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«Forgotten or overlooked aspects of war.» Warburger is a necessarily dark yet beautiful book, passionate, containing a full gamut of emotions, and a variety of story treatments: from Peter Kuper’s phallic political rage (he was criticised for depicting the presidential penis too large), to the gorgeous, gentle melancholy of Carol Swain’s desert turned glass, animals trapped innocently beneath its stilled surface, and Knut Larsson’s unspeakably touching Zyclon Boy who during the last hallucinatory moments in the gas chamber imagines he has superpowers and is able to fight to save others and avenge his mother’s death. In an age where pre-emptive war is tolerated and seen as a solution: what have we forgotten, why aren’t the alarm bells ringing?