#reading

Night by Elie Wiesel

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A student gave me a copy of “Night” and it sat on my book shelf for many years. I was scared to read it. Then my niece was assigned the book for her high school English course. I pulled the book off the shelf, blew the dust off  and pealed back the cover. I wish I had jotted the student’s name in the cover.

I have to say this is one of the hardest books I’ve ever read. Right now, I am sitting in my comfy chair with a cup of coffee, knowing I could go into the cupboard and grab a snack or I could put on my warm winter coat and  walk out the door anytime I want.  But  the pages show me a sixteen-year-old kid, running twenty kilometres in freezing temperatures with only a thin musty snow-covered blanket around him, fearful that if he steps out of line an SS solider will shoot him in the back. And if he falls, he will be trampled to death. We should be so thankful for all we have.

While reading the book, it is hard to imagine how a group of people could treat others so horribly. Packing them like cattle into train cars with no room to sit, standing for hours with no food or water. The train stops. Bodies are thrown out like garbage and then the train moves on – lives forgotten. It is hard to imagine the cruelty because I have never experienced anything close to the lack of humanity carried out by the Nazis. And I wish I could say that society has learnt, but we have not. One only needs to look at the Chinese treatment of the Uyghurs to realize the lessons of the holocaust are silent to some governments.

The book follows the sixteen-year-old author from his home in Sighet (a part of Hungry in 1944), to Auschwitz in Poland then to Buna also in Poland and finally to Buchenwald in Germany where he is finally liberated by the Americans. So many horrors along the way. A major take away for me is I hadn’t realized that initially the Hungarian Jews were not worried about the Nazis. In 1944, news radio kept professing that the Red Army was close at hand. No need to worry, they thought, the Russians are on the doorstep. The Germans will be defeated. It’ll be all over before we are rounded up but it was not to be.  Soon the ghettos arrived and then the trains.  Once transported these degraded humans were starved and dying and then it was too late to fight back.

I am so glad the book is taught in high school. I am equally glad I’ve had the opportunity to read the book after so many years. It is an important reminder what can happen when an egomaniac takes power and uses the destruction of a group to obtain power. Wow sounds familiar even today. When will we learn?

And finally, Happy Hanukah

Then She Was Gone

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I just finished “Then She Was Gone” by Lisa Jewell. I don’t know how to categorize the book – Mystery? Thriller? Whatever the genre, I enjoyed the read, but holy darkness, Batman. We’re talking Chris Nolan cape crusader. Not for this review, but why is everything so dark these days – books, movies. What does this say about our society?

The novel is about the Mack family living a very common existence in North London, dinner parties, good grades, high school romance. Until a horror beyond horror hits the family. The family’s golden child, Ellie, is snatched. She’s gone. The action rips the family apart, creating weird broken relationships. The parents, Laurel and Paul, split up because Ellie’s mother devotes all her time to finding her favourite child. She gives up on the living family.

Then just as she’s recovering and starting to move on, she meets Floyd. They hook up in a coffee shop near her home. The new BF has a daughter who looks very familiar. But the relationship is not just good sex and nice clothes. We find that Floyd has a strange past with Ellie’s math tutor just before she was abducted or ran away from home. We aren’t sure at this point.

When she meets Floyd, we are happy because Laurel is moving on. Great. But it doesn’t take long until something doesn’t feel right. Is he a fraud? He doesn’t appears like his book sleeve photo – he’s a published maths for dummies author. It’s just not right. Then the truth falls like a cannon ball in the shallow end of a kid’s pool and darkness reigns.

And my goodness we have some weird relationships in the novel. Poppy, Floyd’s daughter will need some serious therapy for her entire life. Hanna, the not so golden child,  and her brother Jake have very difficult relationships with their mother. The daughter lives a lonely existence with a secret she cannot share with her mother. The only way Laurel can keep in contact with her estranged daughter is by cleaning her house and with that task she spies. The son lives in Devon (away from mother) with a wife who manages his life. Laurel’s  ex-husband remarries and they rarely make contact. Holy estrangement Batman.

And darkness? Holy cow, I’m not going to describe the basement and what goes on in there, but it kept me awake for nights. And the Irish monster, please, please may I never meet such a creature. Another screwed up relationship is between Floyd and his past. There’s not a skeleton in his closet, it’s an entire graveyard.

I couldn’t put the book down. Jewell is very good at making me want to burn another page. But if I may suggest, don’t read it before you go to bed and make sure you read it in a brightly lit safe place and please lock all your doors and windows.

Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck

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Speaking of bloggers, I’ve been reading Mark Manson’s masculine heavy self-help book. Most definitely written for a male audience. It’s not that women don’t  like profanity and penis references, but sometimes his ideas flow like beer in a dusty  rusty old tavern, “Look man, sometimes you just gotta not give a fuck. Know what I mean? There are other important things to give a fuck about. Be selective about your fucks.” Now, tell me that’s not meant for a male audience.

The book borders on the “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff” idea.  Should you care about the insignificant car parked in front of your house? Man, so many things matter more, like how to treat people with more respect. He also brings in some mindful ideas. You can’t control how people react, but you can control how you react to things. If a car is parked in front of your house and you don’t like it. It’s your problem. Your reaction shouldn’t be slash its tires. Nah, think about it. Is it really a problem? And if you slash the tires, doesn’t it just bring more problems, like jail time (I’m watching Beef on Netflix right now – this advice seems appropriate, yea?)

It’s all about choice and values. I give value – how much do I want or need a non-communicative relationship? Do I need or want this job or  is the amount of money in my bank account important. The message in the book, however, is not new. It does have value, though.

I do like the stories. The Japanese dude hiding out in the Philippines for ten or fifteen years after the war ended. The psycho lawyer who’s following the author around because she believes together, they can find a cure for death.

The book is ok, but his ideas come from other texts. I am also keeping in mind it was written by a blogger. A dude who has no professional credentials for offering any psychological advice. Is this where we are? Internet gurus whose only qualification is a blog. I read that the book was a small article he wrote on his blog. Some publisher thought it was catchy (Isn’t everything with profanity in it?) and bang, pop here’s the long text version and I’ve just made a wad of cash.

Even though I’m ready to toss the “Subtle” book out, I came upon an excellent piece of writing advice.  Just do something. Open the laptop and type– just get something written. A writer was asked how do you write so many books? And he said, “Every day I try to get at least two hundred crappy words written.” Then he goes on to say that just by sitting down and trying to do the least amount of writing, he usually ends up writing much more than that.  Can’t we apply this to everyday? Just do something.  Open the door and walk. Get in the car and go. So much of life to see and feel.

I’m fifty-fifty on this book. Yes, I got some good ideas out of it. Yes, it refreshed ideas that I’d forgotten about. Yes, I finished the book. But always the big question, would I read it again? Meh. Maybe. But there are so many better books on this subject that aren’t so manly like my go to Thich Nhat Hanh.