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andrew_russell's review against another edition
4.0
And so the little boy died. Moaned and moaned and died. I heard it grow quiet. I lifted the little sheet. He lay there all black, only his little face was white, it remained clean. A little white face, the rest completely black. Night. Dark windows. Where to go? I'll wait til morning, in the morning I'll call people. I sat and wept because there was no-one in the house, not even that little boy. Day was breaking. I put him in a trunk...we had kept our grandfathers trunk, where he stored his tools; a small trunk, like a box. I was afraid that cats or rats would come and gnaw at him. He lay there so small, smaller than when he was alive. I wrapped him in a clean towel, a linen one. And kissed him. The trunk was just his size...
In Svetlana Alexievich's Last Witnesses: Unchildlike Stories, the author does what she does best - writes hauntingly beautiful testimonies provided by those who bore witness to a significant event in Soviet history. In the case of this book, that event was the Second World War and Alexievich also homes in on a specific group in society. Children.
The testimony which is related at the start of this review was provided to Alexievich by Dunya Golobeva, writing of the death of her infant cousin. Her and her family had been fleeing from the Nazi war machine, following the commencement of Operation Barbarossa, the German operation to invade the Soviet Union. When she talks of being alone, she shares a trait with others who also provide the words of Alexievich's work; the murder of entire families, with only the children remaining alive (although, often they too were murdered). Consequently, the reader is left with a sense of children witnessing the unbearable at far too young an age, forced to grow up in a way that nobody should have to experience. The results can be devastating to read of.
I saw what shouldn't be seen. What a man shouldn't see. And I was little...I saw a soldier who was running and seemed to stumble. He fell. For a long time, he clawed at the ground, he clung to it...I saw how they drove our prisoners of war through the village. In long columns. In torn and burned greatcoats. Where they stayed overnight, the bark was gnawed off the trees. Instead of food, they threw them a dead horse. The men tore it to pieces. I saw a German train go off the rails and burn up during the night, and in the morning they laid all those who had worked for the railroad on the tracks and drove a locomotive over them. I saw how they harnessed people to a carriage. They had yellow stars on their backs. They drove them on with whips. They rode along merrily. I saw how they knocked children from their mothers arms with bayonets. And threw them into a fire. Into a well...our turn, mama's and mine, didn't come...I saw my neighbours dog crying. He sat in the ashes of our neighbour's house. Alone. He had an old man's eyes....And I was little. - Yura Karpovich - eight years old
If this kind of stuff doesn't move to you to feel something - certainly a sense of sorrow and heartfelt sadness, possibly one of anger at the injustices perpetrated by man upon fellow man - then...well, I have no words to explain politely how that could come about. But perhaps more importantly than all that (and this maybe goes without saying), is the statement this work makes regarding the effects of war upon the most helpless - young children. All of the words written in Last Witness relate to testimony provided by the victims when they are well into their adult years. But it is clear that they are still haunted by the memories the words evoke. Families rent asunder, close ones and loved ones murdered in brutal cold blood. It leaves it's mark and if nothing else, this is the powerful message that Last Witness conveys.
At times, making the creative choice to focus on one societal group gives the book a sense of uniformity that leads to repetition - this can be not only draining but seems to do a disservice to to the topic in hand. But then a passage of poetic devastation leaves you slack-jawed in wonder at the animalistic behaviour that fellow humans are capable of. And you realise that this work is powerful, in a way that outweigh's most of the negative effect of this sense of repetitiveness.
This collection is worth reading. Sure, I would have liked a greater variety through the book's length but nonetheless, it's sure as hell worth reading.
In Svetlana Alexievich's Last Witnesses: Unchildlike Stories, the author does what she does best - writes hauntingly beautiful testimonies provided by those who bore witness to a significant event in Soviet history. In the case of this book, that event was the Second World War and Alexievich also homes in on a specific group in society. Children.
The testimony which is related at the start of this review was provided to Alexievich by Dunya Golobeva, writing of the death of her infant cousin. Her and her family had been fleeing from the Nazi war machine, following the commencement of Operation Barbarossa, the German operation to invade the Soviet Union. When she talks of being alone, she shares a trait with others who also provide the words of Alexievich's work; the murder of entire families, with only the children remaining alive (although, often they too were murdered). Consequently, the reader is left with a sense of children witnessing the unbearable at far too young an age, forced to grow up in a way that nobody should have to experience. The results can be devastating to read of.
