In the time of the Depression; in the years when men lost their jobs and their hope, then united to fight for their rights; in an age when standing up for something good soon devolved into falling for falsehood; and in a time when foreign civilians traveled to soldiers’ graves in Spain; and when Hitler’s Germany is rising… in that time, a young man of strong ideals saw the first crack in the promise; a young woman of strong devotion saw the first face of honest pain; and a band of American brothers was formed around truth that became a lie.

Hermanos by William Herrick reads like Band of Brothers crossed with For Whom the Bell Tolls. Gritty authentic detail combines with a tragic story arc that keeps rebounding and falling again. Romantic threads are almost torn apart in the mess of blood and explosions. And political views, slowly told and deeply thought out, are achingly relevant.

“What we do is above morality,” says one character as another airs his doubts, determining reluctantly that “justice… would have to wait. First there was hunger to resolve.” Who might say these same lines now?

Hermanos is a slow, deep novel. It draws the reader into wounded lives, invites understanding of wounding crimes, and provides a haunting lens through which to view the present day. Behind it all, it’s also the story of a single life, a single romance, and what people will do for love, for duty, and for their chosen cause. “The music goes round and round and it comes out here.”

Giving haunting meaning to the phrase, a “unity of opposites,” Hermanos reveals the lie of cheap lives, and the descent of man, but shines with a distant gleam, even to the end. Putting down this book is hard, even when the tale is done. So is looking into the mirror of history. A truly absorbing, long, slow, haunting novel, Hermanos holds that mirror up to us all.

Disclosure: I was given a copy and I offer my honest review. ( )