Autobiography – 170 pages – my copy (paperback; 2001) borrowed from University of Plymouth Library during November 2011
- 5 nods out of 5 -
Allow the Worm a first, manic and loud-mouthed comment on Primo Levi’s The Drowned and the Saved: "Read it now!" That being said and digested, let us move on and review this book. Levi – a survivor of Auschwitz – reflects on the Holocaust, almost forty years after its occurrence. Levi became an internationally renowned writer in the post-war period, bringing truths to light, never letting this momentous, horrific period in history be forgotten. The Drowned and the Saved – the first work, although certainly not the last, on which the Worm has had the pleasure to read – was Levi’s last published work in his lifetime: he died afterwards in what remains uncertain circumstances. Many believe he took his own life; others that he accidentally fell down a staircase. But that is, as they say, a different story.
Much has been made of Levi’s guilt: at surviving when so many good, worthy ones died at the hands of the Nazis. Here he writes on the issue: ‘I must repeat – we, the survivors, are not the true witnesses. This is an uncomfortable notion, of which I have become conscious little by little, reading the memoirs of others and reading mine at a distance of years. We survivors are not only as exiguous but also an anomalous minority; we are those who by their prevarications or abilities or good luck did not touch the bottom.’
Using his own experience, Levi brings Auschwitz alive like no other. He analyses the ‘Orwellian falsification of memory’ of the Nazi state, in their ‘war against memory…falsification of reality, negation of reality’; of the ‘grey zone’ in which prisoner becomes both victim and persecutor, thereby confusing ‘our need to judge’; as well as the horrific description of the Jews who burnt the dead, gassed bodies of their fellow man and woman:
‘Conceiving and organising the squads was National Socialism’s most demonic crime. Behind the pragmatic aspect (to economise on able men, impose on others the most atrocious tasks), other more subtle aspects can be perceived. This institution represented an attempt to shift on to others – specifically the victims – the burden of guilt, so that they were deprived of even the solace of innocence. It is neither easy nor agreeable to dredge the abyss of viciousness, and yet I think it must be done, because what it was possible to perpetrate yesterday can be attempted again tomorrow, can overwhelm ourselves and our children. One is tempted to turn away with a grimace and close one’s mind: this is a temptation one must resist. In fact, the existence of the squads had a meaning, containing a message: “We, the master race, are your destroyers, but you are no better than we are; if we so wish and we do so wish, we can destroy not only your bodies but also your souls, just as we have destroyed ours.”’
Levi further expresses this idea of the victim becoming stained with the blood of the murderers: ‘before dying the victim must be degraded, so that the murderer will be less burdened by guilt.’ These words are so well expressed that Levi shares the talent of a poet brought against the harsh reality of evil, of chaos, and of despair.
And whilst we’re bathing in the colour of his prose, how about this:
‘Hateful also, but not insane, were the means foreseen to achieve these ends: to unleash military aggressions or ruthless wars, support Fifth Columns, transfer or remove entire populations, subjugate them, e them, or exterminate them. Neither Nietzsche nor Hitler nor Rosenberg were mad when they intoxicated themselves and their followers by preaching the myth of the Superman, to whom everything is permitted in recognition of his dogmatic and congenital superiority; but worthy of meditation is the fact that all of them, teacher and pupils, become progressively removed from reality as little by little their morality came unglued from the morality common to all times and all civilisations, which is an integral part of our human heritage and which in the end must be acknowledged.’
Make no mistake, this is a heavy read of a momentous, heavy period. However, Levi is the perfect host to guide the reader through the shock and the shame. Amongst such passages are more amiable memories, of correspondence with Germans, of his own personal, moral philosophy. What he has to say is never easy to swallow; but it is a dish we must feed on, and once started becomes addictive. He repeats the same message again and again: ‘It happened, therefore it can happen again: this is the core of what we have to say.’ It is a statement that is needed to be made; Levi was – and remains – a defender of the memories of the Holocaust. It is now up to the next generation to take on the mantle, to read Levi, to discuss Levi, to promote Levi. The Worm repeats: "You will read this book." The Worm repeats: "You will devour this book." The Worm repeats: "You will love this book."
Buy it here:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Drowned-Saved-Abacus-Books/dp/0349100470/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1323257828&sr=1-1
