"Not long before the sirens signaled the end, Alex Steiner -- the man with the immovable, wooden face -- coaxed the kids from his wife's legs. He was able to reach out and grapple for his son's free hand. Kurt, still stoic and full of stare, took it up and tightened his grip gently on the hand of his sister. Soon, everyone in the cellar was holding the hand of another, and the group of Germans stood in a lumpy circle. The cold hands melted into the warm ones, and in some cases, the feeling of another human pulse was transported. It came through the layers of pale, stiffened skin. Some of them closed their eyes, waiting for their final demise, or hoping for a sign that the raid was finally over.
Did they deserve any better, these people?
How many had actively persecuted others, high on the scent of Hitler's gaze, repeating his sentences, his paragraphs, his opus? Was Rosa Hubermann responsible? The hider of a Jew? Or Hans? Did they all deserve to die? The children?
The answer to each of these questions interests me very much, though I cannot allow them to seduce me. I only know that all of those people would have sensed me that night, excluding the youngest of the children. I was the suggestion. I was the advice, my imagined feet walking into the kitchen and down the corridor.
As is often the case with humans, when I read about them in the book thief's words, I pitied them, though not as much as I felt for the ones I scooped up from various camps in that time. The Germans in basements were pitiable, surely, but at least they had a chance. That basement was not a washroom. They were not sent there for a shower. For those people, life was still achievable" (p. 375 - 376.)
"Dear Liesel,
I know you find me pathetic and loathsome (look that word up if you don't know it), but I must tell you that I am not so stupid as to not see your footprints in the library. When I noticed the first book missing, I thought I had simply misplaced it, but then I saw the outlines of some feet on the floor in certain patches of the light.
It made me smile.
I was glad that you took what was rightfully yours. I then made the mistake of thinking that would be the end of it.
When you came back, I should have been angry, but I wasn't. I could hear you the last time, but I decided to leave you alone. You only ever take one book, and it will take a thousand visits till all of them are gone. My only hope is that one day you will knock on the front door and enter the library in a more civilized manner.
Again, I am sorry we could no longer keep your foster mother employed.
Lastly, I hope you find this dictionary and thesaurus useful as you read your stolen books.
Yours sincerely,
Ilsa Hermann"
(p. 369).
"The fallen hours of May 30.
I'm sure Liesel Meminger was fast asleep when more than a thousand bomber planes flew toward a place known as Köln. For me, the result was five hundred people or thereabouts. Fifty thousand others ambled homelessly around the ghostly piles of rubble, trying to work which way was which, and which slabs of broken home belonged to whom.
Five hundred souls.
I carried them in my fingers, like suitcases. Or I'd throw them over my shoulder. It was only the children I carried in my arms.
By the time I was finished, the sky was yellow, like burning newspaper. If I looked closely, I could see the words, reporting headlines commentating on the progress of the war and so forth. How I'd have loved to pull it all down, to screw up the newspaper sky and toss it away. My arms ached and I couldn't afford to burn my fingers. There was still so much work to be done" (p. 336).
(p. 134)
"Jesus, Mary..."
She said it out loud, the words distributed into a room that was full of cold air and books. Books everywhere! Each wall was armed with overcrowded yet immaculate shelving. It was barely possible to see the paintwork. There were all different styles and sizes of lettering on the spines of the black, the red, the every-colored books. It was one of the most beautiful things Liesel Meminger had ever seen.
With wonder, she smiled.
That such a room existed!
Even when she tried to wipe the smile away with her forearm, she realized instantly that it was a pointless exercise. She could feel the eyes of the woman traveling her body, and when she looked at her, they had rested on her face.
There was more silence than she ever though possible. It extended like an elastic, dying to break. The girl broke it.
"Can I?"
The two words stood among acres and acres of vacant, wooden-floored land. The books were miles away.
The woman nodded.
Yes, you can.
Emil and KarlIn 1940, [this book] asked Jewish children living in America to imagine what it would be like to face the challenges of life under Nazi occupation, on the eve of a war that had just begun and whose terrible course was then unforeseeable. The book also asked its readers to think how, even though they were still children, they might understand what was happening far away from America and how they might realize its importance to their own lives -- as Jews, as Americans, and as human beings.Set in Vienna, Austria, Glatshteyn carefully weaves the story of two best friends, one Jewish (Emil) and one not (Karl), as they band together and struggle to survive after the death of their parents in the early days of the Second World War. Perspective varies as Glatsheyn has both Emil and Karl narrate the story. While being merely speculative, Glatshteyn transmitted snippets of actual current events to the readers by way Emil and Karl's experiences – Jews being forced to wash the streets with their bare hands and clandestine Nazi resistance movements. It should be noted that Glatshteyn does not sugarcoat interactions with the Nazi regime which might cause distress for some readers. Thanks to the kindness and generosity of a series of strangers whom come from all walks of life, Emil and Karl find some semblance of safety while they await transport out of the country via a child relief effort – which Glatshteyn is likely referring to the famous Kindertransport which ran out of money in the later part of 1939.
