ENGL 101 012

There is no why here.” Perhaps that terse reply is the only adequate response to all questions of “Why?” relating to the Holocaust. ♦

vainglorious

“She is a personable and knowing young female, albeit too flachbrustig (though her Arsch is perfectly all right, and if you hoiked up that tight skirt you’d . . . Don’t quite see why I write like this. It isn’t my style at all).”

recent novels by Susanna Moore and Ayelet Waldman achieve their emotional power by focussing upon characters peripheral to the terrible European history that has nonetheless altered their lives.

risky Nazi novel

“the man who controls the appointment book of the Deliverer.” (For some reason, no one in “The Zone of Interest” calls Adolf Hitler by his name; elevated circumlocutions are used.)

He sits through Nazi concerts calculating “how long it would take . . . to gas the audience.”

One could argue, just as plausibly, that Hitler and his henchmen were not at all “exceptional” in a human history that has always included warfare, unspeakable cruelty, and attempted genocide; what set the Nazis apart from less efficient predecessors was their twentieth-century access to the instruments of industrialized warfare and annihilation, and a propaganda machine that excluded all other avenues of information for an essentially captive German population.

“The Sonders have suffered Seelenmord—death of the soul,” as if a German-speaking character would translate his thoughts in this way. The author of the novel, not the narrator of the chapter, wants to highlight certain phrases for the benefit of the reader, but the mannerism is as distracting as a nudge in the ribs.

“I used to be numb; now I’m raw.”

The author’s rage at Holocaust horrors is portioned into scenes and sentences; it does not gather into a powerful swell, to overwhelm or terrify.

The author’s rage at Holocaust horrors is portioned into scenes and sentences; it does not gather into a powerful swell, to overwhelm or terrify.

uthor’s rage at

uthor’s rage at Holocaust

author’s rage at Holocaust horrors is portioned into scenes and sentences; it does not gather into a powerful swell, to overwhelm or terrify

hen Theodor Adorno declared, in 1949, that “to write poetry after Auschwitz is barbaric,” he could hardly have anticipated the ensuing quantity of poetry and prose that actually concerned itself with the Holocaust, still less its astonishing range and depth.

“dumping ground

The Zone is a place to which Jewish “evacuee

With virtually every page of the novel reporting some horror, including the awful stench of death en masse,

 ” Amis joins in a general bewilderment among historians about “understanding” Hitler: “We know a great deal about the how—about how he did what he did; but we seem to know almost nothing about the why.”

One could argue, just as plausibly, that Hitler and

stricken with self-pity for being ill-treated by his wife

The boy and the tree are both “flawed,” and in the most old-fashioned way, their flaws, which are also their characters, determine their fates.

For those who need a recap: Boy meets adoring, obliging apple tree and eventually, through a combination of utter impotence and blatant manipulation, makes off with her branches, her trunk and, of course, the literal fruits of her labor. (I’m not even going to get into the biblical implications of Silverstein’s decision to make the tree of the book’s title apple-bearing.) “And the tree was happy,” reads the last line of the 52-page story, a sentiment repeated by Silverstein so many times that it sends some, like me, into paroxysms of reflexive indignation.

O.K., maybe I’m exaggerating a bit, but you get the idea.)”

What are we to make of all those happys like poppies dense in a simple, flat field? Each happy alters the happy that follows it.

important to him that he keep what he called the sad ending.

“One star or five, there is no middle ground,” declared another.

The boy uses the tree as a plaything, lives off her like a parasite, and then, when she’s a shell of her former self and no longer serves any real purpose, he sits on her

What are its adjectives, after the one in the title, “giving,” which never appears in the story itself? Little, tired, happy, older, alone, happy, too big, happy, happy, long, sad, happy, too busy, warm, happy, happy, so happy, too old, sad, happy, happy, long, sorry, gone, too weak, gone, too old, gone, too tired, sorry, old, sorry, quiet, very tired, old, good, happy

I never liked Shel Silverstein’s spare, twee little book, not the first time I read it, back in the late 1970s, or the second time, in the mid-1980s, or the third time, just a few weeks ago, in preparation for this column.

I’m not alone.

