Maus: A Survivor's Tale

[alicemacher]

There's pretty much nothing I can say, to summarize this work's artistic and commercial impact on sequential art, that others haven't said before, so on to the scans, all from Maus II: And Here My Troubles Began (Pantheon, 1991). Total of nine pages out of 130: two from Chapter 1, one from Chapter 2, six (out of 24 pages) from Chapter 3.

Trigger warning for scenes of Holocaust atrocities and for racist speech.



I've selected these scans in order to give a roughly balanced picture of the novel's main themes: Vladek Spiegelman's (and others') experiences as Untermenschen in Nazi-occupied Poland and Germany; Vladek's ingenuity (and luck) in surviving them; his compassion for other inmates; his starkly contrasting present-day guilt-tripping, miserly and sometimes bigoted behaviour; and his resulting strained relationship with his son Art.

The first scan picks up Vladek's story shortly after he arrived at Auschwitz in March, 1944 and was separated from his wife Anja.





A Polish kapo (prisoner appointed as camp functionary) learns that Vladek knows English, and conceals him in his private quarters for two months so Vladek can tutor him and thus give him an edge should the Allies liberate the camp. As a result, Vladek gets more food and a better-fitting uniform than other prisoners. Risking the kapo's anger, he talks him into letting him trade Mandelbaum's shoes for better-fitting ones, as well as a belt and spoon.





In 1979, when Vladek's second wife Mala (also a survivor) leaves him, he talks Art and his wife Françoise into helping him out at his summer bungalow in the Catskills.





On the way to the supermarket, Art makes the best of the situation and resumes interviewing his father, who recounts the evacuation of Auschwitz ten months later in anticipation of the Allied advance, and the prisoners' relocation to the Dachau camp in Germany.









The weeks pass in Dachau and Vladek, like many prisoners, nearly dies of typhus.





In 1979, Vladek astonishes Art and Françoise by successfully pestering the supermarket manager into letting him exchange his opened groceries. On the way back, Françoise picks up an African American hitch-hiker.





To avoid ending on that unfortunate note, here's a page from the previous chapter, in which Art, in 1987, visits his psychiatrist Pavel, a survivor of Terezin and Auschwitz. Art (metaphorically shrunken to the size of a child) talks about his writer's block and his mixed feelings of guilt, resentment and awe regarding his late father.

Comments

[shadowpsykie]

LOVE this book (these books). it really told a complex story. Vladek was not a bad person, but he did have his faults. the fact that he is a survivor of the holocaust does make one think that he of ALL people would be the LAST person to be racist. but it's not that simple. just because you are a victim of racism and prejudice does not mean you are excluded from BEING racist of prejudice.

Another thing is his idosyncratic behavior. the saving of tiny pieces of wire and stuff like that made me think of my dad. I used to make fun of (and sometimes still do, cuz he's mah dad:) when he go into the fridge take out what ever was there and essentially put a bunch of different lefr overs onto a plate (some things that would just make my stomach churn) heat it up and just eat it like that. But He grew up with 7 brothers and sisters, and one mother who had to support her family alone after her husband died. some times they didn't have much food. so they ate what they had.

Vladek collected things during the war, to use, to trade, to barter, it's how he survived. he would notice the little things others didn't.

this story is a really fascinating character study on both Vladek and Art himself

[icon_uk]

Good god, I always forget how powerful this story is (or maybe I try to block out the memory of it because it's quite so harrowing). Thanks for reminding me.

[miramira]

I really, really, really need to get around to reading this. Thanks for the nudge.

[bj_l]

I've only ever attempted to read this once, and it was at quite possibly the worst time in my life. I couldn't get into it, at all. Didn't find it powerful, or affecting. I couldn't even finish it. I was wondering if I was stupid, or lacked some kind of personal connection, but maybe I was just really fucked up at the time.

Either way, I can (now) definitely see the reason it's so well regarded, and affects so many people, but I still don't really feel anything from it or have much desire to read it.