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carnation7 's review for:
The Painted Bird
by Jerzy Kosiński
I'm currently under quite an impression, so bear with me.
I cannot say I liked this book nor would I recommend it. I don't think anyone could read it all in a gulp. It took me one sickening sip at a time. There were several occasions when I would seriously consider slamming the book shut and sending it to hell. There were occasions when the paragraphs would seem to stretch in a morbid, loathsome parade - torture porn for torture porn's sake.
And yet, I am forced to respect it, for what it is. - A truth.
Not truth as it is, but one man's personal ugly truth about the ugly parts of human nature and the harrowing consequences of a war which left no one unscathed.
Although it's revolving around WWII, the "story" (a string of vile, revolting anecdotes, more like it) doesn't follow the war up close - no battlefields, no soldiers' everyday humdrum - in short, no Erich Maria Remarque.
Instead, we follow a nameless Polish boy, sent to the "safety" of the country's hinterland during the dangerous years. In a series of unfortunate events, he is forced to solo it from one village to the next, where he encounters the full spectrum of human cruelty and wickedness , including the reasons and motivation behind them(personal weakness, selfishness, vendetta...).
The "story" pretty much serves as an allegory for the evil implicit in Man and Humanity.
And this evil not being perpetuated by the Nazis or the Soviets (not in the main, at least), but by poor, uneducated Polish farmers instead - was the author's brilliant choice.
It is much more effective, and affective, when it comes from an unexpected angle, and not the usual notorious bunch of universally-acknowledged Bad Guys. Because not one group is morally corrupt in Kosinski's narrative - it's the human race - every individual, to some degree.
Usually, I stand by people reading WWII accounts - to have them as reminders not to allow ourselves to "fall for it" again, but... I don't think this particular book can serve that function. It simply makes the reader too angry to allow space for useful retrospection/introspection (it made me angry, and I'm quite chill on the whole). Falling prey to popular psychology, I would proclaim the narrative one man's self-therapy in the face of painful events that had a direct impact on his life.
However, the ending did strike me hard. A universal truth.
The events would neatly fall into a Disneyesque "happy ending", but the author doesn't allow things to be "simply happy". The claws of war cast a deep shadow, leaving the now-"peaceful" world in a nearly irreparable disarray.
To quote a striking quote:
"Like the mountain peaks around us, we looked at one another, separated by valleys, too high to stay unnoticed, too low to touch the heavens."
I cannot say I liked this book nor would I recommend it. I don't think anyone could read it all in a gulp. It took me one sickening sip at a time. There were several occasions when I would seriously consider slamming the book shut and sending it to hell. There were occasions when the paragraphs would seem to stretch in a morbid, loathsome parade - torture porn for torture porn's sake.
And yet, I am forced to respect it, for what it is. - A truth.
Not truth as it is, but one man's personal ugly truth about the ugly parts of human nature and the harrowing consequences of a war which left no one unscathed.
Although it's revolving around WWII, the "story" (a string of vile, revolting anecdotes, more like it) doesn't follow the war up close - no battlefields, no soldiers' everyday humdrum - in short, no Erich Maria Remarque.
Instead, we follow a nameless Polish boy, sent to the "safety" of the country's hinterland during the dangerous years. In a series of unfortunate events, he is forced to solo it from one village to the next, where he encounters the full spectrum of human cruelty and wickedness , including the reasons and motivation behind them(personal weakness, selfishness, vendetta...).
The "story" pretty much serves as an allegory for the evil implicit in Man and Humanity.
And this evil not being perpetuated by the Nazis or the Soviets (not in the main, at least), but by poor, uneducated Polish farmers instead - was the author's brilliant choice.
It is much more effective, and affective, when it comes from an unexpected angle, and not the usual notorious bunch of universally-acknowledged Bad Guys. Because not one group is morally corrupt in Kosinski's narrative - it's the human race - every individual, to some degree.
Usually, I stand by people reading WWII accounts - to have them as reminders not to allow ourselves to "fall for it" again, but... I don't think this particular book can serve that function. It simply makes the reader too angry to allow space for useful retrospection/introspection (it made me angry, and I'm quite chill on the whole). Falling prey to popular psychology, I would proclaim the narrative one man's self-therapy in the face of painful events that had a direct impact on his life.
However, the ending did strike me hard. A universal truth.
The events would neatly fall into a Disneyesque "happy ending"
Spoiler
(the surviving boy reuniting with his surviving parents)To quote a striking quote:
"Like the mountain peaks around us, we looked at one another, separated by valleys, too high to stay unnoticed, too low to touch the heavens."