Milo Todd’s debut novel, The Lilac People, is a sweeping historical drama centered on a German trans man named Bertie and his girlfriend, Sofie, who spend World War II hiding on the farm of a friend’s grandparents, having assumed their identities after their deaths. Bertie and Sofie hover in a strangely bucolic world, a landscape which has “the look of a foreboding fairy tale, sticking out oddly dark against the sunshine and rolling hills, the chirping birds and greenery.” Todd’s informative tale is told with exquisite prose and plotting, reminiscent of beloved World War II stories like All the Light We Cannot See.
Soon after the war ends, the pair find Karl, a trans man, collapsed in their field, having escaped from Dachau. He informs them that as Allied forces liberate the camps they are sending gay and trans people to jail. Meanwhile, Bertie and Sofie receive notice that they must report to a work camp, where their secrets will likely be revealed. Instead, the couple take Karl in and begin planning a dangerous escape to America, their only hope for survival.
The book’s title refers to “Das Lila Lied” (“The Lilac Song”), a queer anthem written to honor trans rights advocate Dr. Magnus Hirschfeld in 1920. The first part of the novel alternates between Bertie and Sofie’s life in 1945 and scenes of 1932 Berlin, where Bertie worked with Dr. Hirschfeld at his renowned Institute for Sexual Science. The multiple timelines occasionally feel less fluid than a strictly chronological account might have; however, they succeed in sharply contrasting Bertie and Sofie’s lives before, during and after the war.
“I’m sorry this is the only lilac life you’ve ever known,” Sofie tells Karl. “There used to be so much joy.” Before the war, Bertie and others like him lived a more hopeful life, able to have gender-affirming surgeries and to educate the world about their experiences. A joyous 1932 New Year’s Eve celebration “would be the last time Bertie felt they ever made noise. It would be silence ever after. In death, in hiding, in mourning, in denial of their selves and their community.”
Throughout, Todd expertly mixes the historical with the dramatic, for instance, laying out the rapid, chilling disintegration of trans rights under Hitler, while offering a harrowing account of Bertie’s narrow escape from the Nazi attack on the Institute in 1933. Numerous scenes vividly portray the postwar distrust and suspicion between German people and Allied forces, as well as how the United States allowed and even welcomed Nazis and their collaborators.
Two quibbles: Todd perpetuates the myth that officials at Ellis Island changed the names of incoming immigrants. And while he includes a bulleted list of historical notes, a more fleshed-out author’s note describing his approach would have been enlightening. These points pale, however, in comparison to the impassioned storytelling and characterizations Todd offers.
The Lilac People notes that when Hitler came to power, “one of the first orders of business” was to revoke identification cards for trans people. Sound familiar? Sadly, Todd’s soulful and suspenseful account of trans people fighting for survival amid political persecution could hardly be timelier.
