Here, meine Damen und Herren, is Christopher Isherwood’s brilliant farewell to a city which was not only buildings, streets, and people, but was also a state of mind which will never come around again.
In linked short stories, he says goodbye to Sally Bowles, to Fraulein Schroeder, to pranksters, perverts, political manipulators; to the very, very guilty and to the dwindling band of innocents. It is goodbye to a Berlin wild, wicked, breathtaking, decadent beyond belief and already — in the years between the wars — welcoming death in through the door, though more with a wink than a whimper.
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“I think’, said Sally, ‘it must be marvellous to be a novelist. You’re frightfully dreamy and unpractical and unbusinesslike, and people imagine they can fairly swindle you as much as they want – and then you sit down and write a book about them which fairly shows them what swine they all are, and it’s the most terrific success and you make pots of money.”– Christopher Isherwood, Goodbye to Berlin
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