In my spare time...

I have acquired quite a bit of couch time as of late (read: slow eating nursing baby). So as not to become bored staring at the wall for 6-8 hours out of every 24, I have become a master at holding a book and flipping pages with one hand (I have also become a one-handed typing phenomenon... which is what I'm doing right now).

My latest genre of books has been of the WWII/Holocaust variety. I had a surprising amount just on my shelves:
Surprisingly enough, I had never read Night, despite it being on my "To Read" list (and my shelves) for quite some time. It is the memoir of a Polish Jew who is evacuated with his family and put in labor and concentration camps. Weisel does a beautiful job of pulling in the reader and making his experience come horrifyingly alive. It was sad to me, however, that his experience changed him from a fervent believer in God to a questioner.

Having read one holocaust book urged me to read a second. The Hidding Place is one of those books that gets quoted on occation in sacrament meeting and other such places. I had started it before, but did not get sucked in like I did this time. It is about a family--aging father and two unmarried daughters (in their 50s and 60s) in Denmark who become part of the underground railroad smuggling out Jews. And like Night, it is a true story. But such a contrast in how Corrie and Betsy (the sisters) handle the consequences of their actions compared to Weisel. I loved them from the beginning for their faith, determination, honesty, and goodness.

Much like The Hidding Place, In My Hands is about a resistance fighter rather than a Jew in a consentration camp. Irene Gut Opdyke was Polish and forced to work for the German Nazis who took over her country. Of all the books I read, this one was the most beautifully written. I loved the motifs, symbolism, and imagery.

I Will Plant You a Lilac Tree: a memoir of a Shindler's list surviver is about Laura Hillman's experience in labor and concentration camps before making it onto Schindler's list along with the Polish POW she had met and fallen in love with. While this book is not as beautifully or eloquently written as In My Hands, it is honest and real. Because my sister Sara knows the author, this story is horrifyingly real for me.

This is the first of my little series that is fiction. I read this book for the first time last year and loved it. I love the style, I love the frankness of the narrator (death), I love the characters, I love the imagery, I love the goodness in this story. This is about a make-shift German foster family who does not support Hitler in the middle of Nazi Germany. I was suprised my second time through how much language it had in it (although the vast majority is kept in German--which I don't speak--and doesn't seem to bother me as much as American swear words in print). I cried all the way through the end of this book again. When it was over, I wished there was more.

The Chosen is another book I have read before (many years ago) and remember loving. It is not as much about WWII--although it takes place during the war, only in America. It focuses on the friendship of an orthodox Hasidic Jew and a traditional Jew in New York. What I love about this book is the way it throws you in the middle of Jewish life and culture. And I love the depth and goodness of the characters. I wish I had the sequal, The Promise, but alas, I nor the SUU library seem to have it.

This is the only book left on my shelves in the WWII/holocaust genre. I started it... and I couldn't get into it (again). There something about Frankl's need to psyco-analyze the effect of the consentration camps that pushes me away. Not that I don't think what he's doing is valid, I just can't quite get pulled in yet. I feel kind of bad about it too, but what can you do?


Reading all of these books has made me think a lot about a lot of things. I think WWII pulled the absolute best and worst out of humanity. It is horrifying how brutal and cruel some were, and enobling and enabling to realize how courageous, kind, and good others were. Such a dichotomy.

It has made me reflect on why there is such suffering and the role God plays in our lives. Despite the many who lost their faith and their God because of their experiences, there were so many others who reaffirmed theirs. I am sure that God is not dead despite the millions who were killed. And I know that it was not his will that so much suffering and injustice occured. I am confident that justice will be served in the end.

I am sad to see my collection of this genre come to an end. Does anyone have any more suggestions for me? I feel somewhat at a loss for what to read next...