NIGHT BY ELIE WIESEL EBOOK
by Elie Wiesel. IF IN MY LIFETIME I WAS TO WRITE only one book, this would be the one. Just as the past lingers in the present, all my writ- ings after Night. A New Translation From The French By Marion Wiesel. Night is Elie Wiesel's masterpiece, a candid, horrific, and deeply poignant autobiographical account of . Editorial Reviews. yazik.info Review. In Nobel laureate Elie Wiesel's memoir Night, a scholarly, pious teenager is wracked with guilt at having survived the.
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Night is a work by Elie Wiesel about his experience with his father in the Nazi German concentration camps at Auschwitz and Buchenwald in. Elie Wiesel - Night FULL TEXT (1).pdf. Download Elie Wiesel - Night FULL TEXT (1).pdf ( MB). Locale: en. DocViewer. Zoom. Pages. Annotations. Previous. Read "Night" by Elie Wiesel available from Rakuten Kobo. Sign up today and get $5 off your first download. A New Translation From The French By Marion.
And most of all, I wanted a less abrupt ending. I wanted to ask Wiesel what happened in the immediate aftermath of the liberation of Buchenwald. I wanted to ask him what happened to his leg, on which he marched for several gruesome days just days after having undergone an operation, and how he picked up the pieces afterwards, and why on earth his two eldest sisters, who died in Auschwitz as well as his mother and younger sister, never warranted more than a single mention.
The latter was an example of seriously shoddy writing, I thought. Perhaps my questions were answered in the original version of Night , which never got published. In his introduction to the new English translation of Night , Wiesel mentions that the book as it is today is a severely abridged version of a much longer Yiddish original called And the World Remained Silent. I think I can see why the original wasn't published quite apart from the fact that the world wasn't ready yet for concentration camp literature, the few quotes provided in the introduction make for heavy reading.
The abridged version definitely seems more readable than the full-length one, and does an admirable job getting the facts across.
Even so, I think the publishers might have gone a step too far in abridging the book to the extent that they did. No doubt the very brevity of Night is one of the reasons why it's so popular today, but personally, I would have liked to see a middle road between the original detailed manuscript and the incredibly spare barebones version sold now. Don't get me wrong, the abridged version is effective , but as far as I'm concerned, it's the Holocaust for people with short attention spans.
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I prefer Primo Levi and Ella Lingens-Reiner's more complete accounts of life in the camps myself, not to mention several Dutch books which sadly never got translated into other languages. But still. Night is an important book, and one that deserves to be widely read.
In fact, one that should be widely read, by people of all ages and nationalities, to prevent nightmare like this ever happening again. View all 34 comments. Deluso da Sodoma, fece piovere dal cielo il fuoco e lo zolfo. E invece, gli uomini che hanno riempito i campi di concentramento, traditi e abbandonati da dio, che li ha lasciati torturare, morire di fame, bruciare, gassare, sgozzare tra loro, che fanno?
Pregano dio e lodano il suo nome p. Dio che si fa battere da Hitler, l'unico che ha veramente mantenuto le sue promesse, tutte le sue promesse col popolo ebraico p. View all 11 comments. View all 4 comments. Dec 15, Lyn rated it it was amazing. I have read two books that described a nightmare, painted a picture of hell. I still think of this book sometimes and shudder and I realize that evil is never too far buried in us.
The scene where the line of doomed prisoners splits in two with Mengela conducting, a perverse parody of the last judgment seems ripped from Dante. Dec 17, Kat rated it it was amazing Recommends it for: I teach this book yearly, but my students seemed distant from the true reality of the story.
Real people, real history. The immediacy of the tragedy that was Wiesel's then comes to life in a way that a junior or senior can grasp. I also tell the story of my friend, Ida, and her "no grandparents". That is the hardest part for me as it is so personal. She was the daughter of survivors - she had no grandparents and I I teach this book yearly, but my students seemed distant from the true reality of the story. She was the daughter of survivors - she had no grandparents and I gave her mine.
The sharing of my friend with my beloved grandmother and grandfather was one of the true blessings of my life and our lives were enriched through the immense addition to our family. I was also blessed by her adding us to her home and her celebrations.
My faith was enlarged.
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This is a powerful book - a simple one to read, but a difficult one to comprehend. Engagingly written and honest to the core - even the difficult, prickly human parts that would embarrass anyone to reveal -- this is the heart of humanity's difficult path - how do we grow if we can't love one another for the similarities and the differences.
