*Editorial Book Review*
A Week in Berlin
By Angelina Der Arakelian-Dennington
By Angelina Der Arakelian-Dennington
Publisher: Independently Published
Page Length: 274
Genre: Historical Fantasy Fiction / Time Travel
If you could travel back in time, not just to relive your past but to rewrite it, what would you sacrifice? Would you risk everything you’ve built to save the ones you lost?
In 1915, Badrig Serdzovian fled the Armenian Genocide believing he could rebuild his life in France. But some histories don’t stay buried. Haunted by what he witnessed, Badrig begins to experience vivid memories that feel more like portals than dreams. Then the impossible happens: he gains the ability to relive the past—and change it. Drawn to Berlin, a city unraveling at the seams of time itself, Badrig uncovers a hidden world of guardians sworn to preserve the fragile timeline known as the Sequence. If he dares to rewrite history, he might save those he lost, or destroy the timeline altogether. But what is the price of rewriting pain?
A Week in Berlin is a genre-bending, time travel romance novel inspired by real events. It explores mental time travel, trauma, identity, love across time and the deeply human desire to heal the past.
When the Ottoman Empire turned against the Armenian people, life for Badrig Serdzovian changed in an instant. As he marched toward what seemed to be his certain death, uncertainty gripped him; he had no idea if his family was alive or dead, and the weight of their absence bore heavily upon his heart.
Just as he braced himself for the final moments of his life, a carriage suddenly appeared on the horizon, kicking up dust as it approached. A soldier disembarked hurriedly, scanning the faces of the gathered prisoners before calling out his name. To his sheer astonishment, Badrig was chosen—not as a prisoner to be executed, but for an unknown purpose.
However, this stroke of fate was bittersweet. While he had been spared from immediate death, the reality was grim. His family was dead. And life, as he knew it, was over.
“A Week in Berlin” by Angelina Der Arakelian-Dennington is a profoundly moving story that captures the emotional landscape of the era.
The first half of this book is a harrowing account of the Armenian Genocide of 1915, shedding light on one of history’s darkest chapters. In the second half of the book, the narrative transitions from historical fiction into the realm of historical fantasy. This shift introduces the intriguing concept of the "Time Vortex", a perplexing parallel world that challenges the reader’s understanding of time and reality. Within this fantastical setting, Badrig grapples with the complexities of altered timelines and alternate histories. Although there are moments of time travel sprinkled throughout the story, these instances are brief and serve primarily to enhance the overarching themes of fate and consequence, offering glimpses into how small changes can ripple through time. This unique blend of genres invites readers to explore the boundaries of possibility and reflect on the intricate relationship between history and imagination.
Badrig’s experiences, observations, and vivid imagination shape him into a profoundly sympathetic character for readers. He endures not only physical pain but also deep emotional turmoil stemming from the loss of his loved ones. The trauma of surviving when others—particularly his cherished family and closest friends—are murdered weighs heavily on him, creating an overwhelming sense of survivor’s guilt that follows him relentlessly. This emotional burden manifests in haunting flashbacks, where he is often transported back to the heart-wrenching moments of loss and despair. In these vivid recollections, he relives the sounds of anguish, the faces of those he couldn’t save, and the unbearable weight of grief that envelops him, making it exceedingly difficult for him to find any semblance of peace. Each memory serves as a stark reminder of the life he once had, intensifying his feelings of isolation, sorrow, and the haunting question of why he was spared. As he navigates these complex emotional landscapes, readers are drawn to his struggles, feeling a deep, visceral connection to his arduous journey of survival amidst the shadows of grief. However, in the second half of the novel, a notable shift occurs in Badrig’s character. Transitioning from a state of distrust and reluctance to form connections, he unexpectedly develops an almost naïve, blind trust in the Vanpelliers, a family he knows nothing about. This change is particularly jarring given his previously cautious nature; until this point, Badrig had always relied on his instincts and maintained a protective wall around his heart. His abrupt acceptance of the new life the Vanpelliers promise—despite the mystery that shrouds it—leaves readers slightly perplexed. This blind leap of faith is a stark contrast to the sharp, guarded mindset he had cultivated after his traumatic experiences.