The Complete Maus: A Survivor's TaleTold with chilling realism in an unusual comic-book format, this is more than a tale of surviving the Holocaust. Spiegelman relates the effect of those events on the survivors' later years and upon the lives of the following generation. Each scene opens at the elder Spiegelman's home in Rego Park, N.Y. Art, who was born after the war, is visiting his father, Vladek, to record his experiences in Nazi-occupied Poland. The Nazis, portrayed as cats, gradually introduce increasingly repressive measures, until the Jews, drawn as mice, are systematically hunted and herded toward the Final Solution. Vladek saves himself and his wife by a combination of luck and wits, all the time enduring the torment of hunted outcast. The other theme of this book is Art's troubled adjustment to life as he, too, bears the burden of his parents' experiences. This is a complex book. It relates events which young adults, as the future architects of society, must confront, and their interest is sure to be caught by the skillful graphics and suspenseful unfolding of the story.First serialized in the 1980s, Maus was published in its entirety via two volumes – Maus I: A Survivor's Tale: My Father Bleeds History, in 1986, and Maus II: A Survivor's Tale: And Here My Troubles Began, in 1991. It wasn't until November of 1996 in which The Complete Maus: A Survivor's Tale was published which combined volumes I and II. In volume I of Maus: My Father Bleeds History, Spiegelman tells the story of how his Polish parents first met prior to the advent of the Second World War and their subsequent placement into a Jewish ghetto. The second volume of Maus: And Here My Troubles Began, picks up where the first left off – the Spiegelmans had been betrayed and end up being sent to Auschwitz. With great detail, Spiegelman describes what day-to-day life is like at the camp, the liberation of Auschwitz in 1945, and life afterwards in Sweden as well as America.
He’s a boy called Jew. Gypsy. Stopthief. Runt. Happy. Fast. Filthy son of Abraham.What the synopsis fails to mention is that Milkweed concludes with Misha, an isolated and estranged grandfather living in the United States, who is haunted by memories of the past – a very bittersweet ending better which is suited for older readers. School Library Journal recommended Milkweed for grade 5 and up and Linda Leonard Lamme of Book Links recommended the piece for grade 7 and up. Further, Ginny Gustin of the Sonoma County Library System in Santa Rosa, California added her School Library Journal review, "This historical novel can be appreciated both by readers with previous knowledge of the Holocaust and by those who share Misha's innocence and will discover the horrors of this period in history along with him." Further, it was disappointing to find that Spinelli failed to provide readers with an author's note or include a foreword. Upon conducting cursory research for this project, it was found that the beloved character known as Doctor Korczak is actually based on Janusz Korczak, otherwise known by his pen name of Henryk Goldszmit – a Jewish children's author and pediatrician.
He’s a boy who lives in the streets of Warsaw. He’s a boy who steals food for himself and the other orphans. He’s a boy who believes in bread, and mothers, and angels. He’s a boy who wants to be a Nazi some day, with tall shiny jackboots and a gleaming Eagle hat of his own. Until the day that suddenly makes him change his mind. And when the trains come to empty the Jews from the ghetto of the damned, he’s a boy who realizes it’s safest of all to be nobody.
Felix loves books and is a great storyteller. He keeps a notebook full of his stories. After he sees Nazis outside the orphanage burning Jewish books, he runs away to find his parents and warn them so that they can hide their own books from the Nazis. He is greatly concerned about the hatred that Nazis have for books and cannot understand why they would want to destroy them. As he journeys, however, he begins to realize that the Nazis are out to destroy more than just books.A review published in School Library Journal (Hastings, 2010) gives a succinct synopsis of the book:
...When the orphanage is visited by surly Nazis instead of joyous parents, Felix escapes with only his cherished notebook full of his stories into the nearby countryside, still hoping for a family reunion. He soon discovers a burning home with two slain adults in the yard and their young daughter bruised but still alive. He takes Zelda on his journey, shielding her from the reality of her parents' deaths in much the same way he's been comforting himself, by inventing alternative realities. But, as he encounters the escalating ugliness of the death marches that are emptying his old neighborhood, now a ghetto, Felix becomes increasingly conflicted about the need to imagine a hopeful order and the need to confront brutal reality head-on...Once also has a connection to Spinelli's Milkweed in that Gleitzman was also inspired by Doctor Janusz Korczak. In an author's note, Gleitzman wrote:
Ten years ago I read a book about Janusz Korczak, a Polish Jewish doctor and children’s author who devoted his life to caring for young people. Over many years he helped run an orphanage for two hundred Jewish children. In 1942, when the Nazis murdered these orphans, Janusz Korczak was offered his freedom but chose to die with the children rather than abandon them. Janusz Korczak became my hero. His story sowed a seed in my imagination.However, in Gleitzman's story, the caregiver archetype is portrayed by a man named Barney who runs a pseudo-orphanage in a basement in Nazi-occupied Warsaw.