I wish I could say there was no more genocide, but that would be a dreamer's lie. Bless this with a read and light a candle in our darkness. Also, go and view the dress at the Holocaust Museum website - you will leave changed.
View all 17 comments. This new translation by Marion Wiesel, Elie's wife and frequent translator, presents this seminal memoir in the language and spirit truest to the author's original intent.
Night By Elie Wiesel
And in a substantive new preface, Elie reflects on the enduring importance of Night and his lifelong, passionate dedication to ensuring that the world never forgets man's capacity for inhumanity to man. This here is exactly why I refuse to participate with anything regarding Germany; the world is complicit in its indifference.
And the effect spreads like a snowball, gathering more and more edicts as the days go by. Nothing gets my blood boiling quite like seeing the numerous acts of silence committed by these citizens. People love to victim-blame the Jews by asking the distasteful question of why they didn't stand up to the oppressor Experiencing numbness in order to remain sane at the sight of tragedy.
This French girl's wisdom has stayed in mind, in particular, because the next paragraph describes an out-of-this-world experience wherein Elie Wiesel stumbles upon her eons later: But the most painful of all remains to be the relationship portrayed between father and son that keeps both alive in the face of inhumanity.
Many more sorrowful revelations are shared within the pages of this must-read. My arms gathered with goosebumps at that because the date I was reading this book was April 11th. I'll end this review by sharing my favorite Elie Wiesel quote: The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference.
The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference.
download a Coffee for nat bookspoils with Ko-fi. View 2 comments. Night is perhaps one of the most remarkable, harrowing and haunting accounts of the events in the Nazi Germany concentration camps Auschwitz and Buchenwald.
I read this powerful work only a few days before news of the author's, Elie Wiesel's, death were announced, and both shocked me. The first, because unless you have experienced it for yourself, you will never be able to realize the full extent of what happened in the Second World War with all its different facets and emotions, and the latter, Night is perhaps one of the most remarkable, harrowing and haunting accounts of the events in the Nazi Germany concentration camps Auschwitz and Buchenwald.
The first, because unless you have experienced it for yourself, you will never be able to realize the full extent of what happened in the Second World War with all its different facets and emotions, and the latter, because with Elie Wiesel, a remarkable man has left this planet who fought for memorizing the Holocaust, who fought against violence, suppression and racism. Perhaps you will not find the most eloquent, the most artful language in this work of literature, but that's nothing you should expect to find in a book dealing with something as frightening, as horrifying, as real as the Holocaust.
In his nonfictional book, Elie Wiesel writes about his own survival in the concentration camps, about reflections of the father-son relationship with his father, about humanity and inhumanity.
It's a book everyone should read, because ultimately, the Second World War is something everyone should remember. Forgetting would be the worst way to deal with it. A lot of people, more people than would be good, claim that it has all been "so long ago", is so completely irrelevant nowadays, just belongs to this boring stuff people are tortured with in school because it belongs to this dry nonsense called "history".
I usually don't tell people they're wrong Because in this case, they can't be more wrong. The Holocaust needs to be remembered, because if humans forget the mistakes they did, they will tend to repeat them.
And I think everyone can agree that the Holocaust should never, never be repeated. This is a book which is incredibly difficult to review, just like it is difficult to read - not for its language or its style; I read it in one sitting in the course of three or four hours - but rather for the horrifying events Elie Wiesel talks about.
I can only recommend to read this book to everyone, independent from how much you already know about the topic. And on a final note: Rest in Peace, Elie Wiesel. View all 37 comments. Aug 08, Heidi The Reader rated it it was amazing Shelves: Night is Elie Wiesel's memoir about his experiences during the Holocaust. It is shocking and sad, but worth reading because of the power of Wiesel's witnessing one of humanity's darkest chapters and his confession on how it changed him.
In the new introduction to the ebook version I read, Wiesel talked about the difficulty he had putting words to his experience. I also knew that, while I had many thin Night is Elie Wiesel's memoir about his experiences during the Holocaust. I also knew that, while I had many things to say, I did not have the words to say them. I wish I knew enough Yiddish to read it. There's something powerful about reading books in their original form.
Wiesel closes his introduction with his reasons for writing this book: He has no right to deprive future generations of a past that belongs to our collective memory. To forget would be not only dangerous but offensive; to forget the dead would be akin to killing them a second time.
