This novel is by famed and prolific author Elie Wiesel, most famous for his book "Night," about his experiences during the Holocaust. Many readers don't realize, however, that he penned numerous other books, many of which are works of fiction, but which could be also considered semi-autobiographies, which explore deep philosophical subjects as profound as the meaning of life itself. Wiesel himself stated, on more than one occasion, that writing was his therapy, which he used to alleviate his PTSD while enlightening generations of readers about the Holocaust, and, as here, its aftermath.
This book was clearly written with that purpose in mind. Indeed, it seems to touch on many subjects with which Wiesel himself struggled in coming to some manner of acceptance, if not resolution, after his horrific experiences as a boy in Auschwitz. This short novel opens with the story of Raphael, a quiet boy, ten years old at the time the Nazis invaded his homeland, who "feared madness but was drawn to madmen." Ostensibly out of some type of charitable intent, the boy spends his Shabbat afternoons at an insane asylum (!), where he meets an almost Messianic madman who regales him with somewhat perplexing worldly wisdom during his visits, whose words haunt Raphael throughout his troubled life.
During an episode of delirium after contracting typhus, Raphael sees an apparition of the madman in a dream (or delusion). The madman tell him that he offered himself to spare not only the boy, but the whole town, from the epidemic. True to his word, the madman was later accused of attacking a German soldier shortly after the invasion, and was hanged for the crime, in fulfillment of the prophesy he made to Raphael. Or did the event occur at all? It's sometimes difficult to determine what is real and what is imagined in the mind of Raphael, who, after emigrating to the United States after the war, journeys to a mountain clinic to wrestle with his own demons. Now a professor, Raphael enters the sanatorium in New York on the pretext of conducting research for scholarly publication, specifically, as he tells the director, the relationship between madness and prophesy (recalling the experience with the old inmate madman from his youth), and madness as portrayed in the Bible as opposed to that of the modern day. In reality, he is searching for a mysterious caller who may be able to shed light on the whereabouts of a man Raphael credits with saving his life and taking him to Paris, a man he considers to be his savior, and that of many other Jewish children caught up in similar circumstances.
It's a somewhat difficult read, particularly in the non-sequential presentation of events. However, most of the vignettes speak loudly enough for themselves. One of the most profound for me is the account of Raphael's brother Yoel, who left behind his parents and fiancee, and who makes it to the Soviet Union after the war, but is then arrested and interrogated on suspicion of being a spy, despite the fact that his fiancee was a devout communist, even during the war, when such affiliations, if discovered, would mean almost certain death. Yoel is arrested and interrogated endlessly, held in prison with other suspects without charges, until he comes up with a strategy, perhaps one divinely inspired: he recalls a recitation of a passage from the book of the prophet Jeremiah, and becomes Jeremiah to his interrogators, who think him mad... perhaps correctly. Thus, madness has touched Raphael and his family, who seem to be representations of the madness of the war, even in survival.
Another prominent theme, as in the writings of many Holocaust survivors, is that of futility and fate. Another patient at the clinic, Boris, plays the role of the scapegoat, here in the physical sense, as the one of two kid goats spared from sacrifice and released into the wilderness, taking with it all sins and impurities in order to expunge the entire community. Although there are some parallels in other ancient societies, including those of Greece, the practice is first attested in the ancient Hebrew context in Leviticus (16:21-22), which states that Aaron, the high priest, must impart unto the surviving goat all transgressions of the people of Israel, by laying his hands upon its head and confessing the people's sins, then designating someone to release it into the wilderness. Was that what the old madman was to Raphael, and the whole community?
Many also continued to struggle for a lifetime with survivor's guilt, another prominent theme in the book, and in Holocaust literature in general, in fact. Back to the allegory of the scapegoat: why was one kid chosen to die and the other to live? By what chance was the one chosen over the other? "Why this goat rather than another?" muses Boris, another patient. "Only God has the answer. Why me and not my neighbor?" This is a question which continued to haunt many survivors for the remainder of their lives, especially if they were the only surviving members of their entire families, which, tragically, was not uncommon.
Even after the war, the suffering did not end for many of the "survivors." I can't remember the exact source, but one of the most poignant statements regarding life after trauma I've ever read by someone who didn't consider themself such went something to the effect: "we didn't survive... we just didn't die." Thus, many who did not die, as it were, during the war, did not consider themselves survivors. Some simply lived longer than others, but were ultimately victims of the war the same as those who died in the camps. One prominent example is another renowned author, Primo Levi, who reportedly (though it is somewhat disputed) committed suicide at age 67. Like Yoel's experiences of continued suffering at the hands of a new enemy, discovering that, in fact, no family members survived, ushered many to a belated end. It is with these weighty themes Wiesel so eloquently struggles, and communicates to future generations, albeit in a different fashion with his fictional writings than his own personal experiences, which are equally impactful.
