A Story that sticks in the Imagination

As I’m reading 2 separate books about the holocaust currently (Sarah’s Key and The Storyteller), it strikes me like a bolt of lightening that most of my knowledge of the holocaust is about Hitler:  what HITLER did, how HITLER’S regime took over, SS soldiers, concentration camps.  Yes, there’s Schindler’s List, The Diary of Anne Frank, The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, Night, and others that focus on the victims of Hitler’s horrific crimes against humanity, but the truth remains that the vast majority of my knowledge of the Holocaust comes from my history lessons in my History classes and most of the lessons the teachers taught focused on Hitler and the “story” of the Holocaust from Hitler’s—not perspective, but at least what Hitler did more focusing on the Jews and others Hitler’s regime focused on killing.

I have to ask myself why the history books and teachers focus more on Hitler than the victims.  Why is Hitler’s name more well known than any names of any of heroes, Jewish and non-Jewish, including those who saved Jews (and the others) from destruction?

I don’t have any answers to the Why? question except to say that the only thing I can come up with is that as long as we focus on Hitler’s actions, we don’t have to FEEL.  Yes, Hitler was an evil man and he needed to be taken down a peg, but as long as we focus on him and what his regime did, our feelings about the Holocaust can stay separated from the reality. 

I haven’t begun to FEEL what happened during the Holocaust until I read the STORIES of the victims.  Yes, some of the stories I’ve been reading are works of Historical Fiction (Sarah’s Key and The Storyteller), but the truth remains that whether the story is a true memoir of someone who lived through it or a work of Historical Fiction where the essence of the story is what’s real but not the actual STORY that is told that these stories make readers like me FEEL.

Reading about Hitler is a way of separating myself from the true horror because sure, it’s awful what Hitler did, but since there aren’t any names or real faces of those who suffered, it’s not REAL what Hitler did.  These stories provide faces and names—reality.  And thus, FEELINGS…..

Jodi Picoult has, of course, done it again with her brilliant novel THE STORYTELLER.  I was riveted from beginning to end and I hated that the book came to an end at all.  She talks about how when an author ends a story without a true ending, it leaves the story forever with the reader because it's always in the reader's imagination.  She's so right.  I know a lot of people who hate stories that just end without a clear ending, but I am one who has always enjoyed them.  It's one of the reasons why GONE WITH THE WIND by Margaret Mitchell is so genius.  I have changed my mind 20 different times about the ending of that book and I like every one of my endings!  (Like Josef in THE STORYTELLER trying to write the ending of Minka's story, but can't find one that works....)  It's the reason why I refused, and continue to do so, to read or watch the sequel to GONE WITH THE WIND, SCARLETT.  I like the imaginings in my head of the ending of the original story and I don't want them "ruined" by someone else's imaginings!

As the granddaughter of a Jew myself, I really connected to Sage and her reaction to her grandmother and finally hearing her grandmother's story.  Sadly, my grandmother isn't around anymore for me to hear the whole story, but what I do remember is important and makes me proud of my heritage.

Great job, Jodi.  Great job.  Thanks for the GREAT read....

Laugh....Life IS worth living....

I try so hard every day to smile and laugh as if my life depended on it.  Smiling, even when I don't feel like smiling--so I've been told, boosts certain hormones or receptors in the brain that triggers whatever emotional part of us is needed to help us move from the sad, depressed (or even angry) state to one of peace and contentment.  Smile through the pain.  Then, when I'm not in front of anyone, when I'm "in my closet"--as Marie was--crying my eyes out, feeling as if the world is falling down around me and I'm falling apart right along with it, I can cry and let my true feelings flow.  Like Marie, I put on my smile and pretend that I'm "fine"--that all is well, when inside, I'm wondering how in the world I'm going to survive to the next moment, let alone tomorrow.

I don't know if I have or have ever had post-partum depression as Marie Osmond describes in her book MIGHT AS WELL LAUGH ABOUT IT NOW, but I do know that I have felt exactly as she has felt.  I, too, have gotten in my car and driven away from my home and family with no destination in mind except to GET AWAY.  Like Marie, I have plastered a smile on my face and gone to work, doing what had to be done, only to go home and fall apart in the privacy of my home. 

Marie is a true kindred spirit for me.  I don't know if we have both had the exact same emotional diagnosis, but I do know that I have felt what she has felt; I have been to THAT low, terrible place of wondering if my life is even worth living, but then thinking of my beloved son who needs me; I GET what she writes about. 

But because life IS WORTH LIVING, we "might as well laugh about it now" and enjoy our loved ones while we can....!

I am ashamed of my lack of Interest

I have always known that I am a Jewish descendent.  My grandmother on my mother's side was always proud of her heritage and shared as well as displayed it proudly.  Even before I had any Jewish knowledge, I nicknamed my grandmother "Baba" which, as I understand it, is a shortened form of the Polish word for Grandmother, "Babsha" (not sure of the spelling).  It's Yiddish, too, but right now I can't remember the main word.  Like my Baba, I have always been proud of my Jewish heritage.  We all have (and wear) a necklace that is a Star of David with a cross in the middle.  The Star of David, of course, is the Jewish symbol (Jews were required to wear a yellow cross on their clothes to identify them as Jews during the Holocaust) while the cross represents Christianity.  So a Star of David with a cross in the middle means "Completed Jew" or Christian Jew.  My Baba was proud of her Jewish heritage, but even more so of the fact that she had accepted Jesus Christ as her Lord and Savior.

