Pavel's Letters by Monika Maron, translated by Brigitte Goldstein

Monika Maron, the renowned German novelist, was born in 1941. Her new book tells of the lives of her grandfather, Pavel, and her mother, Hella: representatives of the two previous generations who suffered the horrors of the 20th century.

Pavel and his wife Josefa were Baptists, though both had converted to that church. Pavel was born a Polish Jew, but converted to Christianity as a young man; Josefa was originally a Catholic. The couple moved to Germany in 1905 and lived a normal life there until the Nazis came to power.

It must have seemed an escape when, in July 1939, the couple were able to take refuge in Poland. They lived with Josefa's relatives until, in 1942, Pavel was denounced and confined in a ghetto. That same year Josefa died of cancer.

Neither his Christianity – which had caused an almost complete break with his family – nor his First World War record could save Pavel. What can be known is told in his letters, discovered only in 1994. They are anguished, but despite the miseries of ghetto life they are full of thoughts for his daughter, Hella, and his grandchild, Monika, back in Germany. The sense of guilt about his wife's death, and his belief that he should have committed suicide to avoid bringing danger to the family, all this is terrible to read. His last letter was dated 8 August 1942. At about that time, the ghetto was dissolved and all the occupants transported to Chelmno extermination camp.

After reading her grandfather's letters, the author travelled to his birthplace to find some trace of the family. In the early 20th century, the small town had a population that was 50 per cent Jewish. None survived the German occupation. Even the Jewish cemetery was destroyed. The present inhabitants were, for the most part, cold and unhelpful.

But Hella and the rest of the family in Berlin survived the war, though Walter, her husband and Monika's father, was in a Russian POW camp. They also escaped the worst of the Soviet occupation. Hella, a lifelong Communist, became secretary to the new deputy mayor of Berlin, Karl Maron. By the time Walter returned in 1949, Hella was involved with Karl and later married him.

Karl became Minster of the Interior in the East German DDR from 1955-63, a job not likely to result in very clean hands. Monika Maron cannot understand why, up until the present day, and given the history of Soviet dictatorship, her mother has remained an incorrigible communist.

Her own first novel, Flugasche, was critical of conditions in the DDR; her later work more so. Despite this, and perhaps because of her government connections, Monika was approached by the Stasi to provide information. She insists she never talked about any friend, although she was granted favours by the state.

The affair blew up in 1995 when Stasi files were opened. Heaven knows, all security services love to have names on their books, but her explanation is a raw and defensive part of an otherwise subtle and moving book.