As I point out in my self-serving information in As He Is Known, I owe my life to Hitler. If there was no Hitler, there would be no me. Millions of others can also say this but, still, it puts existence into some sort of perspective.

My father – from Canada, met my mother – from England, when he went overseas to fight against Hitler. Otherwise, they would have never met.

Thank you, Adolf.

So it goes.

One of the facts about Hitler (which seems little-reported) is that he made most of his money from sales of his book, Mein Kampf. Yes, his wealth came  from his royalties as an author. A guiding light for all of us wordsmiths. Now, it is true that every citizen of Germany was, er, encouraged to buy a copy of the book. But, still.

 Mein Kampf is not great literature. It is a mixture of memoir and fanaticism and politics and hate. Hitler’s genius was on the stump, and not on the page. It was banned in Germany after the war until its copyright timed out, which happened this year. And now, though it has always been available if one wanted to delve into it, the book is printed anew.

It is selling like schnitzels.

It is a best-seller.  The first printing sold out in a week.  It clocks in at 2,000 pages (annotated) and sells for $64US. There are also 15,000 pre-orders.  As an author, I am envious.

There are the usual squabbles about the propriety of having such a book published and sold. Fears it will encourage dissent and anti-Semitism.  To which I say, look around the world to any day since Hitler killed himself.