Suzanne Loebl’s remarkable Plunder and Survival is simultaneously memoir and history, one that is insightful and accessible – and above all fascinating. Loebl mingles her memories of hearing Hitler on the radio in her parents’ home in her native Germany with the biographies of some of the leading Jewish art collectors of her time and also of the art experts who aided the Nazis in looting some one million pieces of art, reselling some works, allocating others (particularly old master paintings) for a museum the Nazis hoped to build, and acquiring some of the works themselves for future dealings. Loebl has a special knack for explaining history or describing artwork in a matter-of-fact tone that is erudite without being intimidating. And throughout, we are always aware how close the history Loebl is describing remains to her own biography. It reminded me of the way blue-blood journalist Anderson Cooper interweaves his historical account of the Vanderbilts and the Astors with personal boyhood memories of their worlds.
With poignant understatement Loebl describes her family fleeing her native Germany via Frankfurt airport, just as the city was preparing for a visit by Hitler, without bidding her grandfather goodbye. “We would never see him again.” She writes simply. In their new refuge in Belgium, her family is almost immediately arrested as foreign enemies when Germany invades Belgium. She, her sister and mother are let go. Not so her father whom they learn had been incarcerated in the French Pyrenees. “We would not see him again for six years,” she notes dryly.
But mostly, Loebl’s book paints a broad canvas that depicts not only the world of Jewish art collectors, and of progressive German museums that were divested of their “degenerative” works but also of the systematic way the Nazis went about discrediting modern art, the lengths they went to stop “degenerative” artists from painting (i.e. by forbidding them to buy paint and canvases or from selling their work).
She also describes in detail the experts the Nazis hired to deal with the art they looted, and gives a vivid sense of the extent of the plunder. She explains, step-by-step, the measures the Nazis took against art they did not approve. Herein lies a cautionary tale. In 1937, they removed “degenerative art” from German museums and dismissed museum directors who favored adding “degenerative art” to the museum’s collection before turning up the heat on the artists themselves.
Loebl sprinkles her account with fascinating little but illuminating facts. One that will remain with me for a long time is that it was it was none other than one of these “degenerates” – Bauhaus architect Franz Erlich who was forced while interred to design the gates of Birkenau – the death camp within Auschwitz concentration camp.
Ultimately, the book lives up as much to the “survival” aspect of its title as to the “plunder” aspect, with lively accounts of the daring steps collectors and art lovers took to save works they cared deeply about. Loebl also details the efforts, particularly successful in more recent decades, to return works to their rightful owners or their descendants. The bottom line is that a large portion of the most precious paintings, once the owners have been compensated, have ended up in museums, mostly in the United States, where the public can view them.

(FYI -- I posted this review on my Goodreads account)

This book is more than an art historical novel. It is almost a memoir; a great rediscovery of the many lives of Jewish and so-called "degenerate," unwanted art looted during Nazi Germany. What stands out is the story's focus on the collectors, artists, and fascist art dealers, who, through vivid and engaging storytelling, seem to come to life once more.

The book is deeply tied to the author's own life - from fleeing Germany, to surviving the Holocaust, and migrating to the United States, while always staying connected with her deep interest in and devotion to art - making it a read with a lot of resonance that lingers for a long time after reading. This engaging approach to telling her story and the story of many others inextricably ties the history of the 20th century to the present day, illuminating the ongoing struggles that Holocaust survivors, artists, and art collectors still face in the present day.

Although this book was a very engaging read, I feel a little ambivalent about the many characters and historical figures introduced in this book. And sometimes, it was a little overwhelming. I wish that the connection between the many people would have been elaborated on, as I believe it would have increased the plot's clarity. If that was the case, I would have loved to read even more about the individual stories. However, diving into the story of rather minor historical figures seemed a little superficial and disturbing to the general reading flow.

Other than that, I can recommend this compellign introduction to anyone interested in Jewish-German art history, as well as German Expressionism, Impressionism, and Bauhaus, as well as the stories of various other artworks deemed "degenerate."
The book covers the broad history and art history of the 20th century across Germany, Europe, and the United States, while raising essential questions about justice that remained unsolved even today.