Every German mother was mad about it. The Merry Widow by Franz Lehar. First performed in Vienna in 1905; as sugary as one of the city’s cream cakes. Lehar had died in 1948, and Hitler had sent a personal representative to his funeral.
‘What else is there to say?’ Jaegar took a chocolate ..and popped it into his mouth. ‘Who are these from? A secret admirer?’
… March bit into a chocolate and winced at the sickly taste of liquid cherry. ‘Consider: you have no friends, yet someone sends you an expensive box of chocolates from Switzerland. With no message. A box that plays the Führer’s favourite tune. Who would do that?… A poisoner, perhaps?’
‘Oh Christ!’ Jaeger spat the contents of his mouth into his hand.
from Fatherland by Robert Harris (1992). Highly Recommended
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