I remember Baba telling me stories of her family from when she was a little girl, but sadly, I didn't listen well enough to remember the stories.  It breaks my heart that, like many young people, I didn't appreciate my Baba or my heritage very much while I still had her here to share stories with me.  I listened to her stories, but I listened with the mind and heart of a young person who has her whole life, her whole future ahead of her and as one who has never seen or had tragedy touch her young life.

I'm older now.  I've experienced severe traumas in my life--tragedies horrific enough that I would never wish my life on any person, not even my worst enemy, if I had any true enemies.  I wish my Baba was still here so I could listen to the story of her family's escape from Germany so that Hitler's regime couldn't touch them.  I would love to hear about how she must have felt as a little girl in a new country having to learn a new language, make new friends, and simply how to adjust to a whole new way of life.  I do know that my Baba's older sister, Marion--who I dubbed "Aunt Zazie," no idea why--had to go back a grade or two to be with my Baba in school because my Baba didn't know any English and had trouble learning the language.  Baba spoke Yiddish.  She still knew many Yiddish words in her adult life.  She tried to teach some of them to me, but again, I was too young to care to learn. 

If I have any real regrets in my life, they center around my lack of desire to learn more about my Jewish heritage--not only to listen to my Baba's stories, but to take them to heart--to learn them as part of me rather than just some stories of my grandmother. 

SARAH'S KEY could have been my Baba and her family.  While they didn't live in Paris, they still were in danger of being taken away.  What if my Aunt Zazie, in an attempt to protect my Baba, had locked my Baba in a secret room in their house with every intention of going back for her sister, only to be too late???  Why didn't I FEEL the power of my Baba's words as Julia does in this amazing story???  Why is it only now when it's too late do I FEEL the power of my heritage?  The pride? 

SARAH'S KEY is a story that, like Julia, makes me want to dig and research for more information.  I want to know everything I can.  I want to remember.  I don't ever want to forget.

(FYI:  the actress who plays either Julia or Sarah in the movie version of SARAH'S KEY is named "Polly."  Wow.  **Correction:  Polly Stone is the woman who reads the audio version of the book!  Sorry for the misunderstanding!!!!***)

Zakhor, Al Tichkah.

I love you, Marie Osmond!

I have loved Marie Osmond ever since I was a little girl.  I loved THE DONNY AND MARIE SHOW and, yes, I loved--still love--Donny, too!  I even had a Marie Barbie doll with this gorgeous purple dress.  It was the ONLY Barbie doll I had.  I loved it because it was Marie Osmond.

I continue to love both Osmonds to this day.  I own JOSEPH AND THE AMAZING TECHNICOLOR DREAMCOAT, which Donny was in, and I know all the songs!  Yes, I sing along whenever I watch it and I watch it as often as I can!

So when Marie's son died because he killed himself (just a few years ago), my heart broke for her.  Here was this woman who has lived such an incredibly charmed life, yet she's just as human as the rest of us and can be broken by sadness, too.  Marie's book THE KEY IS LOVE is a beautiful memoir not only of Marie's relationship with her amazing mother, but also the story of Marie's overcoming adversity in her life through love--not just the death of her son, but more (you'll have to read her book if you want to know more).

Marie shares her heart in THE KEY IS LOVE; she is open and honest and transparent about her own depression, her own failures as a wife, mother, sister, daughter, and entertainer, as well as about the tragedies she has suffered through, most of which have happened within the past ten years. 

Her writing style is fresh, friendly, and inviting.  I felt as if I was listing to my best friend share her heart.  She made me feel that if she and I are ever to meet (oh, I hope...!), that we would instantaneously be bosom buddies because she's of the Race of Joseph (read the ANNE OF GREEN GABLES if you want to know what the Race of Joseph means). 

If I thought I loved Marie Osmond before I read THE KEY IS LOVE, that love has grown by leaps and bounds through reading her wonderful memoir.  Don't walk to get your copy, run.  And then READ.

Oscar Wilde truly is a Genius

I absolutely love Oscar Wilde's books and THE IMPORTANCE OF EARNEST, the play, is no exception to that.  What makes this play even more enjoyable than usual is that it's a comedy through and through...and a GREAT comedy at that!  We read it in all of my British Lit. classes and I think we all enjoyed it tremendously.  Even the movie was well worth watching and, as we all know, quite often the movie does NOT do a story justice.  We all laughed and found all the jokes to be truly funny rather than laughing just to be polite.  My favorite scene of all is the one with the cucumber sandwiches.  I love how his butler just goes along with the whole thing without batting an eyelash!  Such a great play...if you've never read it, you really should!!!

Another "guilty pleasure" book

A PRECIOUS JEWEL by Mary Balogh is another book by an author who tells decent love stories, but not great.  As usual, there are many similarities between her books, but for some reason or other, I find myself enjoying the read whenever I pick up one of her novels.  I guess they will always be my guilty pleasure books....I can live with that....!  We all have to have those.