Even though a member of his community warned Wiesel's village about the horrors that awaited them, they didn't believe him. After they were placed in a ghetto, the Jewish population of Sighet thought that the worst was behind them. Afterward everything would be as before. The ghetto was ruled by neither German nor Jew; it was ruled by delusion. If I had been in their place, I don't think that I would have acted any differently.
How could one possibly imagine the horrors that they were going to face? Wiesel is starved, overworked and beaten in the concentration camps.
He loses more than his family and faith: I had not seen myself since the ghetto. From the depths of the mirror, a corpse was contemplating me. The look in his eyes as he gazed at me has never left me.
Never forget. View all 7 comments. From the first few sentences, to the final closings words, I did not move. Elie Wiesel had my complete attention, and total respect, for the immense courage it must have taken to relive the horrors he went through in writing this book. Harrowing and chilling but told with great compassion, his struggle for survival during the holocaust is almost too unbearable to contemplate. But this has to be read, and everyone should do so, it makes all the mundane things in life seem far more important.
Afte From the first few sentences, to the final closings words, I did not move. After the last page was done, I looked out the window of my apartment, up at the sky, down in the street, the noise of the city, the people walking by. The life, the freedom, the hugs, the kisses. What overriding joy.
Jan 16, Erika rated it it was amazing Shelves: Night is not a book that I can review. It defies critique, and even analyzing it from my sunny porch with a cup of coffee, feels wrong. By the end of the 60s that relationship encompassed adult children of survivors, scholars, deniers, apologists, voyeurs, and people who hold their ears the moment the subject comes up.
Night was written before any of that. For that reason, I believe it should be required reading for everyone. Night is short and the writing is simple. It feels stark, honest, and hallowed in the way of powerful memorials. In the preface of my edition, Wiesel writes: I am not convinced. A miracle? Certainly not. If heaven could or would perform a miracle for me, why not for others more deserving than myself? It was nothing more than chance. However, having survived, I needed to give some meaning to my survival.
Wiesel was a brilliant light in the darkness he depicts so powerfully. There were arguably more illuminating philosophers. But no single figure was able to combine Mr. But after reading that beautiful quote, I would rather close with this photo of the day he won the Nobel Peace Prize, which illustrates the knowledge he gave the world rather than the darkness he endured. View all 27 comments. I remember that I first became aware of this story when it was put on the Oprah book club list years ago..
We read all these novels based on the Holocaust and they are really tough to read, but these first hand personal experiences are so brutal and unimaginable. Ellie was only 15 when he and his family where taken away to the camps. Excerpt fr I remember that I first became aware of this story when it was put on the Oprah book club list years ago..
Excerpt from Night Never shall I forget that night, the first night in camp, which has turned my life into one long night, seven times cursed and seven times sealed. Never shall I forget the little faces of the children, whose bodies I saw turned into wreaths of smoke beneath a silent blue sky.
Never shall I forget those flames which consumed my faith forever. Never shall I forget that nocturnal silence which deprived me, for all eternity, of the desire to live. Never shall I forget those moments which murdered my God and my soul and turned my dreams to dust. Never shall I forget these things, even if I am condemned to live as long as God Himself.
View all 23 comments. Jun 06, Kristen rated it it was amazing Recommends it for: A poignant and unforgettable 5 star read. I'm glad I did. Night , which is one man's tragic yet remarkable survival of the Holocaust, is a powerful, shocking, heartbreaking, poignant, yet triumph-of-the-soul biography.
This book speaks to humanity about the atrocities man is capable of committing. It A poignant and unforgettable 5 star read.
It also demonstrates the resilience of the human spirit and the capacity for good to rise above evil and make a difference. If you haven't read Night yet, I highly encourage you to read it. This is one of those life-changing books everyone should read. View all 70 comments. Sep 09, Kelli rated it it was amazing Shelves: This is not a review. I am not worthy to review this book. This is my third time reading Night, having read it as a requirement in both high school and college.
I picked it up at the library because it was upright on a shelf and I noticed it had a new preface by the author. I have read that preface four times so far. I am speechless. I am awestruck by the tremendous person that Elie Wiesel is. The story is a heartbreaking, terrifying account This is not a review. The story is a heartbreaking, terrifying account of unimaginable suffering that must be read and remembered. Wow this book..
Unimaginable horrors. Tore my heart out into a million pieces. I regret not having read this earlier, this is a true account of Elie Wiesel as a young Jewish boy who has no foreseeable knowledge and understanding of what was around the corner when his family are forced to flee from their home in Romania, and the unknown horrors that awaited them.
