The Book Thief

Photo taken by Ms. C

I had been in a Holocaust-themed reading rut for a long time prior to reading this book.  In fact, I could not bring myself to read any literature on the Holocaust since visiting Auschwitz-Birkenau in April 2011. 

I could research the topic into oblivion during my Undergraduate days...  I would read book after book on the Holocaust prior to my visit to Auschwitz-Birkenau.  Yet, I was now unable to read the first few pages of any Holocaust-themed item.

What was the weirdest part about my reading rut?  The actual visit at Auschwitz-Birkenau did not move me to the degree that I thought it would.  I found that the camp, while an emotional site, had become too tourist-centered.  It was only after I returned to Canadian soil that the thought of reading about events at the place I had just visited began to disturb me.  I could vividly picture what the authors were writing.  I could recall walking in that very camp the authors were so expertly describing, and if I closed my eyes, their stories and my experiences at the same site began to overlap.

Consequently, I have a large pile of Holocaust literature sitting on my bookshelf waiting to be read. 

I told my friend, K, my reading problems... and the fact that I really wanted to read a book called The Book Thief.  After a little persuasion, I left a store with The Book Thief placed neatly into my shopping bag.  I began reading the book later on that afternoon.

Coventry

Helen Humphreys' Conventry: A Novel portrays the National Socialist bombing of Coventry, England, during World War II.  This book is a fast read which permits its readers to become lost in English culture and values during the turbulent 1940s. 

The People's Chef

The creation of soup kitchens.
The improvement of the British military's diet.
The formation of the first non-pub restaurant in London.

Alexis Soyer, a French national residing in Britain, did it all.

Ruth Brandon's The People's Chef: The Culinary Revolutions of Alexis Soyer examines the modernization of the restaurant industry and European views on nutrition during the nineteenth century. Brandon tests century-old recipes in a contemporary kitchen while providing a non-fiction account of the Irish Famine, the Great Exhibition of 1851, and the Crimean War.

Inside Hitler's Bunker

Many know Adolf Hitler spent the last few months of his life in a bunker underneath the Reich Chancellery in Berlin. But, little is known of what happened in the bunker, now sealed off to the public. Joachim Fest, a Berliner himself, examines life in the Fuhrerbunker during late April and early May 1945.

Fest's Inside Hitler's Bunker: The Last Days of the Third Reich provides an account of the defeat of National Socialist Germany in May 1945. Hitler's actions, decisions, and behaviour from within his bunker are examined in Fest's work. Fest also chronicles German citizens' and military officials' reactions to the advancing Soviet troops and fall of the Third Reich.

The Dutch in Wartime

A few weeks ago I was given a newspaper-style magazine called The Dutch in Wartime. It is a publication designed to teach the horrors of the Second World War to grandchildren (and great-grandchildren) of North America's Dutch immigrants. I happen to fall into this category of individuals.

I think, as many of us were children growing up in the second half of the twentieth century, we have all heard stories of World War II. Our connections to the war vary depending on our family members' ages, locations, and personal attributes.

There are plenty of academic texts on the history of the Second World War for countries such as the United States, England, Italy, and Germany (and many others, too!).

In the past I have had a hard time finding academic sources on Holland during the World War. Sadly, there is very little published material on Holland during the war. In fact, there is such a lack of information on Holland and World War II that I have been unable to write university papers on the subject.

The Dutch in Wartime attempts to fill this void of information on Holland from 1939 to 1945. The publication provides readers with countless first-hand accounts of the war. Tales of heroism, hiding, starvation, death, and liberation are told within its pages.

This publication is powerful. It reminds readers that everyone, civilian and solider, are effected by war. That one cannot 'get over' a war - it stays with you forever. It is intentional hatred. It is intentional acts of murder. Victims of war should not be silent, but continue to speak out against past atrocities. As it was so adeptly written, "to remember means to be alert" for the future (page 4).

History and first hand accounts of atrocity are hard to review. I cannot even fathom performing this activity when the stories I read are so close to my own background. Instead, I have created a short summary of information on World War II and Holland.


The Facts:

- Holland intended to be neutral during the Second World War - they were ill-equipped for war when the Germans invaded on May 10, 1940. Holland's warfare equipment was created prior to 1914 (page 4).

