I like the adage less is more.
It’s usually true.
Translated from the original German novel Im Westen nichts Neues, Erich Maria Remarque distills all the horror of war into just 200 pages, in his remarkable All Quiet on the Western Front.
Paul Bäumer and his school classmates are barely 18 when they’re persuaded by their teacher to fight for Germany in The Great War.
With spare language, Remarque describes the daily routine of their life on the front in France.
In some vivid set-pieces, Paul and his infantry company endure abject extremes: stabbing to death a French soldier who falls into Bäumer’s shell-hole; an infestation of rats in the trenches; a deadly gas attack; daily bombardments from heavy artillery.
But there are also some occasions of black humour that epitomise the camaraderie of those who know death is almost certain: a feast of piglets and white sauce, even as Bäumer and best friend Kat are under heavy fire; swimming naked across a river to meet some French girls, for fear of getting their uniforms wet; stealing a goose to wring its neck and provide a memorable meal for the starving soldiers.
But one by one, his friends fall. To shrapnel wounds. To direct mortar hits. To dysentery. Bleeding to death in no-mans’ land. Drowning in mud. Shot for desertion.
But amongst all this futllity and desolation, he still recognises the insatiable human lust for life.
I am very calm. Let the months come, and the years, they’ll take nothing more from me, they can take nothing more from me. I am so alone and devoid of of any hope that I can confront them without fear. Life, which carried me through these years, is still there in my hands and in my eyes. Whether or not I have mastered it, I do not know. But as long as life is there it will make its own way, whether my conscious self likes it or not.
All this in 200 pages.
Weniger ist mehr.