Even though I've read and have stu Wow this book.. Even though I've read and have studied many of these stories of the Holocaust and of the concentration camps in Auschwitz, I was still surprised how shocked I was by the atrocities and how it was written made me shed so many more tears and emotions that I didn't know could still exist.
This book is a must read and deserves it's nobel peace prize. I felt so connected to the story and to Elie that I had trouble sleeping. What a tragedy it is to have lost this true humanitarian treasure last year and will forever be grateful that this book and others like this exist. Thank you sir I hope you find your peace in heaven and find your family again. Jan 12, Sean Gray rated it it was ok Recommends it for: Recommended to Sean by: Night, was possibly one of the worst books I've ever read.
I was suprised when I logged on to find, Five star reviews of this book. Yeah, so it was written by a holocaust survivor.
It doesn't make it well written. From a literary standpoing, purely. It was terrible. As Ms. Hawley would say, It lacked sentence variation. Maybe it was better when it was written in German? Maybe he should have let a "professional" writer, write it for him. I'm not bashing him, or his writing. Kind of. His writing n Night, was possibly one of the worst books I've ever read. His writing not him. Too me I felt as if it was written by a 10 year old, who repeats everything.
And then And then this Oh, and then I mean, the holocaust was and is so tragic, it hardly makes a good setting for a story. And yeah, that was his experience. And his literary inspiration.
But maybe we just shouldn't be required to read it. And I also learned it was on Oparah's book club list. But anywho. My opinion seems to be the only one of it's sort. Maybe I'm just wrong? View all comments. Mar 03, Tom Mathews rated it it was amazing Recommends it for: Anyone and everyone.
July 2, On hearing of the passing of Elie Wiesel, President Obama, who visited the site of the Buchenwald concentration camp with Wiesel in , said "He raised his voice, not just against anti-Semitism, but against hatred, bigotry and intolerance in all its forms. He implored each of us, as nations and as human beings, to do the same, to see ourselves in each other and to make real that pledge of 'never again. When I heard the sad news I decided it was time to drop what I was reading and refresh my memory of Wiesel's seminal holocaust memoir.
As he says in his preface to the new edition, we all have a "moral obligation to try and prevent the enemy from enjoying one last victory by allowing his crimes to be erased from human memory. Eliezer Wiesel's memoir sits with Anne Frank's diary at the top of the list of must-read books about the holocaust. While Frank puts a human face on those who died, Wiesel, as one who witnessed and endured the horrors of the holocaust takes the stand and testifies with heartbreaking eloquence of all that he saw and suffered.
Yet that was the moment I left my mother. In 28 words he consigns over half his family to the crematorium. No emotion. No blubber. Yet nothing he could have said could have made the reader feel more keenly the horror of the event. What is worse; to kill a man or to turn him into someone who would kill his own father for a crust of bread? Yet Wiesel manages to remind us that even in the depths of Hell, there is room for a touch of the sublime.
Those were my thoughts when I heard the sound of a violin. A violin in a dark barrack where the dead were piled on top of the living? It had to be Juliek. He was playing a fragment of a Beethoven concerto. Never before had I heard such a beautiful sound. In such silence. I shall never forget Juliek. How could I forget this concert given before an audience of the dead and dying?
Even today, when I hear that particular piece by Beethoven, my eyes close and out of the darkness emerges the pale and melancholy face of my Polish comrade bidding farewell to an audience of dying men.
The revision of the book includes a new preface by Wiesel and, at the end, the acceptance speech when he won the Nobel Peace Prize. In it he said I swore never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation. We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Although Elie Wiesel is no longer with us, his words, his testimony, will live on.
Jewish tradition teaches us that we are never really dead until there is no one who remembers us. Let us hope that Eliezer Wiesel stays with us for a long, long, time. Feb 17, Katie rated it it was amazing Shelves: Difficult to review. Night is a brutal first-hand account of life in Auschwitz. Wiesel tells us with simple but supremely eloquent prose what effect these daily horrors had on the human soul.
Tells us, in effect, how low we can go, how even a son can kill his own father for a morsel of bread if subjected to inhumane treatment Difficult to review. Tells us, in effect, how low we can go, how even a son can kill his own father for a morsel of bread if subjected to inhumane treatment for long enough. View all 6 comments. Nov 15, Elyse Walters rated it it was amazing. I read this book once before but read it again yesterdaywith the new preface by his wife Marion Wiesel.