- Children were often confused by the war. At school children were told Germans were their enemies, while at home some were forced to socialize with the foreign soldiers. German soldiers, who missed their own children, would play with Dutch children and told stories of their families in Germany (page 5).

- The German Army believed Hollanders shared Germanic blood. This meant that German rule was much more lenient until the Dutch protested against German activities (page 6).

- Dutch schoolchildren had to sign a Declaration of Loyalty to Germany. Those who did not sign the declaration were to be sent to German prisons or labour camps. Many Dutch children were forced into hiding due to this (page 6).

- On November 11, 1944 Germans raided houses in Rotterdam for all men and boys fit for work. 50,000 out of the 70,000 eligible males in the city were deported to Germany for work. This occurrence is known as the Rotterdam Roundup (page 11).

- Before the war Holland contained 140,000 Jewish individuals - 102, 000 had perished come 1945 (page 16).

- The winter of 1944-1945 is know as the Hunger Winter. It was the coldest winter on record. The Dutch had literally no food, electricity, or water due to German occupation. People resorted to creating fires in small coffee tins and eating tulip bulbs, rats, and other animals found on the street. Many individuals collapsed on the streets due to starvation and the cold. Unfortunately, Hollanders had so little energy that those who perished on the streets were left on the side of the road (page 20).

- Holland was liberated in May 1945 by Canadian and British forces (page 4).

- Holland celebrates Remembrance Day on May 4th and Liberation Day (full of celebrations and parties) on May 5th (page 3).



Bibliographical Reference:
Bijvoet, Tom. De Krant: The Dutch in Wartime, Special English Language Edition of Maandblad De Krant to Mark the 65th Anniversary of Liberation. Pentiction, British Columbia: Mokeham Publishing, Inc., 2010.

Call Me Mom

This memoir contains two stories for me - how I acquired the work and the tale it tells.

On December 4, 2010 I attended a St. Nicholas Day celebration in the City. St. Nicholas Day is the traditional day of celebration and gift-giving during Holland's Christmas season. It was at this celebration that I met Fred van Zuiden.

van Zuiden, the author of Call Me Mom: A Dutch Boy's WWII Survival Story, had scheduled a book signing during the City's annual celebration. When I met him I was intrigued by his past experience as a Jewish boy in Holland during World War II. He seemed like a charming man, he signed the book, and we said goodbye. van Zuiden is the first (of now many) Jewish Holocaust survivors that I have had the pleasure of meeting. I know I will never forget him and his story.

The signed copy.

The Zookeeper's Wife

I finished reading Daine Ackerman's The Zookeeper's Wife a few days ago. My final review is rather delayed (you can read my first one here). I just can't seem to place my feelings for the book down onto paper... or cyberspace.

Ackerman tells the real-life tale of a couple in Warsaw during the Second World War. The couple, zookeepers by trade, find their zoo bombed and animals gone within the initial outbreak of war. Throughout the rest of the war, the couple assist Jewish individuals escaping the Warsaw Ghetto and Nazi brutality by hiding them in the zoo's animal cages. Ackerman furthers her tale with accounts of Nazi eugenics and the manipulation of human, animal, and plant genetics. National Socialists wished to remove non-Aryan people, non-Aryan animals, and non-Aryan plants from the world.

I've heard both good and bad comments about Ackerman's work. Some fellow bloggers have suggested that the book went into too much detail about little obscurities. Others have thoroughly enjoyed the work. So, where do I stand?

Hands

I'm currently reading Diane Ackerman's The Zookeeper's Wife. I'm roughly halfway done the book and I absolutely love the characters and unfolding events. It is a harrowing tale of the Holocaust and has led me to ponder aspects of everyday life.

Ackerman's descriptions are exquisite. One of her sentences has jumped from her pages and into my psyche, and I just have to share:

"hands cradle newborns, build cities, plant vegetables, caress loved ones, teach our eyes the shape of things - how round swells, how sand grits - bridge lonely hearts, connect us to the world, map the difference between self and other, fasten onto beauty, pledge loyalty, cajole food from grain, and so much more."

(p 177-178)

Reading the above passage instantly reminded me of my teenage years. I remember my mother telling my sixteen/seventeen (something-teen?) self to look at my hands if I ever felt sad or disheartened by one of life's roadblocks.

Why hands?

