418 Besprechungen / Reviews sions that have been drawn by various literary critics on Remarque’s work. Interesting parallels are often drawn with classical genres, providing new insights into Remarque’s work. Some scholars have been critical of Remarque for his allegedly apolitical position. But Murdoch argues that the novels themselves are political because of the time in which they are set. The characters’ reflections on topics such as war, pacifism, personal and collective responsibility, and the definition of murder, create a political dimension, and Remarque’s reluctance to take an unambiguous position on the left or right creates dynamic space for the reader to make political judgments. That aside, the writing of Zeit zu leben und Zeit zu sterben, a novel published in 1954 dealing specifically with the issue of personal and collective responsibility during the Nazi period, «was a bold act by any postwar German writer» (185). This monograph will be of interest not only to a growing body of Remarque scholars, but also to readers interested in the identity and representation of a Germany of the twentieth century. Heriot Watt University Maggie Sargeant E VA G EULEN : The End of Art: Readings in a Rumor after Hegel. Tr. James McFarland. Stanford UP, 2006. 216 pp. $ 50 (cloth); $ 19.95 (paper) Ever since Hegel, philosophers on both sides of the «analytic»/ «continental» divide have been heralding the end of art. Though this pronouncement has been articulated in a variety of ways, the basic idea is typically a variation on the following theme: in modernity art no longer has a home. The historical role, or project, of art has been fulfilled, or lost, or rendered impossible. No one denies that we have «artists» and «art» in the modern world. Rather, the picture we get from this tradition is that in the modern world the artist is like an oblivious worker who continues to show up for work even though his employment has been terminated and his factory shut down. Eva Geulen’s thesis is striking: rather than demonstrating the end of art, theorizing about the end of art has become a sustaining feature of modern art itself. Discourse about the end of art thus resuscitates art in the very act of declaring it dead; modern art thrives precisely because it is rumored to be dead. Her strategy in this book is one of offering, as Gilbert Ryle might put it, a survey of the «logical geography» of this discourse: exploring how various philosophers have propagated this founding myth of art’s death, and how they have, unawares or not, been complicit in the establishment of the very tradition - modern art - they seek to prove impossible. Geulen’s writing is equal parts fascinating and frustrating. Her thesis is important, perhaps even true. But however inspired, her defense of it is very unsatisfying. She develops her thesis through a reading of the major figures in this tradition: Hegel, Nietzsche, Heidegger, Benjamin, and Adorno (a discussion of Arthur Danto, whose work seems so well suited for her study, is sadly missing). She is dealing with philosophers, obviously, and the problem is that she has a tendency to ignore what Besprechungen / Reviews 419 philosophers think of themselves as offering: arguments. Consider the opening passage of her book: «Although untimely, the end of art is always up to the moment, for it can be near or can already have taken place. Whatever else the end of art may be, it is presumption. That the end of art, whether fortunately or regrettably, has so far turned out to be a matter of speech and rhetoric, a topos in any case, and perhaps even a discourse, does not mitigate its urgency in any given scenario» (1). It is hard to believe that these philosophers offered only «speech and rhetoric,» but it is convenient for Geulen to claim so much. Reducing these philosophers’ work to a string of rhetorical gestures has the effect establishing her thesis without her actually having to support it. If all they do is spin around in the void of «discourse,» of course they will seem to be offering nothing more than a way of merely talking about art. This is not to say that Guelen is wrong (I doubt she is). It is to say that she has virtually no interest in giving philosophical support to her thesis. This is a rather severe sin for a work that deals with philosophical material. Readers who see the philosophers she discusses as more than just rhetoricians will be unhappy. Indeed, they will think Geulen refuses to listen to these philosophers, jumping to find «ambiguity» in their «discourse» before even pausing to reason out what it is they are actually trying to say. Geulen’s driving thesis is, evidently, a philosophical one, but since her treatment of it is purely rhetorical, one finishes the book quite confused about what to do with it. Despite these criticisms, Geulen’s book is worth reading. Although her approach can be philosophically frustrating, her prose (in John McFarland’s translation) is often lively and exciting, and no one will be bored. The work is self-indulgent but spirited and bold, and even when the author is at her most frustrating, she still manages to provoke thought in very fruitful ways. Again, her thesis is startling. It is the sort of claim that generates discussion, and one imagines that it will be the focus of much debate. Even if Geulen does not defend her thesis in the way one would wish, her book is of considerable value for bringing it to our attention. University of Louisville John Gibson B ERND W ITTE (E D .): Benjamin und das Exil. Würzburg: Königshausen & Neumann, 2006. 132 pp. € 22,80. This slim volume brings the topics of Walter Benjamin and exile into conjunction by collecting papers selected from two conferences, one directly concerned with Benjamin and exile, the other a symposium on the broader topic of German literature in exile. The result is more suggestive than tightly integrated, which is the nature of many a conference volume, but in this case the tensions are instructive. Benjamin’s experience of exile is not a new topic. His suicide at the Spanish border with France as a political refugee in 1940 has become the emblematic fact about his life, and Benjamin’s existence in exile has been the subject of earlier studies, including Chryssoula Kambas’s Walter Benjamin im Exil (1983) and Geret Luhr’s collection of letters and documents «was noch begraben lag»: Zu Walter Benjamins Exil (2000). The essays in Witte’s collection prompt us to think about Benjamin and exile in two