I did not plan on reading the whole thing--I just wanted to read the new Prefacebut then while sitting around with sick people in the house --I just dived into the horror again View all 3 comments. Aug 02, K. Oprah Book of the Month. Two teenage children who saw the atrocities of the German armies who were blinded by their loyalty to Hitler.
There were a few differences: Anne Frank died in the concentration camp while Elie Wiessel survived. Anne Frank's diary, first published as The Diary of a Young Girl in , was written in young girl's language while she was on a hiding while Night by Elie Wiesel tells the If Anne Frank was 13 when Germans came to Netherlands, Elie Wiessel was 15 when the same thing happened in Romania. Of course, I am not expecting Wiesel to do ala Frank McCourt in Angela's Ashes , winning the Pulitzer and later be hounded by controversy that what he told in the story were exaggerated if not untrue.
Reading Night was still a haunting and extremely sad experience for me just like any other holocaust novels that I've read so far. I just thought that it would have been more gripping if Wiesel put more meat in his descriptions of the locales in the same manner as what Imre Kertezs another Holocaust survivor did in his Fatelessness and of course, Thomas Kennealy he is a writer only in Schindler's List. They are just too many books on Holocaust now and these are just the 4 among the more "famous" ones but my heart still cries buckets of tears while reading them.
Critiquing a well-loved book like this is like blasphemy. I just feel like I am doing the 6 million Jews who perished in that horrendous shameless genocide an injustice if I say something about any literature depicting what they went through. What they went through has marked a permanent etch in our collective psyche.
Their stories need to be told to and read by all the future generations. I hope that this generation and all the next ones will remember the Holocaust and learn the lesson from it.
Saying these things is almost like a cliche since it is just stating the obvious from a well-known fact. This sounds like a beauty-pageant-kind-of-question but if I were given a chance to talk to one famous living person, I would choose Elie Wiesel.
I will ask him what exactly he was thinking in that scene when the young boy with angel's sad face was hanged. He was looking at the boy, who because he weighted light being a boy , did not die right away but hanged there still breathing for few hours.
Somebody at the back said: Where is God now? Here He is - He is hanging here on this gallows. I would like to know how he was able to switch back his faith despite what he was experiencing in the camp. What is it that make us believers cling on to God despite being all the hopelessness and desperation that we all go through at times?
Elie Wiesel is in the second row from the bottom. This is where—hanging here from this gallows. He hears thousands of slaves cry out in unison, "Blessed be the Almighty! But this day, he does not kneel, he stands. The human creature, humiliated and offended in ways that are inconceivable to the mind or the heart, defies the blind and deaf divinity. I no longer pleaded for anything.
I was no longer able to lament.
On the contrary, I felt very strong. I was the accuser, God the accused. My eyes had opened and I was alone, terribly alone in a world without God, without man. Without love or mercy. I was nothing but ashes now, but I felt myself to be stronger than this Almighty to whom my life had been bound for so long.
In the midst of these men assembled for prayer, I felt like an observer, a stranger. And I, who believe that God is love, what answer was there to give my young interlocutor whose dark eyes still held the reflection of the angelic sadness that had appeared one day on the face of a hanged child?
What did I say to him? Did I speak to him of that other Jew, this crucified brother who perhaps resembled him and whose cross conquered the world? Did I explain to him that what had been a stumbling block for his faith had become a cornerstone for mine? And that the connection between the cross and human suffering remains, in my view, the key to the unfathomable mystery in which the faith of his childhood was lost?
And yet, Zion has risen up again out of the crematoria and the slaughterhouses. The Jewish nation has been resurrected from among its thousands of dead. It is they who have given it new life. We do not know the worth of one single drop of blood, one single tear. All is grace. If the Almighty is the Almighty, the last word for each of us belongs to Him. That is what I should have said to the Jewish child. But all I could do was embrace him and weep.
He was the jack-ofall-trades in a Hasidic house of prayer, a shtibl. The Jews of Sighet—the little town in Transylvania where I spent my childhood—were fond of him. He was poor and lived in utter penury. As a rule, our townspeople, while they did help the needy, did not particularly like them. Moishe the Beadle was the exception. He stayed out of people's way.
His presence bothered no one. He had mastered the art of rendering himself insignificant, invisible. Physically, he was as awkward as a clown. His waiflike shyness made people smile. As for me, I liked his wide, dreamy eyes, gazing off into the distance. He spoke little.
He sang, or rather he chanted, and the few snatches I caught here and there spoke of divine suffering, of the Shekhinah in Exile, where, according to Kabbalah, it awaits its redemption linked to that of man.
