There are hundreds of books for children about the Holocaust. The Diary of Anne Frank has been mentioned as a book that no child should miss. Recommended books range from the graphic depiction of life and death in Elie Wiesel’s Night (1958) to the brief mention of numbers tattooed on a survivor’s arm in Patricia Lakin’s Never Forget (1994). Some authors try to create a safe(r) distance between the reader and the events of the Holocaust by:
- using a non-realistic framework as fairy tales do,
- focusing on an object or ritual use of an object instead of people,
- writing about those who lived out the war in remote or relatively safe parts of the world.
The picture books I want to discuss this Wednesday use these techniques.
An interesting study could be made of the messages contained in Holocaust literature over the years. Is the Holocaust the story of the innocent victims? Of the heroic struggle to maintain one’s humanity in the death camps? Of the brave partisans who fought back? Of those who managed to escape the death camps only to endure hardships in remote locations? Of the righteous people who unselfishly risked or gave up their own lives to save others? Of the brave leaders who chose to help? Of the governments who chose not to? Of the great heights or depths that ordinary people can reach in the face of extraordinary circumstances? Of the effect of such barbarity on the lives of those not directly involved? Of the ultimate triumph of goodness? Of the absence of justice in the world? Of the banality of evil? Of the death of God?
Is it even possible to find meaning in the events of the Holocaust? Should we? Or is the Holocaust proof that life is at best meaningless? Do we continue to teach our children that the world is fundamentally a good place with kind people? Or is the world chaotic and the only meaning it has is whatever we choose to impose on it?
The meaning, or lack thereof, that we get from the Holocaust depends on how we approach it. Do we believe that undeserved suffering is good or bad? What religious values, if any, do we want to affirm? Is forgiveness always possible? Is it ever possible? Do we do unto others as they have done unto us? Or—the logical inverse— do we not do unto others what we do not want them to do to us? I.e., do we believe in revenge as so many people have in so many places for so many centuries; or do we try to create a world where the Holocaust will never happen again? (Obviously I believe in the latter.)
What meaning is imposed on the Holocaust by the very act of writing about it? When we read a first-person narrative of a survivor, do we take comfort in the many people who survived? When we read about narrow escapes and building successful lives do we remember those who were broken and slaughtered? Do we see the luck of living as a sign of special intelligence or worth? Stories, including history, impose meaning on events. They create order from chaos by picking and choosing facts. If the very act of creating a story is life-affirming, how does reading a story about death affect our understanding of what happened?
The enormity of the destruction of millions of people and the death of centuries-old cultures is mind-numbing. Human beings are not built to comprehend the death of over one million Jewish children, but we can mourn the death of one young girl when she becomes alive to us by reading her diary. The books I want to discuss this week touch, usually very gently, on some of the questions I’ve raised.
TILT – what’s happening
March 22, 2013Greetings.
TILT is now looking at the weekly Torah portion. In theory we look at the portion to be read the following Saturday, although some trips to visit my grandson and family have pushed us back a week. This week, March 20, we looked at two portions to catch up: Vayikra and Tzav—the first two parshiot of Leviticus (1:1 – 8:36).
Over the past few months, we have read most of Exodus and I’ve shared a lot of what I found in The Midrash Says – The Book of Sh’mos by Rabbi Rabbi Weissman. I’ve also used The Five Books of Miriam: A Women’s Commentary on the Torah edited by Ellen Frankel. Everett Fox’s translation of The Five Books of Moses is another favorite source. And I recommend Nahum Sarna’s Exploring Exodus. We try to use as many different translations as there are participants since translation is commentary. I stress that there is no one “right” way to interpret the text, while showing what the rabbinic tradition has read into and pulled out of the text.
For example, last week (March 20), I explained that men gave their jewelry to make the golden calf, but the women refused to do so, not out of vanity but because they did not approve, and so, in recognition of their piety, Rosh Hodesh (the day celebrating the beginning of each Jewish month) became a women’s holiday. Someone pointed out the minor problem that this is not to found in the Biblical text. She was not convinced by the fact that the Hebrew text says the men gave their jewelry, since Hebrew uses the masculine plural to mean both men and women. And I’m sure there are other instances where tradition insists that women are included when the text says men. This led to a discussion of the Oral Torah and the Written Torah and their relative value in Jewish tradition. I love that the text is a living and growing entity.
Tags: Aaron, Bible, Exodus, Midrash, Rosh Hodesh, Shmot, Torah, translation
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