These letters are rich fodder, both as firsthand accounts of World War II, and a glimpse into the mind of a writer finding his voice. Above all, though, these are love letters, many of them so rapturous that were it possible to distill these pages into liquid form, it might be prescribed as an elixir for malaise ... Would the manic creativity on display in these letters have thrummed its way into print had his love life taken a different turn? We are speculators here, peering into someone else’s marriage. Even as literary biography, voyeurism is voyeurism all the same ... Love, Kurt is story of two people deeply in love, living through what Kurt speculates are 'the most horrible times in history.' It may be an exercise in delusion, but it’s still heartening to bask in these letters, to take this feral love for what it was at a freeze-frame moment in time.
