Bernhard Lichtenberg: Roman Catholic Priest and Martyr of the Nazi Regime. By Brenda L. Gaydosh. Lanham: Lexington Books, 2017. xxiii + 259 pp. $105.00 cloth; $99.50 e-book.

Abstract

Lambarene to the front of its own self-imagination. He was the saint in the jungle that reminded Europe of its greater heritages despite its recent demons. He was the savior which mediated a sense of deplorable guilt. No one was more famous in Europe nor throughout the world from after the war up until the late 1950s. The world was his stage, and dignitaries and world leaders were in awe of him. This image might have set the stage for Schweitzer's inevitable infamy in many circles in the wake of African decolonialization. The world had moved on from Schweitzer and his backward views of colonialism and the African. He had become Europe's scapegoat. The assessment of Schweitzer and Africa and the legacy of his hospital still merit further investigation. Oermann, for his part, ably situates the well-intended vision of Schweitzer's hospital within the sweeping currents of cultural sea change. And, despite its clumsy incongruities, Oermann judges that the ideal of Schweitzer's ethical vision is more relevant today than it was in Schweitzer's days. Schweitzer, in many ways, was a man who was both locked in his Enlightenment heritage and out of the pressing realities of his moment. He also stood isolated before an inscrutable Africa. Despite the publication of his Nachlaß, he also remains locked out from our current moment. Oermann's biography, however, ably and admirably wrests the greatness and tragedy of Schweitzer in attractive and tidy compass. His influence remains in some academic realms and in the several hospitals and fellowships devoted to his ethical vision. And now, thanks to Oermann, the life behind that vision may make a bit more sense, too.