Yesterday morning, I picked up, from the library, a book which I interloaned: Now by Morris Gleitzman. Now is the sequel to Once and Then -- Holocaust / Historical Fiction. Here's a passage that can be found on page 24 (hardcover) which really struck me:"Felix looks at me, gives me a nod, and carries on chewing.I highly recommend these books and I am really looking forward to the release of the fourth book, After!
He understands.
He knows that lockets on their own can't make everything okay. No jewelry can.
It takes more than that.
Felix knows the secret.
So many sad things happened to him when he was a kid. Losing his best friend and his parents and the strength in his legs. And yet he's the happiest person I know. Because he's really good at doing happy things.
Reading books and making cakes and having hot baths and dancing.
Felix knows that as soon as bad things have happened, they're in the past. Which is the place to leave them.
From now on, I'm going to do what Felix does.
Leave the bad stuff in the past and concentrate on being happy now.
If I can."
"One of the Hitler Youth at the front of the marching column yells something to he others and they all stop.Right next to us.Four of the Hitler Youth step out of the column and stride towards us. Behind them, a Nazi soldier raises his gun like he's keen to join in.My insides are throbbing with fear.I get ready to throw myself at the Hitler Youth if they touch Zelda.But it isn't Zelda that they touch. It's Cyryl. They grab him and slap him and punch him really hard. His mother lets out a shriek, but when they turn to her she smothers her mouth with her hand.
They punch and slap Cyryl some more.
I get furious.
I can't help it. When I see how much those Hitler Youth thugs are enjoying what they're doing, I stop being Wilhelm and take a step toward them.
As soon as I do, I come to my senses. What am I doing? I'm not a fighter. I can't protect Cyryl. All I'm doing is getting my family into trouble.
Genia grabs me and pulls me back.
The jolt makes the Richmal Crompton book fall out of my shirt onto the ground. For a moment I think I'm sprung. I brace myself to be arrested.
But nobody notices.
Mrs. Szynsky is too busy helping Cyryl to his feet. The Hitler Youth thugs are too busy taking their places back in the column.
I crouch down to grab the book.
Just before my hand makes contact with it, the Hitler Youth leader yells something again.
I look up. He's not yelling at me, he's yelling at the column to start marching again, which they do.
But as the column marches off, one of the other Hitler Youth, not one of the thugs, stares at the book on the ground in front of me.
And does an amazing thing.
He grins at me. And with a small movement of his hand, so the other Hitler Youth can't see him, he gives me a thumbs-up.
I blink. Did he really do that?
Is he telling me he's a Richmal Crompton fan too?
I grab the book and stuff it back inside my shirt and stand up and try to look like nothing has happened.
Nobody seems to be looking at me.
Well, hardly anybody.
The Hitler Youth column is halfway across the square now, but the boy who saw the book is still throwing glances back in my direction."
Due to reading mixed reviews of this book, I was somewhat hesitant to pick it up; however, upon reading it, I found myself really getting into the story and wanting to know more about Grandpa Portman’s life. My rating: 4 out of 5 stars. I think the mixed reviews could be due to the fact that this book falls into multiple genres which likely surprises (and possibly disappoints) readers when they expect to be reading a certain type of novel and elements of a science fiction, fantasy, or mystery novel pop-up.
Here's a list of what I've read thus far:  |
| Image courtesy of Papiersammler.com Mein Kampf: Volume I and Volume II |
"I am neither a fan of Herr Hitler or a supporter of the Nazi Party or any associated political ideologies. I selected this topic because I have always been intrigued by World War II and more recently, censorship and intellectual freedom issues during the Third Reich. With that said, this is a sensitive and controversial topic -- as they say on TV: 'viewer discretion is advised.'"Worth noting, I feel that my presentation went quite well; however, what I really want to note (and remember) are the kind words and compliments my fellow classmates expressed after the presentation. It was both heartwarming and gratifying -- I'd like to say 'thank you.'