Here we have a story, fewer than 650 words long. What are its adjectives, after the one in the title, “giving,” which never appears in the story itself? Little, tired, happy, older, alone, happy, too big, happy, happy, long, sad, happy, too busy, warm, happy, happy, so happy, too old, sad, happy, happy, long, sorry, gone, too weak, gone, too old, gone, too tired, sorry, old, sorry, quiet, very tired, old, good, happy. “Happy” is the last word of the story, and in interviews Shel Silverstein explained that it took him years to find a publisher for “The Giving Tree” — that it had been important to him that he keep what he called the sad ending.

those who would say that Silverstein’s book is a moving, sentimental depiction of the unyielding love of a parent for a child, I’d say, Learn better parenting skills.

When sticks and stones and beasts form the sole environment of a people, their attitude is largely one of determined opposition to and conquest of natural forces.

But, nevertheless, they insist that the way to truth and right lies in straightforward honesty, not in indiscriminate flattery; in praising those of the South who do well and criticising uncompromisingly those who do ill; in taking advantage of the opportunities at hand and urging their fellows to do the same, but at the same time in remembering that only a firm adherence to their higher ideals and aspirations will ever keep those ideals within the realm of possibility.

one of the most notable figures in a nation of seventy millions

Among his own people, however, Mr. Washington has encountered the strongest and most lasting opposition, amounting at times to bitterness, and even to-day continuing strong and insistent even though largely silenced in outward expression by the public opinion of the nation.

he spiritual sons of the Abolitionists have not been prepared to acknowledge that the schools founded before Tuskegee, by men of broad ideals and self-sacrificing spirit, were wholly failures or worthy of ridicule.

Then came the Revolution of 1876, the suppression of the Negro votes, the changing and shifting of ideals, and the seeking of new lights in the great night.

His programme of industrial education, conciliation of the South, and submission and silence as to civil and political rights, was not wholly original; the Free Negroes from 1830 up to wartime had striven to build industrial schools, and t

indissolubly

So Mr. Washington’s cult has gained unquestioning followers, his work has wonderfully prospered, his friends are legion, and his enemies are confounded. To-day he stands as the one recognized spokesman of his ten million

demagogues

it startled and won the

it silenced if it did not

Mr. Washington’s cult has gained unquestioning followers

Discriminating and broad-minded criticism is what the South needs, — needs it for the sake of her own white sons and daughters, and for the insurance of robust, healthy mental and moral development

Mr. Washington apologizes for injustice, North or South, does not rightly value the privilege and duty of voting, belittles the emasculating effects of caste distinctions, and opposes the higher training and ambition of our brighter minds

a veritable Way of Life.

rich and dominating North, however, was not only weary of the race problem, hut was investing largely in Southern enterprises, and welcomed any method of peaceful cooperation

To gain the sympathy and cooperation of the various elements comprising the white South

Negro advocating such a programme after

Some of this opposition is, of course, mere envy

“Most disgusting book ever,” said one. “One star or five, there is no middle ground,” declared another. “The Nazis would have loved it,”

I never liked Shel Silverstein’s spare, twee little book, not the first time I read it, back in the late 1970s, or the second time, in the mid-1980s, or the third time, just a few weeks ago, in preparation for this column.

(I’m not even going to get into the biblical implications of Silverstein’s decision to make the tree of the book’s title apple-bearing.)

repeated by Silverstein so many times that it sends some, like me, into paroxysms of reflexive indignation

As for the argument that “The Giving Tree” is somehow a commentary on the ways humans ravage the environment, I mean, maybe?

“I don’t want to hold the tree accountable,” she continued, but she thinks there could have been a happier ending: “If only she’d set limits, she wouldn’t be a stump today!”

The boy and the tree are both “flawed,” and in the most old-fashioned way, their flaws, which are also their characters, determine their fates.

prey to Godwin’s Law — that as an online discussion grows, so does the likelihood that someone or something will be compared to a Nazi.

The boy uses the tree as a plaything, lives off her like a parasite, and then, when she’s a shell of her former self and no longer serves any real purpose, he sits on her — which makes her happy? (“That book is the epitome of male privilege,” a friend groused.)

It’s possible Silverstein was attempting to be subversive, and in that sense, this little Rorschach test of children’s literature seems to have succeeded

Learn better parenting skills.