Douglas Smith’s The City Without Jews: Life and Death in Nazi Vienna is, in many ways, two books at once. On one level, it is an expansive history of Vienna between the Anschluss and the end of World War II, drawing on an extraordinary breadth of archival material to chronicle the systematic destruction of one of Europe’s most vibrant Jewish communities. On another level, it is the very personal story of one woman whose letters and diaries reveal what it was like to be Jew in Vienna during that time period.
That woman is Mignon Langnas, a Jewish nurse whose story seems almost impossible: she lived openly during the Nazi occupation. While her husband, Leon, and their children escaped early in the Nazi occupation, Mignon stayed behind to care for her aging parents, convinced that they, too, might eventually be allowed to emigrate. Leon, who, interestingly, was aboard the infamous M.S. St. Louis—the ship full of Jewish refugees who were denied entry into Cuba and America — before making it to England. Both parents were separated from their children, who were sent to America.
Left behind, Mignon continued living and working in Vienna throughout the entire seven-year Nazi occupation, first in a nursing home and later at a Jewish children’s hospital. Even after Vienna was declared Judenrein in 1942, Mignon remained — navigating a city where every Jewish life hung in the balance. Smith traces her increasingly desperate yet futile attempts to secure visas for herself and her parents while chronicling the daily reality of watching neighbors disappear, institutions collapse, and hope erode.
The letters Mignon left behind reveal a woman whose resilience wavered. She cycled through crushing despair, exhaustion, and moments of remarkable tenderness toward the children under her care. As early as 1942, she wrote of feeling “despondent.” She told a friend “I have been so worn down by hoping that it has become torture. I no longer want to live on eternal ‘miracles’ + ‘mercies’! I want peace at last … I want to have my children again + a home + a feeling of security … Will I experience it?” Little did she know then that she would have three more years to endure before peace would be possible. As the war dragged on, survival seemed increasingly unlikely: both the children’s hospital where she worked and her apartment suffered direct hits during Allied bombing raids as the Nazis ramped up deportations of the city’s remaining Jews.
Smith’s reconstruction of Nazi Vienna is sweeping in scope and rich in detail, situating Mignon’s experience within the wider story of a community under siege. As a result, readers encounter her life in conversation with the many political, social, and historical forces that shaped it. Through Mignon, Smith offers a window into a unique existence.