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THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WALL brings Simon Schwartz’s German graphic novel DRÜBEN! to English-speaking audiences for the first time. As someone who majored in German, studied abroad in Berlin, and generally has an unusual obsession with the history of the Berlin Wall, I admit to being quite predisposed to liking it. For a reader who made less quixotic educational choices, there are parts of the graphic novel that might seem unusual or simply not register. There are small, culturally unique formalities --- like the ritual serving of coffee and cake --- and perhaps certain turns of phrase that seem awkward in translation. These quibbles, however, are minor, and this a graphic novel that should appeal to just about anybody interested in family history or the history of Berlin and Germany.

"This is a fine story with an appeal that transcends its specific personal and historical context."

Schwartz’s graphic novel takes the form of a memoir, though it’s really the story of his parents and their troubled attempts to leave East Germany. An idealistic veneer slowly begins to peel away, revealing horrors of the East German state that are truly difficult to imagine. While never overtly violent, aspects of his parents’ ordeal are wrought with deep psychological discomfort. In a relatively short amount of space, Schwartz captures the full spectrum of his parents’ emotions toward a State that inspires and ultimately turns on them. His paternal grandparents stand in as an uncomfortable representation of the State, shunning his own parents categorically when they declare their intention to leave. A lone meeting after reunification is stiff, strange, and icy. Though reunited, their family remains broken in a way that seems beyond mending. The confusion and pain surrounding this relationship propels THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WALL to greatness.

Schwartz makes deft use of the visual constraints of panels to create literal walls, frequently contrasting the familiar, gemütlich atmosphere among his parents and maternal grandparents with the bland, dark, unfeeling facade of a communist-style apartment building --- an apt and painful representation of the forbidding paternal grandparents. Schwartz’s art works seamlessly with the themes and emotions of divided Berlin and divided families. Though I see the occasional cultural reference that might elude non-Germanophiles, helpful footnotes are provided for certain terms and historical persons, which go a long way toward bridging the gap. This is a fine story with an appeal that transcends its specific personal and historical context, and in both word and image recreates a deep feeling of division familiar, I think, to all.

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