So, I've had a particularly difficult week this week. Work's been busy and I've had a lot on my plate in general. And when that happens, I tend to blow all my money on books. As I found myself next to the Waterstones in Angel after a particularly upsetting meal with friends (disclaimer: they were not upsetting, but the topics of conversation consistently hit a nerve...), shit was going to get real.
I've (already) got through two of my varied purchase (a guide to understanding the architecture of castles anyone?) and thought I'd give some of my thoughts. Warning, these are not cheery reads. I am not a cheerful person.
1. Room by Emma Donaghue
Ok, so I'm late to Room. I haven't seen the film yet, so it counts. This book is not short, so I think it's a testament to how engaging it was that I finished it in just under three days. It was beautiful and sad in a "thank God this hasn't happened to me" sort of way.
I don't have any children but I know what it's like to have only one person in the world you feel you can cling to through difficult times. The relationship between Ma and Jack is not healthy by any stretch of the imagination and if they inhabited the world of a different novel, there would be a lot to criticise. But they don't. They, in a very real sense, live in a world all of their own. And it was well worth taking the time to visit that world.
I can't really go into the plot of this novel too much without massively spoiling everything that happens. So I'll leave it off with a GK Chesterton quote which really captures the thesis of the novel:
'There are no words to express the abyss between isolation and having one ally. It may be conceded to the mathematician that four is twice two. But two is not twice one; two is two thousand times one.'
2. The Auschwitz Report by Primo Levi and Leonardo Debenedetti
Primo Levi is, quite rightly, world famous for his literary works inspired by his time in Auschwitz (I told you this wasn't going to be cheerful). This work, forgotten about until relatively recently, cannot truly be classified as part of his oeuvres. A report commissioned by the Russians in the days immediately following the war, The Auschwitz Report is a compilation of the various illnesses and treatments observed by Levi and Debendetti during their time at the camp.
It is not filled with the deep melancholy and wise-hindsight of a lot of other Holocaust works, instead it provides a matter of fact – and importantly immediate – record of the conditions, life and effects of the camp. From every horrifying page, there emanates not the organised pain of an experience reflected on, but instead a matter-of-fact account of what people did (and, indeed, didn't do) to survive.
This is an important book. No just because of its author, but also because of the information and unique insight it provides into one of the greatest tragedies of human history.
Give it a read.