Hands are responsible for so much of what we are, what we have, and what we remember. There may be low points in life and hands can be extremely damaging forces. But, at the end of the day, we know there is good in this world as our hands have expressed love for others, care for those in need, striven for excellence in one of our own creations, and in essence, helped create the patchwork quilt of characteristics, accomplishments, and memories that compose us as unique human beings.


P.S. This is my one hundredth post. Thank you to all who have commented, followed, and sent me words of encouragement for this little blog.

The Very Thought of You

In January, E brought me one of his previously read books. He claimed that I would love it... lets just say he knows me pretty well.

The Very Thought of You, Rosie Alison's novel based on 1940s England, depicts a complicated marriage and kaleidoscope of love relationships during the Second World War.

Alison does an excellent job portraying the tale of a London girl sent to a Yorkshire boarding school for protection during the Blitz. Alison expertly describes relationships between lovers who must hide their infatuation in order to remain safe during the war-torn climate. And, most hauntingly of all, she illustrates the lifelong psychological effects of one's first love and the tragedies of war. The Very Thought of You is suspenseful, engaging, and an addictive read, yet also dark and depressing.

E was right - I do love this book. I found little excuses to bring out The Very Thought of You throughout the day (i.e. public transit rides, waiting in offices). It's not that I don't normally read during such moments... it is just that I didn't quite expect to be reading anything with E here for four weeks.

I most definitely recommend this book to those searching for a dramatic love story set in the chaotic time period of the Blitz. I don't think you will be disappointed.

Dawn

Yesterday, I finished reading Elie Wiesel's Dawn. It is a short read of just over one hundred pages, and yet I found myself continually putting the book down and walking away. One hundred pages in three days, I almost feel ashamed... almost.

Dawn chronicles the lasting effects of the Holocaust for Elisha, an eighteen year old Jewish freedom fighter assigned to kill an English officer in Palestine. Wiesel's work is highly metaphorical, strongly emotional, and exceedingly dark. Wiesel parallels the actions of freedom fighters in Palestine to the atrocities of the Holocaust. Notions of murder and humanity echo within both Wiesel's portrayals of Elisha's exposure to Nazi atrocities in a concentration camp and the actions of Jewish freedom fighters in 1940s Palestine.

Irresistible

Love is a complicated affair.

Susan Mallery's Irresistible tells the tale of two young Americans who pledge to avoid relationships and love at all costs.

Walker and Elissa, partners in an "it's-not-a-relationship" relationship, are brought together through a series of unfortunate events. Car troubles, bad dreams, overexcited children, unpleasant grandmothers, and restaurant jobs lead to increasing contact between the couple. Elissa's past as a struggling single mother and Walker's ex-Marine lifestyle create commitment issues for the pair, respectively. As this is a romance novel you know what eventually 'should' happen. However, I'll save you from any spoilers.

Sarah's Key

Is it important to remember the past?

Should horrific details of our heritage be submerged under notions of an idealized present?

Is it better to know or to forget the most gruesome aspects of our lives... and of our nation?


Tatiana De Rosnay, author of Sarah's Key, grapples with these questions. Sarah's Key describes the story of a young French Jewish girl who was detained by French Forces during the Vel' d' Hiv' roundup but was able to escape before being sent to Auschwitz in the 1940s.

De Rosnay creates a story centered on the notion of remembrance. After her escape, Sarah must live the rest of her life with memories of the roundup, losing her Mother and Father upon arrival at the detainment camp, and the dire consequences of hiding her brother in a small cupboard before leaving for Vel' d' Hiv'. De Rosnay expertly links Sarah's story to that of Julia Jarmond, a contemporary journalist researching the French state during the Holocaust.

De Rosnay shows how countries try to avoid discussions on negative aspects of their past, how a family's history impacts one's self-identity, and that repercussions of the Holocaust remain prominent even in the 21st century.

I found it very interesting to see a portrayal of France's remembrance of the Holocaust due to my own extensive university studies on Germany's remembrance of World War II from the 1940s to present day. Books alike to Sarah's Key attest to the symbolic importance of having historical events formally recognized by the state. Recognition creates the ability to further establish one's own identity and to once again feel a sense of community.

Hitler's Private Library

Just how much does a book reflect on its reader?