I saw what shouldn't be seen. What a man shouldn't see. And I was little...I saw a soldier who was running and seemed to stumble. He fell. For a long time, he clawed at the ground, he clung to it...I saw how they drove our prisoners of war through the village. In long columns. In torn and burned greatcoats. Where they stayed overnight, the bark was gnawed off the trees. Instead of food, they threw them a dead horse. The men tore it to pieces. I saw a German train go off the rails and burn up during the night, and in the morning they laid all those who had worked for the railroad on the tracks and drove a locomotive over them. I saw how they harnessed people to a carriage. They had yellow stars on their backs. They drove them on with whips. They rode along merrily. I saw how they knocked children from their mothers arms with bayonets. And threw them into a fire. Into a well...our turn, mama's and mine, didn't come...I saw my neighbours dog crying. He sat in the ashes of our neighbour's house. Alone. He had an old man's eyes....And I was little. - Yura Karpovich - eight years old
If this kind of stuff doesn't move to you to feel something - certainly a sense of sorrow and heartfelt sadness, possibly one of anger at the injustices perpetrated by man upon fellow man - then...well, I have no words to explain politely how that could come about. But perhaps more importantly than all that (and this maybe goes without saying), is the statement this work makes regarding the effects of war upon the most helpless - young children. All of the words written in Last Witness relate to testimony provided by the victims when they are well into their adult years. But it is clear that they are still haunted by the memories the words evoke. Families rent asunder, close ones and loved ones murdered in brutal cold blood. It leaves it's mark and if nothing else, this is the powerful message that Last Witness conveys.
At times, making the creative choice to focus on one societal group gives the book a sense of uniformity that leads to repetition - this can be not only draining but seems to do a disservice to to the topic in hand. But then a passage of poetic devastation leaves you slack-jawed in wonder at the animalistic behaviour that fellow humans are capable of. And you realise that this work is powerful, in a way that outweigh's most of the negative effect of this sense of repetitiveness.
This collection is worth reading. Sure, I would have liked a greater variety through the book's length but nonetheless, it's sure as hell worth reading.
fio31's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
inspiring
reflective
sad
fast-paced
5.0
thebookthiefgirl's review against another edition
5.0
“The war is my history book. My solitude… I missed the time of childhood, it fell out of my life. I’m a man without a childhood. Instead of a childhood, I have the war.”
É a terceira vez que leio um livro da Svetlana e digo que esta foi a leitura mais difícil que já fiz, que me obrigou constantemente a fazer pausas para respirar. Mas o que é certo é que estas vítimas, estas vozes da humanidade carregaram um fardo pesado durante uma existência inteira. Um fardo que não podemos deixar de conhecer, sendo que só constitui uma pequena, pequeníssima parte do que aconteceu na frente soviética nos anos 1941-1945.
“How did I survive , after dying a hundred times ? I don’t know… It was my angel who saved me. He persuaded me. He appears even now.”
Por vezes, é preciso abalar-nos um bocado, colocar-nos no lugar do outro e nunca, nunca minimizarmos os sofrimentos, as angústias, as inseguranças dos outros. Conhecer as vozes que ficaram demasiado silenciadas. Ouvir o grito contido delas. Porque cada pequeno episódio, sob o olhar infantil, carrega repercussões para a vida inteira.
E estes testemunhos carregam uma realidade tão cruel, deveras tocante, que obrigou crianças inocentes a tornarem-se adultos antes do tempo. Crianças que viram, cheiraram e sentiram, de forma muito intensa, a fome, a solidão, atos cruéis de que a humanidade foi capaz durante a 2WW na União Soviética. Testemunhos de crianças que viram os pais, avós e irmãos morrerem à sua frente, sob tortura e fuzilamento, que viveram no meio dos partisan, ausentes de carinho no meio dos milhares de órfãos que esta época histórica criou, que tiveram que ser fortes perante os seus progenitores traumatizados pela frente da batalha, que viveram sob constante medo, incerteza quanto ao futuro e, por isso, perderam a inocência e os melhores anos das suas vidas…
É a terceira vez que leio um livro da Svetlana e digo que esta foi a leitura mais difícil que já fiz, que me obrigou constantemente a fazer pausas para respirar. Mas o que é certo é que estas vítimas, estas vozes da humanidade carregaram um fardo pesado durante uma existência inteira. Um fardo que não podemos deixar de conhecer, sendo que só constitui uma pequena, pequeníssima parte do que aconteceu na frente soviética nos anos 1941-1945.
“How did I survive , after dying a hundred times ? I don’t know… It was my angel who saved me. He persuaded me. He appears even now.”
