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Grete Weil's novels The Bride Price and Last Trolley from Beethovenstraat have displayed her perception of the Holocaust to be unique, highly personal, and unusually forgiving. In this collection of novellas, the author looks beyond the loss of her loved ones and the effect of the era on her fellow Germans to its effects on those who had fled to apparent safety in California, New York, Paris, or even the forests of the Yucatan. Weil compares them to the survivors of the atom-bomb blast who have lived beyond the initial explosion, considered the worst to be over, only to later sicken and die. The fugitives' lives are damaged, even destroyed physically, by the aftershocks of the Holocaust - by their inability to shed the culture of the country from which they have fled, their intense memories of happier times, and the constant intrusion of the ghosts of both victims and persecutors into their attempts to lead new, possibly even happy, lives. The author's acerbic but rigorously honest gaze spares no one, not even herself, as she once again challenges readers to take stock and ask how they can prevent the addition of further victims of man's blood lust to what eventually will be called history.… (meer)
Informatie afkomstig uit de Engelse Algemene Kennis.Bewerk om naar jouw taal over te brengen.
They who have gotten away with their lives are doomed. Grete Weil Last Trolley from Beethovenstraat
Opdracht
Eerste woorden
Informatie afkomstig uit de Engelse Algemene Kennis.Bewerk om naar jouw taal over te brengen.
It was a while ago, back when Picasso's Guernica was still hanging in the Museum of Modern Art in New York.
Citaten
Informatie afkomstig uit de Engelse Algemene Kennis.Bewerk om naar jouw taal over te brengen.
But it wasn't just sympathy that drove me on through the fog, it was curiosity, too. What were they doing with their freedom? Why hadn't they ever written about the dead? Why hadn't they ever asked what we knew about the fates of poor Eugene and poor Elizabeth? And about those of poor Otto, poor Leopold, and poor Selma? Why did they kill the dead with their silence?
It doesn't matter that there are no more Gestapo agents asking for your papers, that no trucks are driving through the streets to pick up people, that no one's ringing your doorbell at night, that the concentration camps have been turned into museums where cut-off hair and knocked-out teeth are displayed in glass cases, that there's no reason to run away any more. The running away goes on. Running away from a name. When Auschwitz wasn't yet a name, you didn't need to run away, but who's going to take the name back? Who's going to tell me it's not my hair, my teeth. They meant it for me.
Of course she was lying - I was changed; I would have been deeply disturbed if I'd still looked like I did at the time when I didn't know that name.
When does the past start? When the blade falls or when the corpse is consigned to a mass grave or burned in a crematorium or when the murderer dies or when there's no one left alive who loved the murdered one or when the first tourists buy their tickets to the execution site?
Primo Levi descried the camps in such minute detail that the unimaginable became a concrete picture. For forty years I'd imagined that I was a witness and that made it possible for me to live the way I have. I'm no longer a witness. I didn't know a thing. Whenever I read Primo Levi, I realize that I couldn't really visualize a concentration camp. My imagination wasn't sick enough.
Laatste woorden
Informatie afkomstig uit de Engelse Algemene Kennis.Bewerk om naar jouw taal over te brengen.
Grete Weil's novels The Bride Price and Last Trolley from Beethovenstraat have displayed her perception of the Holocaust to be unique, highly personal, and unusually forgiving. In this collection of novellas, the author looks beyond the loss of her loved ones and the effect of the era on her fellow Germans to its effects on those who had fled to apparent safety in California, New York, Paris, or even the forests of the Yucatan. Weil compares them to the survivors of the atom-bomb blast who have lived beyond the initial explosion, considered the worst to be over, only to later sicken and die. The fugitives' lives are damaged, even destroyed physically, by the aftershocks of the Holocaust - by their inability to shed the culture of the country from which they have fled, their intense memories of happier times, and the constant intrusion of the ghosts of both victims and persecutors into their attempts to lead new, possibly even happy, lives. The author's acerbic but rigorously honest gaze spares no one, not even herself, as she once again challenges readers to take stock and ask how they can prevent the addition of further victims of man's blood lust to what eventually will be called history.
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