Timothy W. Ryback addresses this question in Hitler's Private Library: The Books that Shaped his Life. Ryback explores Hitler's private library composed of works on military history, the occult, religion, and artistic endeavors such as architecture, theatre, and painting in an attempt to understand his personal character. Hitler signed and dated the inside covers of the (literally) thousands of books he collected and read. Events in Hitler's personal life and the lead-up, commencement, and close of World War II have become associated to these dated works.

Ryback proposes that "we collect books in the belief that we are preserving them when in fact it is the books that preserve their collector" (xv). What people read may reflect their character traits. For example, Ryback argues that Hitler's strong anti-Semitic beliefs are reflected in his library's copious collection of material on racial hierarchy. If books reflect our interests, Hitler was a man highly concerned with German nationalism, war, racism, supernatural events, and the formation of cities... it sounds oddly correct.

While this does make sense, I find it close minded. People read for many reasons: enjoyment, knowledge, in order to understand a different perspective from one's own, or to better understand the opposition, just to name a few. I personally would hate to think the books I have collected throughout the years reflect my thought processes and personality... if that was the case I'd be a living oxymoron.

And it leads me to think... if we're not supposed to judge a book by its cover... how can we judge a person by a book?

Hitler's Private Library was interesting... but dense and dry. I would recommend it for readers who are deeply interested in history, thought processes, and are accustomed to academic style writing.



Interesting tidbits:
- Hitler adored Henry Ford and not because he was a car enthusiast... Apparently Ford was a major anti-Semite who helped inspire Hitler's own tendencies.
- Hitler had a passionate desire to be a writer. However, his writing style, spelling, and grammar were so atrocious that many contemporaries could not read through all of Mein Kampf. If they had read the book many more people would have been aware of Hitler's intentions.
- Hitler's books are currently scattered throughout the world. They can be located in Germany's archives, American libraries, personal collections, and on the black market.

And, oddly enough...

- Ryback found an inch long, thick, and slightly curly hair between the pages of one of Hitler's books... he claims this is one of the few remaining hairs from Hitler's mustache... nice stretch, Ryback.

The Cellist of Sarajevo

For the past few months I have been contemplating reading Steven Galloway's The Cellist of Sarajevo. I've seen it at the local bookstore many times, read its cover, leafed through its pages, and always placed it back on the shelf. A book about the killing of civilians in Sarajevo, Bosnia? It just sounded too depressing.

I finally decided the time had come to give Galloway's work a shot when I noticed his book sitting on the shelf during my latest trip to the library. When I saw The Cellist of Sarajevo advertised as local literature - Galloway is from a suburb in BC's Lower Mainland - I felt I had no choice but to sit down with a coffee and digest his work word for word.

Galloway portrays a country's experience of civil war and its tendency to dehumanize society. He describes intense scenes of disparity and hope: a country's army murders its civilians who merely wish to cross a street; a cellist plays Albinoni Adiago in G minor on war torn streets for 22 consecutive days as an act of deviance; counter-snipers attempt to protect the people of Sarajevo; and parents struggle to stay optimistic in the presence of their children.

Galloway's work is graphic. A poignant part of the novel is his suggestion that the news media's presentation of war stories distances the audience from events. It was a powerful scene and I feel the only way to give it justice is to provide an excerpt.


After witnessing the bombing of one of Sarajevo's streets, Dragan, one of the main characters, disagrees with a journalist videotaping the resulting carnage:

"It's not that he doesn't want the world to know what's happening here. He does, or at least he agrees with the argument that the world is more likely to intervene if it is forced to see the suffering of innocents. It's just that the scene the cameraman will capture is in no way representative of what's happened here today. It's the aftermath.
A dead body won't both anyone. It will be a curiosity, but unless some viewer knew the hatless man it will mean nothing. There's nothing in a dead body that suggests what it was like to be alive. No one will know if the man had unusually large feet, what his friends used to tease him about when he was a child. No on will know about the scar on his back he got from falling out of a tree, or that his favourite food was chocolate cake...
None of this will ever be said again, has simply vanished from existence. But these are the things that make a death something to be mourned. It's not just a disappearance of flesh. This, in and of itself, is easily shrugged off. When the body of the hatless man is shown on the evening news to people all over the world, they will do exactly that. They may remark on the horror, but they will, most likely, think nothing of it at all." (Galloway, The Cellist of Sarajevo, p 232-233).