Additionally, his relationship with Josephine adds another layer of complexity. At times, he feels a profound connection to her that seems to flicker to life, while at other moments, he grapples with feelings of annoyance and indifference. This emotional oscillation creates dissonance in their dynamic, leaving the reader questioning their true feelings and the authenticity of their bond. Ultimately, Badrig’s journey is both inspiring and disconcerting, marked by an ongoing struggle to reconcile his past with the uncertain future that lies ahead. His evolving relationships highlight the complexities of human connection amid trauma, making his story all the more poignant and intricate.
Josephine is a character who embodies manipulation and cruelty in every interaction. Her reaction to Badrig’s flashbacks reveals a distinct sense of annoyance and disdain, showcasing her lack of empathy and understanding. Her narcissistic nature ensures that every situation revolves around her, making it difficult for those around her to exist outside her selfish narrative. As the story unfolds, readers are gradually exposed to the darker layers of Josephine’s hidden persona, leading to a palpable sense of loathing that grows into something more intense—hatred. Her actions and motivations are thoroughly unlikable, and she consistently puts her own needs, or “Time”, above the well-being of Badrig, making it nearly impossible to find any redeeming qualities in her character.
The attention to historical detail, particularly in the first half of this book, deserves the highest praise. Arakelian-Dennington has clearly dedicated countless hours to researching this era, capturing its nuances with remarkable authenticity. In the author’s notes at the beginning of the novel, she shares her deep connection to her great-grandfather, who survived the harrowing experiences of the Armenian Genocide. This personal history profoundly influences her portrayal of the events and emotions of the period. The vivid descriptions of the sights, sounds, and smells transport the reader, immersing them in the atmosphere of the era and allowing them to experience the weight of history viscerally.
The fantasy element of the novel is less developed than the historical fiction presented at the beginning, which is rich in detail and context. As a result, the transition into the fantastical aspects can feel abrupt and confusing. The world-building in the fantasy sections lacks the same depth, making it challenging for readers to fully grasp the themes and connections within the storyline.
This book is profoundly distressing to read, particularly due to the vivid horrors that Badrig is forced to relive through his powerful flashbacks. At the outset, the author masterfully illustrates the complexities of post-traumatic stress disorder, capturing Badrig’s internal struggles with a raw authenticity that resonates deeply. The emotional turmoil he experiences—marked by multimodal hallucinations and a constant sense of hyper-vigilance—paints a poignant picture of mental health challenges. However, as the narrative progresses and the fantasy elements begin to take centre stage, the lines between reality and illusion blur. The introduction of a fantastical “time” element, where Badrig navigates through alternate realities or timelines, leaves the reader questioning the nature of his experiences. Is his mental anguish a result of an acute psychological episode stemming from his traumatic past, or is it influenced by the otherworldly aspects woven throughout the story? This ambiguity adds a layer of complexity and intrigue, propelling the reader into an exploration of the mind’s fragility amidst the backdrop of fantastical occurrences.
If you have a passion for reading historical fantasies that are firmly rooted in the historical past, then “A Week in Berlin” by Angelina Der Arakelian-Dennington is certainly worthy of your attention.
Review by Mary Anne Yarde
The Coffee Pot Book Club
Angelina Der Arakelian-Dennington
Angelina Der Arakelian-Dennington is the debut author of A Week in Berlin - a sweeping Historical Fiction novel with a Science Fiction twist. Inspired by her Armenian heritage and the enduring echoes of generational memory, she blends rich historical detail with speculative elements to explore love, loss, and the unseen threads that bind past and present.
An award-winning screenwriter, she brings a cinematic eye and narrative rhythm to her storytelling. Passionate about stories that linger long after the last page, she writes with lyrical prose and emotional depth, inviting readers into worlds where history and imagination meet. She also dabbles in poetry.
When not immersed in writing, she is either reading in a quiet corner or contemplating life, existence, and the forces of fate that shape our journey.
Connect with Angelina Der Arakelian-Dennington:






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