The porcelain maker

In 1993, middle-aged Clara Vogel is in search of her father's identity. Her late mother spoke little about her experience in wartime Germany, but she left one clue--a rare porcelain Viking. During the 1920s, Bettina Vogel is a freewheeling artist in Weimar Germany when she meets Jewish Austrian student Max Ehrlich. They build a life together as the Nazis rise to power. When the couple's attempt to escape Germany is thwarted, they are separated. Max is transported to Dachau and is eventually sent to the Allach porcelain factory on the concentration camp's grounds to work as a sculptor, while Bettina is quickly married to a Nazi officer who encourages her interest in art as long as she keeps her work socially acceptable. But Bettina's rebellious spirit lives on, and an unexpected reunion with Max leads to a shocking collaboration that alters their future. With its well-researched plot, engaging characters, and dramatic twists, Freethy's debut works as both a World War II love story and a testament to the ability of art to speak truth to power. Readers of Heather Morris and Kelly Rimmer will be captivated.

Freethy's underwhelming debut revolves around a protracted love affair between a German Christian artist and an Austrian Jewish architect. Bettina Vogel, the artist, meets Max Ehrlich for the first time in 1925 Weimar Germany, where they share a mutual interest in the Bauhaus school of art. As the Nazis rise to power in the 1930s, Bettina's brother joins the party and opposes her romance with Max. Eventually, Max disguises his Jewish identity and gets work as a porcelain sculptor. In a parallel narrative set in 1993, Bettina's daughter, Clara, pursues the mystery of her paternity. She finds a clue in a 1941 photo from the Dachau death camp depicting her mother and two other men, one of whom is identified as Max. Clara's visit to her dying mother early on discloses that Bettina survived WWII, leaving only Max's fate, and his role in Clara's life, as open questions. Freethy keeps up momentum with the story of Clara's search, but her depiction of the concentration camps feels cursory, and torrid prose doesn't help ("Their mouths met and merged, melting in a white heat that should, by rights, have burned them both entirely"). This doesn't stand out amid the glut of WWII fiction. (Nov.)