It's sad, but this happens all too frequently. Most of us in the western world are accustomed to having dinner with the news playing in the background providing footage of death and war. It is almost as if the dehumanization that occurs in countries at war continues into the living rooms of those in the west.

Galloway also proposes that music is a powerful form of communication and allows people to express joy or recall happier times. When homes in Sarajevo do have power, people turn on radios and CD players in the hopes of listening to music and dancing. And the cellist, the grounding focal point of the novel, is able to stop civilians, soldiers, and counter-snipers from action by merely playing his music. Galloway seems to suggest that music is a way to regain humanity, emotional connections, and sensitivity to others in a world ravaged by war.

It wasn't until I was finished reading The Cellist of Sarajevo that I looked up Albinoni Adiago in G minor (you can listen to it here). This is the song that was performed by the fictional cellist... and the song that was played by Vedran Smailovic, the actual cellist who played in Sarajevo's streets in 1992. The novel is premised on Smailovic, who defied imminent danger in order to honour those who were murdered during the Siege of Sarajevo. Needless to say it is a beautiful and moving piece of music.

The Girl in the Red Coat

My friend K and I enjoy exploring metro-Vancouver on the days we have off from work or studies. Typically we venture to the mall, spend countless hours wandering and shopping, and go home with at least a few books. Recently, we've decided to broaden our trips to include Robson Street and visits to the Vancouver Public Library.

Let's start off by saying it's a beautiful library... see?


It's Vancouver's version of a little Coliseum. Upon entering the library you receive shopping baskets and a map. It's that big. Last Thursday I spent most of my afternoon on the 6th floor - the History section - and left with eight books.



Roma Ligocka's The Girl in the Red Coat was the last book I decided to take home... and ironically the first book to be discussed on C.T.R. But where to start?

I'm assuming most people have seen Schindler's List. I remember the first time I saw it in a social studies class during high school. The film is dominated in black and white imagery besides one scene - that of a little girl in a red coat. In case you don't remember or by chance have not viewed the film (in which case I highly recommend you do!) here's a youtube clip.

Ligocka, a Jewish survivor of the Holocaust, claims to be the real little girl in this clip. Born in 1938, the first years of Ligocka's life were spent in a Polish ghetto with her father, mother, and grandmother. Ligocka claims to have worn a bright red coat alike to the little girl portrayed in Spielberg's film. Ligocka recognizes her family members in the film - the murder of a Jewish engineer and a couple who marry in Auschwitz reflect her own family's experiences in the Holocaust.

It seems like Ligocka is attempting to give Spielberg's work authority throughout her memoir. Yet, the similarities between Ligocka's and Spielberg's stories suggest to me that the Holocaust is overall generalized to far too great an extent.

Generalizing the Holocaust does create the opportunity for audiences to relate to the portrayed characters and begin to comprehend, at least a little bit, the horrors endured during the Second World War. Generalizing the Holocaust also permits people to have a cursory glance at the subject, to say that they will remember, but to fail to acknowledge the full diversity of the experience. Generalizations suggest that there is one story and thus removes and suppresses individual voices.

At times Ligocka's story is hard to believe. How can she remember events from her early childhood? How can she recall conversations, sequences of events? I suppose this can be attributed to artistic license. Yet doing so removes the sense of authenticity from her work.

Perhaps my strong dislike for generalizations is why I enjoy memoirs. Once I overlook Ligocka's views on Schindler's List her work becomes much more enjoyable. Ligocka's personal experiences are vivid. Her writing oozes descriptions that come to life - bed bugs, her first taste of chocolate, meeting her father after his escape from Auschwitz, ill-kept Jewish cemeteries, and Jewish schoolchildren who cry and flinch in class after the close of war.

Ligocka's work is most profound due to her focus on the psychological impact of the Holocaust. Ligocka adeptly illustrates the survivors' desire to not speak of their experiences, to turn away from the past, and (for some) to resort to addictions to alcohol and prescription medication.

Overall, The Girl in the Red Coat tells the story of Poland under fascist and communist dictatorship, portrays a woman's lifelong struggle to find self-acceptance, and urges one to not turn their back on the past. It is an interesting memoir but not one of the most enthralling pieces of Holocaust literature.