By Rabbi Rachel Esserman

Those seeking to change the world often view their surroundings through political and social ideals. For some, politics becomes the driving force behind their actions, whether it’s the willingness to risk one’s life to obtain a political end or political ideas coloring the way one views those of a different religion or race. That was certainly true of the real life Leon Trotsky, a portion of whose life is featured in the novel “Bronshtein in the Bronx” by Robert Littell (Soho Press). The need to understand how politics influenced her mother’s actions during World War II France is what led French historian Cecile Desprairies to write her autobiographical novel “The Propagandist” (New Vessel Press). Each work offers insights into the role politics played in these families’ lifes.
“Bronshtein in the Bronx” opens in 1917 when Trotsky arrives in the United States with his lover and their two children, hoping to spark a revolution. His documents featured his birth name, Lev Davidovich Bronshtein, although officials are familiar with his radical politics. Trotsky escaped Russia after being exiled to Siberia and has no idea that the Russian Revolution will soon take place. Offering a first-person narrative, readers learn Trotsky is willing to sacrifice the lives of millions if that is the only way to make his revolution a success. However, his welcoming socialist hosts note that the United States is not exactly ripe for revolution: unions and political activists in the U.S. are looking to improve conditions, not overthrow the economic and social system.
Once in New York, Trotsky must find a way to make a living and is not above taking advantage of his star-status in the socialist movement. He also enters a relationship with Fedora, a woman journalist, who challenges his ideas. Unlike Trotsky, she believes a dictatorship of the proletariat will end as do most revolutions: in a dictatorship that will oppress that same proletariat. The two also differ in what they are willing to do for the revolution: she is willing to die for it, but she is not willing to kill for it. That serves as the biggest wedge between the two.
In his 10 months in the U.S., Trotsky must deal with the FBI and, on his way back to Russia, with British intelligence, which wants to prevent him from returning to his native land, since a revolution in Russia might affect the outcome of World War I. Trotsky, however, doesn’t particularly care who wins the war since he sees it as a distraction: workers should not be fighting workers of another country, but rather banding together to overthrow their capitalist oppressors.
Trotsky is a far more engaging narrator than one might expect from a diehard revolutionary. That is partly because his conscious – which sounds like his Jewish childhood nemesis – offers a running commentary that challenges Trotsky’s thoughts and actions. In fact, his conscious feels so real to him, Trotsky often puzzles those around him by speaking to it out loud.
Even though it’s filled with serious ideas, “Bronshtein in the Bronx” is easy and breezy reading. Knowing what will happen in the U.S. and Russia actually adds an additional dimension to the work. It’s possible to be engaged by this Trotsky, while, at the same time, disliking his ideas. The author concludes the novel with information about the real-life people featured. Knowing this revolutionary’s real-life end is particularly poignant.
While both novels in this review feature first-person narrators, Coline, the narrator of “The Propagandist” serves as a fictionalized version of the author. The story reads more like a memoir than a novel: Coline’s narration is so convincing that it’s difficult to tell which parts are factual and which are invented by the author.
Although the main action takes place in the 1960s, it’s the 1940s that formed this Christian family’s feelings about their Jewish neighbors. Coline’s mother, Lucie, her grandmother and her aunts gathered in the narrator’s apartment when she was a child. It is their influence that matters: the men were barely tolerated. When the women talk of Jews, it is only to note that they are all rich; they also quickly brush aside anything that had happened in World War II.
When Coline learns more about her mother’s life, she discovers that her mother was married before: her first husband was a firm believer in, and supporter of, the Nazi cause. Lucie seemed not only accepting of that belief, but a confirmed Nazi herself. In fact, after the war is over, Lucie still believes in the cause and hopes that fascism will be revived. Even as she aged, her first husband remained the love of her life: her second husband was of little importance.
This creates an interesting dilemma for Coline since, from her family, she learns that Nazi collaborators were heroes, while also becoming aware that the rest of France condemns their actions. It’s difficult to read about those who never gave up their allegiance to the Nazi cause, especially when they managed to hide or whitewash what they did, and live well after the war. Readers may debate which collaborators were worse: those who truly believed in the cause or those who only cared about profit. 
“The Propagandist” does not include a section separating fact from fiction. It would be interesting to hear Desprairies discuss her novel from her viewpoint as a historian of the Nazi occupation of France. However, her novel feels as if its insights are gleaned from her personal experience. 
Both of these novels look back in time, which means they offer a different perspective than those living through that time period might. Readers know far more than Trotsky does about the actual Russian Revolution. That can make it difficult not to judge his mistakes, while also realizing how disappointed he would be with the final result. Coline, on the other hand, must overcome the propaganda she learned as a child, something that is difficult because most children accept their relatives’ beliefs, at least until they discover the truth behind them. Readers might be interested in a sequel to discover when Coline comes to understand the horrors of the regime her mother supported and what that means for her own future actions and ideals. However, it feels unlikely the author will offer such a work. In both of these novels, fact and fiction struggle to offer an accurate portrait of the past: each author does manage to find a good, if very different, type of balance.