Por vezes, é preciso abalar-nos um bocado, colocar-nos no lugar do outro e nunca, nunca minimizarmos os sofrimentos, as angústias, as inseguranças dos outros. Conhecer as vozes que ficaram demasiado silenciadas. Ouvir o grito contido delas. Porque cada pequeno episódio, sob o olhar infantil, carrega repercussões para a vida inteira.
E estes testemunhos carregam uma realidade tão cruel, deveras tocante, que obrigou crianças inocentes a tornarem-se adultos antes do tempo. Crianças que viram, cheiraram e sentiram, de forma muito intensa, a fome, a solidão, atos cruéis de que a humanidade foi capaz durante a 2WW na União Soviética. Testemunhos de crianças que viram os pais, avós e irmãos morrerem à sua frente, sob tortura e fuzilamento, que viveram no meio dos partisan, ausentes de carinho no meio dos milhares de órfãos que esta época histórica criou, que tiveram que ser fortes perante os seus progenitores traumatizados pela frente da batalha, que viveram sob constante medo, incerteza quanto ao futuro e, por isso, perderam a inocência e os melhores anos das suas vidas…
ofbooksandhooks's review against another edition
3.0
I am really looking forward to this book being made into an audiobook. I feel as though it's important to start with that because I found that reading this book and not listening to it (it is an oral history, after all) made it so difficult to connect with it. However, I have a lot of faith that the audiobook will be astounding.
Something that should be known about me from the beginning of this review is that I am not a fan of WWII narratives. I find that there are very few books, fiction or otherwise, that actually connect with the history in a new and unique way. Often, it's tragedy porn and people leaf through them like they do true crime on TV. There's no depth or really connecting going on between reader and author.
Perhaps it was the style, perhaps the voices, but I did actually find that this was a unique perspective on the war. Soviet and Baltic states/countries were all too often looked over no only during WWII, but also in the years that followed. Granted, I am not sure if this account has also had its story sent through the scanner before publication for any non-anti German sentiments, but so long as you read with the understanding of its origins, it's provocative and worth pondering.
If you're the type of reader who is interested in adding another layer to your understanding of WWII, please do give this collection of stories a chance. It may not hit home with everyone, but these stories are important to be heard and understand so that we can, maybe, avoid them repeating in the future.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers associated with this wonderful resource for feedback and honest reviews.
Something that should be known about me from the beginning of this review is that I am not a fan of WWII narratives. I find that there are very few books, fiction or otherwise, that actually connect with the history in a new and unique way. Often, it's tragedy porn and people leaf through them like they do true crime on TV. There's no depth or really connecting going on between reader and author.
Perhaps it was the style, perhaps the voices, but I did actually find that this was a unique perspective on the war. Soviet and Baltic states/countries were all too often looked over no only during WWII, but also in the years that followed. Granted, I am not sure if this account has also had its story sent through the scanner before publication for any non-anti German sentiments, but so long as you read with the understanding of its origins, it's provocative and worth pondering.
If you're the type of reader who is interested in adding another layer to your understanding of WWII, please do give this collection of stories a chance. It may not hit home with everyone, but these stories are important to be heard and understand so that we can, maybe, avoid them repeating in the future.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers associated with this wonderful resource for feedback and honest reviews.
georgiarybanks's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
informative
sad
medium-paced
4.5
Content Warnings
Minor: Death, Death of parent, Injury/Injury detail, Deportation, Genocide, Blood, Child death, Confinement, Violence, Animal death, Grief, Torture, Gun violence, and War
musingsfromamandalyn's review against another edition
4.0
I have been to so many museums, seen the artifacts, read the statistics but I feel like those displays are deliberately removed from the actual people. Yes, you see how many people were killed per battle, but you don't read stories about those left behind. Any tales focus on the soldiers, not the families. Hearing these snippets from so many children during WWII was such an eye-opening experience. There is definite sadness and loss but also uplifting tales of reunions, strangers doing anything they can to help, survival, etc. The stories also state that the children continued to survive, which is why they did this book. It states what they are doing with their lives now. So many stories and voices. The audiobook does have 3 different narrators who switch off. Originally, I found the shortness of each tale difficult to then switch to the next, but given the subject matter, I think longer tales may have been too difficult. This is definitely a difficult book at times, but I recommend to anyone who wants a new view on history.
masugoupil's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
informative
reflective
sad
tense
slow-paced
4.75
mycriminalmind's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
informative
fast-paced
4.75