-To refuse to live is an act of treason not only toward the living, but also toward the dead.
This book was clearly written with that purpose in mind. Indeed, it seems to touch on many subjects with which Wiesel himself struggled in coming to some manner of acceptance, if not resolution, after his horrific experiences as a boy in Auschwitz. This short novel opens with the story of Raphael, a quiet boy, ten years old at the time the Nazis invaded his homeland, who "feared madness but was drawn to madmen." Ostensibly out of some type of charitable intent, the boy spends his Shabbat afternoons at an insane asylum (!), where he meets an almost Messianic madman who regales him with somewhat perplexing worldly wisdom during his visits, whose words haunt Raphael throughout his troubled life.
During an episode of delirium after contracting typhus, Raphael sees an apparition of the madman in a dream (or delusion). The madman tell him that he offered himself to spare not only the boy, but the whole town, from the epidemic. True to his word, the madman was later accused of attacking a German soldier shortly after the invasion, and was hanged for the crime, in fulfillment of the prophesy he made to Raphael. Or did the event occur at all? It's sometimes difficult to determine what is real and what is imagined in the mind of Raphael, who, after emigrating to the United States after the war, journeys to a mountain clinic to wrestle with his own demons. Now a professor, Raphael enters the sanatorium in New York on the pretext of conducting research for scholarly publication, specifically, as he tells the director, the relationship between madness and prophesy (recalling the experience with the old inmate madman from his youth), and madness as portrayed in the Bible as opposed to that of the modern day. In reality, he is searching for a mysterious caller who may be able to shed light on the whereabouts of a man Raphael credits with saving his life and taking him to Paris, a man he considers to be his savior, and that of many other Jewish children caught up in similar circumstances.
It's a somewhat difficult read, particularly in the non-sequential presentation of events. However, most of the vignettes speak loudly enough for themselves. One of the most profound for me is the account of Raphael's brother Yoel, who left behind his parents and fiancee, and who makes it to the Soviet Union after the war, but is then arrested and interrogated on suspicion of being a spy, despite the fact that his fiancee was a devout communist, even during the war, when such affiliations, if discovered, would mean almost certain death. Yoel is arrested and interrogated endlessly, held in prison with other suspects without charges, until he comes up with a strategy, perhaps one divinely inspired: he recalls a recitation of a passage from the book of the prophet Jeremiah, and becomes Jeremiah to his interrogators, who think him mad... perhaps correctly. Thus, madness has touched Raphael and his family, who seem to be representations of the madness of the war, even in survival.
Another prominent theme, as in the writings of many Holocaust survivors, is that of futility and fate. Another patient at the clinic, Boris, plays the role of the scapegoat, here in the physical sense, as the one of two kid goats spared from sacrifice and released into the wilderness, taking with it all sins and impurities in order to expunge the entire community. Although there are some parallels in other ancient societies, including those of Greece, the practice is first attested in the ancient Hebrew context in Leviticus (16:21-22), which states that Aaron, the high priest, must impart unto the surviving goat all transgressions of the people of Israel, by laying his hands upon its head and confessing the people's sins, then designating someone to release it into the wilderness. Was that what the old madman was to Raphael, and the whole community?
Many also continued to struggle for a lifetime with survivor's guilt, another prominent theme in the book, and in Holocaust literature in general, in fact. Back to the allegory of the scapegoat: why was one kid chosen to die and the other to live? By what chance was the one chosen over the other? "Why this goat rather than another?" muses Boris, another patient. "Only God has the answer. Why me and not my neighbor?" This is a question which continued to haunt many survivors for the remainder of their lives, especially if they were the only surviving members of their entire families, which, tragically, was not uncommon.
Even after the war, the suffering did not end for many of the "survivors." I can't remember the exact source, but one of the most poignant statements regarding life after trauma I've ever read by someone who didn't consider themself such went something to the effect: "we didn't survive... we just didn't die." Thus, many who did not die, as it were, during the war, did not consider themselves survivors. Some simply lived longer than others, but were ultimately victims of the war the same as those who died in the camps. One prominent example is another renowned author, Primo Levi, who reportedly (though it is somewhat disputed) committed suicide at age 67. Like Yoel's experiences of continued suffering at the hands of a new enemy, discovering that, in fact, no family members survived, ushered many to a belated end. It is with these weighty themes Wiesel so eloquently struggles, and communicates to future generations, albeit in a different fashion with his fictional writings than his own personal experiences, which are equally impactful.
-To refuse to live is an act of treason not only toward the living, but also toward the dead.
