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This isn't really a diary. It is in the sense that it has dated entries, but Katznelson rarely writes about current events. Instead his book is one long cry of grief and anger, mourning his wife Chanah and two sons, 14-year-old Ben Zion and 11-year-old Binyomin (all sent to Treblinka), and by extension all the Jews of Europe. It was difficult for me to read, not because of the subject matter but because it was very repetitive. Katznelson could think of nothing but his loss -- and who can blame him? He and his surviving son Zvi (whom he barely mentions) were interned under relatively good conditions at Vittel, registered as foreign citizens, at the time of the writing. They were supposed to be exchanged for Germans living abroad. But Katznelson had a feeling he would not survive -- and he was right.
Katznelson was a poet and dramatist and it shows in his diary. Many phrases were beautiful in their tragedy: "If perchance I shed a tear, then Chanah, Ben Zion and Binyamin are within it, in minature. They, together with the whole of my people, are reflected in its brightness... Do not seek them out in Treblinka, nor in other mounds of earth, for you will find no trace of them. You must look for them in my tiny tear..."
(A curiosity: the translator used the Russian form of Adam Czerniakow's name, spelling it "Tserniakov." I have never seen it spelled that way and don't know if it was a mistake on the translator's part or whether Katznelson actually used that spelling.)
I think I would only recommend this book to serious Holocaust readers. While beautifully written as I said, it has nothing to offer the average person and most people would find it far too depressing to finish. I had a hard time with it and I thought I was immune to that sort of thing. ( )
[Mon fils Zvi et moi-même1] sommes désormais à Vittel… Nous sommes arrivés avec un petit groupe de Juifs, tous ressortissants de divers pays d'Amérique du Nord ou du Sud, Zvi et moi-même en tant que citoyens du Honduras. [...]
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If perchance I shed a tear, then Chanah, Ben Zion and Binyamin are within it, in minature. They, together with the whole of my people, are reflected in its brightness... Do not seek them out in Treblinka, nor in other mounds of earth, for you will find no trace of them. You must look for them in my tiny tear...
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Katznelson was a poet and dramatist and it shows in his diary. Many phrases were beautiful in their tragedy: "If perchance I shed a tear, then Chanah, Ben Zion and Binyamin are within it, in minature. They, together with the whole of my people, are reflected in its brightness... Do not seek them out in Treblinka, nor in other mounds of earth, for you will find no trace of them. You must look for them in my tiny tear..."
(A curiosity: the translator used the Russian form of Adam Czerniakow's name, spelling it "Tserniakov." I have never seen it spelled that way and don't know if it was a mistake on the translator's part or whether Katznelson actually used that spelling.)
I think I would only recommend this book to serious Holocaust readers. While beautifully written as I said, it has nothing to offer the average person and most people would find it far too depressing to finish. I had a hard time with it and I thought I was immune to that sort of thing. (