Response:  The Drowned and the Saved by Primo Levi

Annie Kominek

           

This particular reading spoke of something I have been thinking of for years, ever since first studying the Holocaust as a child and learning of my personal family history within the Holocaust itself. I have always been curious to hear the stories of those millions that died during the Holocaust, particularly after learning that my distant family that were Gypsies, were persecuted and died in camps during the war.  I have not an ounce of Jewish blood in me, but I am descended from Polish gypsies and thus feel it is my duty and an inherent need to share their story. But how can I hear their stories? Other than through diaries, like Anne Frank, or letters of correspondence (of which I am sure there are few to none that ever existed), we have no way of knowing the truth of the suffering of those in Auschwitz or any other work camp.

“We, the survivors, are not the true witnesses. This is an uncomfortable notion f which I have become conscious little by little… We the survivors are not only an exiguous but also an anomalous minority: we are those who by their prevarications or abilities or good luck did not touch the bottom. Those who did so, those who saw the Gorgon, have not returned to tell about it…the submerged, the complete witnesses, the ones whose deposition would have a general significance (Levi, 84).”

I have always had in my mind that I want to hear the accounts of those that were not fortunate. I want to hear tale of those that were beaten to death, gassed, thrown against an electric fence – I feel their stories are the ones we truly need to hear. A third-party account is good, but there is a certain amount of distance from it. We are removed from the pain and suffering twofold: in that we did not experience it ourselves, nor did the author who is trying to explain the suffering of the deceased. When reading Maus by Art Spiegelman, I found the entire time that, while I was excited to read about the Polish side of the war from the perspective of a fellow Pole, I felt that the main character was just lucky, and not the story I wanted to hear. I want to hear the suffering, to feel it, so as I might honor them in the only way that I can, and that is to bear witness. To hear the things that I never want to know and could never forget. I feel I owe it to all the sufferers, especially those whose blood I share. I never heard their story and I never will. Their story has passed with them, and I will never assuage my guilt for living such a comfortable life when they suffered so terribly, nor will I ever be able to give them the courtesy of simply sharing their life story. I am glad Levi brought up the fact that the survivors are not the true storytellers of the Holocaust. They have a limited scope and see through the small lens of a survivor, the minority, while the millions and millions of people who suffered tremendously and perished can never share their experiences. Dead men tell no tales, and it is a tragedy that we can never truly tell it for them.