I met him in I was almost thirteen and deeply observant. By day I studied Talmud and by night I would run to the synagogue to weep over the destruction of the Temple. Maimonides tells us that one must be thirty before venturing into the world of mysticism, a world fraught with peril. First you must study the basic subjects, those you are able to comprehend. He rarely displayed his feelings, not even within his family, and was more involved with the welfare of others than with that of his own kin.
The Jewish community of Sighet held him in highest esteem; his advice on public and even private matters was frequently sought. There were four of us children. Hilda, the eldest; then Bea; I was the third and the only son; Tzipora was the youngest.
My parents ran a store. Hilda and Bea helped with the work.
As for me, my place was in the house of study, or so they said. He wanted to drive the idea of studying Kabbalah from my mind. In vain. I succeeded on my own in finding a master for myself in the person of Moishe the Beadle. He had watched me one day as I prayed at dusk. I had never asked myself that question. I cried because because something inside me felt the need to cry.
That was all I knew. Why did I pray? Strange question. Why did I live? Why did I breathe? He explained to me, with 4 great emphasis, that every question possessed a power that was lost in the answer… Man comes closer to God through the questions he asks Him, he liked to say.
Therein lies true dialogue. Man asks and God replies. But we don't understand His replies. We cannot understand them. Because they dwell in the depths of our souls and remain there until we die. The real answers, Eliezer, you will find only within yourself. One evening, I told him how unhappy I was not to be able to find in Sighet a master to teach me the Zohar, the Kabbalistic works, the secrets of Jewish mysticism.
He smiled indulgently. After a long silence, he said, "There are a thousand and one gates allowing entry into the orchard of mystical truth.
Every human being has his own gate. He must not err and wish to enter the orchard through a gate other than his own. That would present a danger not only for the one entering but also for those who are already inside.
Thus began my initiation. Together we would read, over and over again, the same page of the Zohar. Not to learn it by heart but to discover within the very essence of divinity. And in the course of those evenings I became convinced that Moishe the Beadle would help me enter eternity, into that time when question and answer would become ONE.
And Moishe the Beadle was a foreigner. Crammed into cattle cars by the Hungarian police, they cried silently. Standing on the station platform, we too were crying.
The train disappeared over the horizon; all that was left was thick, dirty smoke. Behind me, someone said, sighing, "What do you expect? That's war…" The deportees were quickly forgotten. A few days after they left, it was rumored that they were in Galicia, working, and even that they were content with their fate. Days went by. Then weeks and months.
Life was normal again. A calm, reassuring wind blew through our homes. The shopkeepers were doing good business, the students lived among their books, and the children played in the streets. One day, as I was about to enter the synagogue, I saw Moishe the Beadle sitting on a bench near the entrance.
He told me what had happened to him and his companions. The train with the deportees had crossed the Hungarian border and, once in Polish territory, had been taken over by the Gestapo. The train had stopped. The Jews were ordered to get off and onto waiting trucks. The trucks headed toward a forest. There everybody was ordered to get out. They were forced to dig huge trenches. When they had finished their work, the men from the Gestapo began theirs. Without passion or haste, they shot their prisoners, who were forced to approach the trench one by one and offer their necks.
Infants were tossed into the air and used as targets for the machine guns. This took place in the Galician forest, near Kolomay. How had he, Moishe the Beadle, been able to escape? By a miracle. He was wounded in the leg and left for dead… 6 Day after day, night after night, he went from one Jewish house to the next, telling his story and that of Malka, the young girl who lay dying for three days, and that of Tobie, the tailor who begged to die before his sons were killed.
Moishe was not the same. The joy in his eyes was gone. He no longer sang. He no longer mentioned either God or Kabbalah. He spoke only of what he had seen. But people not only refused to believe his tales, they refused to listen.
Some even insinuated that he only wanted their pity, that he was imagining things. Others flatly said that he had gone mad. As for Moishe, he wept and pleaded: "Jews, listen to me! That's all I ask of you. No money. No pity. Just listen to me!
Even I did not believe him. I often sat with him, after services, and listened to his tales, trying to understand his grief. But all I felt was pity.
Once, I asked him the question: "Why do you want people to believe you so much?Because they dwell in the depths of our souls and remain there until we die.
Why praise the Almighty for one's deliverance if one's existence is spent as a prisoner living on crusts of bread? Read this book even if you think you have read enough of the Holocaust and of pain and suffering.
Because in this case, they can't be more wrong. I am at a loss for words