Günter Grass, Reconsidered.
... I myself spent time in France and Germany after the war—the simply told scene when the young soldier (Grass) carrying home beet syrup and a kilo of butter is reunited with his family. Danzig has been destroyed; they are living a minimal existence in another town. This is the Germany forever in my mind's eye: a place where many people are starving, the cities were rubble and there was constant cold and people milled about in railroad stations trying to find their lost relatives
(...) But perhaps a writer, particularly one with his outsized ambitions and talents, should not have so heeded the siren song of wanting to be all things to all people—great writer, the moral and political conscience of a country, and globe-trotting intellectual. The danger with so many mixed ambitions is that the center, like the evasive center of an onion, does not always hold.