Survival In Auschwitz
by Primo Levi | Biographies & Memoirs | This book has not been rated.
ISBN: 0684826801 Global Overview for this book
ISBN: 0684826801 Global Overview for this book
Registered by schmetterling of Durham, North Carolina USA on 8/5/2003
This Book is Currently in the Wild!
This Book is Currently in the Wild!
1 journaler for this copy...
Primo Levi's name was invoked during a recent late-night rambling discussion with my roommate. When I first met him (my roommate, not Primo Levi) I was pretty sure he was Jewish because of his looks and his New York-ish accent. He got all offended when I mentioned Hannukah, shocked that I could not see that he was plainly Italian. "Well, there are Italian Jews!" I cried in my defense. "Oh yeah? Name one." In truth, I could name only one: Primo Levi. Then I felt guilty because I could speak his name, but knew nothing of his writing. So I jumped at the chance to pick up this book and further educate myself.
When I bought the book I assumed it was new (its cover is in very good condition) but a flip through the pages indicates that some attentive student has already made notes for me in the margins. Some readers find this distracting but I find it incredibly interesting. Sometimes the notes bring my attention to a phrase or passage that I otherwise might have glossed over, sometimes they provide an alternate point of view to challenge both the author and myself. Thank you, Previous Reader.
When I bought the book I assumed it was new (its cover is in very good condition) but a flip through the pages indicates that some attentive student has already made notes for me in the margins. Some readers find this distracting but I find it incredibly interesting. Sometimes the notes bring my attention to a phrase or passage that I otherwise might have glossed over, sometimes they provide an alternate point of view to challenge both the author and myself. Thank you, Previous Reader.
Page 103: “Today, at this very moment as I sit writing at a table, I myself am not convinced that these things really happened.”
I was at once perplexed and relieved to read this line placed in the middle of Primo Levi’s memoir of Auschwitz. Perplexed: he was there, wasn’t he? He should know that it happened, and I am depending on him to convince me that it really did. Relieved: even he thinks the realities of the concentration camps are so unbelievable that its survivors question them.
I think one reason that I am attracted to writing about the Holocaust is that I have a hard time accepting the fact that they existed. I am a child of the 1980’s; my greatest hardship in life may just be not having cable TV. I cannot begin to comprehend the conditions of life inside a concentration camp, let alone try to mull over the motivations that brought the camps to fruition.
I visited the Holocaust Museum in Washington DC about a year after it opened: I want to go back but only because I felt that the three hours I spent inside were not quite enough to absorb its entirety. I must be content to read memoirs and historical accounts. I am by no means obsessed: I reserve that for Nabokov and knitting. But I don’t think I’ll stop reading until I feel like I have begun to understand.
I was at once perplexed and relieved to read this line placed in the middle of Primo Levi’s memoir of Auschwitz. Perplexed: he was there, wasn’t he? He should know that it happened, and I am depending on him to convince me that it really did. Relieved: even he thinks the realities of the concentration camps are so unbelievable that its survivors question them.
I think one reason that I am attracted to writing about the Holocaust is that I have a hard time accepting the fact that they existed. I am a child of the 1980’s; my greatest hardship in life may just be not having cable TV. I cannot begin to comprehend the conditions of life inside a concentration camp, let alone try to mull over the motivations that brought the camps to fruition.
I visited the Holocaust Museum in Washington DC about a year after it opened: I want to go back but only because I felt that the three hours I spent inside were not quite enough to absorb its entirety. I must be content to read memoirs and historical accounts. I am by no means obsessed: I reserve that for Nabokov and knitting. But I don’t think I’ll stop reading until I feel like I have begun to understand.
