I have long delayed the time to read this book, which attracted and repelled me at once. The period of the Second World War has the same effect on me. I think it is necessary to remember, not the easy way out of oblivion, but it is so terrible that the man may be capable of anything, it freezes me.
But finally I surrendered and I do not regret it.
autobiographical narrative, disjointed and chaotic, mixing several phases of the life of the author's writing or life is a book that sounds like a cry.
How to survive the unthinkable? How to fight when we feel profoundly alive for a moment, before the pitying glances of men came to deliver you. How to revive when we lived a sort mortal experience? How to write on this? How not to sink?
We feel deeply the author lost, torn between the desire to forget, and one witness. Not knowing how to put words, while there is even his real reason to be on a story.
So we have this story. You move from anecdotes about the last days of life in camp Buchenwald, the pre-war stories, when the author was a student in Philosophy, then after the war, the headlong rush, and most importantly, This takes an immense place in the life of Jorge Semprun, literature. The evocation of Goethe, when he went to Weimar (where Goethe lived) with Lieutenant Rosenfeld, German naturalized American, who fought against his own people and against the Nazis, quotations from the poem, or when poetry is a cry of pain, and the emergence of writers that marked Semprun.
According to all that a wounded, fragile but alive. In the end, even if it shows something of his life at Buchenwald, one feels the specter of suffering throughout the book. Although he rarely mentions only the dead, even if only smoking chimneys reminiscent of the extermination with the absence of birds, this testimony is poignant. It is a story true. Literature, too, because one feels that the author writing exudes from every pore of his skin. But a critical story.
In any case, it will highlight for me.
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