This brief autobiography describes the most horrendous time of the author’s life.
It describes his journey from being a teen in a Romanian village, when stories of Nazi treatment of Jews are dismissed as irrelevant; the whole village lives in constant state of denial as the holocaust is elsewhere, happening to other people. They are safe and they are isolated, it has nought to do with them.
But when the Nazis eventually march in, their own rights are stripped away bit by bit, until they find themselves on the train to Auschwitz. Wiesel is too young, and his father is too old, and as such, they would have been headed straight for the gas chambers. But an opportune bit of advice to fudge their ages sees them through to forced labour.
The remainder of Night describes Eliezer’s efforts not to be parted from his father, not even to lose sight of him; his grief and shame at witnessing his father’s decline into helplessness and his own role transition from the cared to the caregiver are described in detail.
I am ever amazed that we, a civilized society, allowed the horror of the holocaust to ever happen, and are still lauding Nazis in any form or manner. As much as this book is hard to read, it should be essential reading. Until we realize the depth of Nazi depravity, we remain at risk of allowing this awful episode of our history to be shoved under the carpet, and allowing it to happen again.