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The Balkan comics anthology š! from kuš! is one of the more challenging delights of the comics world, grafting the sensibility of a contemporary art gallery onto the comics page. It regularly presents challenging and edgy work, often abstract, but with enough show of personality that you can see these are the works of real humans, and it comes in a striking mini-digest format that evokes Little Big Books, adding to its appeal as an object to display.

The Armenian genocide and the Holocaust took place decades ago, but the novelist William Faulkner was right when he said that “the past is never dead. It’s not even past.” It had been hoped that “Never again!” might be more than a slogan, but in April 1994, the Rwandan genocide began and was soon in full cry.

The post An ‘in-spite-of’ joy appeared first on OUPblog.

For the month of September, we will continue to explore the topic of Refugees in children’s books. Today I would like to share a book I recently came across on the topic: Tropical Secrets: Holocaust Refugees in Cuba by Cuban-American poet Magarita Engle (Henry Holt & Co, 2009). This is the author’s third novel in verse about Cuba (the previous two were the award-winning The Poet Slave of Cuba and The Surrender Tree), and this time her story takes place during WWII, when when the rise of Nazism led to a severe rise in refugees from Germany trying to find safety in other parts of the world.

A historical note at the end (and readers may want to consider reading it before getting started), helps contextualize the story, which is told, mostly, in the alternating voices of Daniel, a 13 year-old German Jewish who escapes Germany in 1939 after being separated from his parents, and whose ship is finally allowed entry in Cuba after being turned away from the U.S. and Canada; and Paloma, a 12 year-old girl who, unbeknownst to her father, is helping refugees. We also get to “hear” accounts of the refugees situation by two adults: El Gordo, Paloma’s father, who is making money by selling entry permits to refugees; and David, a former refugee who, along with others, such as young Paloma, helps shelter and feed the recently arrived refugees.

It seems Cuba is no safe haven, though, as the same boats that bring those “searching for something as simple as hope”, are also bringing Nazi agents, whose mission is to stir up anti-Semitism in the island.

The story of Tropical Secrets is mainly Daniel’s, who never loses hope of one day being reunited with his parents (as far as he knows, they are looking for him in New York, where his boat was supposed to have gone). However, the layering of the four distinct voices and perspectives, paint a much more detailed portrait of this painful and little-known chapter of Cuba’s history. It also helps us realize how dependent on the good will of others refugees’ lives are, and reminds us—because we still need to be reminded— that history leaves traces on how we live in the present.

The author says, at the end: “Even though I didn’t follow the faiths of either of my parents, I hope I have taught my children to be the kind of people who will help refugess of any faith in times of need.”… Wonderful words to ponder over as we close the book and travel with our thoughts, looking for ways to help those who have come to our country looking for hope and a safe harbor.

Michael Morpurgo is one of the greats in contemporary British children’s literature - he is a master craftsman of storytelling who weaves fiction into such convincing historical contexts that you have to pinch yourself to remember the characters came out of his imagination

Two of his recent stories for older children have a wartime setting: but both stories also have roots in the present and a new generation, which bring a perspective of hope and renewal to counterbalance the feelings of despair engendered by these examples of the futility and madness of war. The Best Christmas Present in the World (Egmont, 2004) centres around a letter from Jim Macpherson, an English officer in the First World War, which relates the extraordinary events of the momentary truce and famous football game between the British and the Germans on Christmas Day, 1914. Many years later, at Christmas time, the letter is found in an old, second-hand desk by the narrator. It is marked as “Jim’s last letter, received 25th January 1915. To be buried with me when the time comes.” And so our narrator sets out to find “Dearest Connie” - and gives her the best Christmas present in the world…

Meanwhile, The Mozart Question (Walker Books, 2008) is the story of a world-famous violinist, Paolo Levi, whose parents’ lives were saved in the Second World War through playing the violin in an orchestra at a Nazi concentration camp. Lesley, the story’s narrator, is a young journalist who is sent to Venice to interview Paolo. She pointedly does not ask him the forbidden Mozart question - but the time is right for him to talk about it. He tells her about how he secretly began to play the violin, not realising that there were secrets he did not know about his parents’ past; and how eventually his playing “made music joyful” for his father once more.

Reading these books aloud to older children prompts a lot of questions and discussion. As Morpurgo says in his Author’s Note at the end of The Mozart Question:

It is difficult for us to imagine how dreadful was the suffering that went on in the Nazi concentration camps during the Second World War [...] It is when you hear the stories of the individuals who lived through it - Anne Frank, Primo Levi - that you begin to understand the horror just a little better…

By presenting these individual, albeit fictional accounts, Morpurgo is helping to ensure that the facts continue to be put before a new generation, that they may learn from them - and, dare I say it, he does so in a way that will probably have much more impact than a history lesson. His prose begs to be read aloud; and both books also have the distinct advantage of being illustrated by Michael Foreman - Morpurgo and Foreman really do make a wonderful team! And when they’ve listened to the stories and talked about them, children will want to go away and read them quietly on their own - again and again.

You can find other reviews of The Mozart Question on 100 Scope Notes, Shelf-Employed and Achukareviews; and one I could really empathise with at Findlay Library Kids.

Bruno, in The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, is one of the more problematic fictional characters whom I’ve found within the pages of a book. While Corinne said in her comments that she thinks his character is realistic, since he is a nine-year-old boy who has led a sheltered life, has an overbearing older sister, and lives in a time when there was no television or internet, I found his inability to understand his own language, as shown by his persistent usage of The Fury for the Fuhrer and Outwith for Auschwitz, to be unconvincing, contrived, and essentially unnecessary. However, it’s certainly true that without television and other mass media we could all be as uninformed and as naive as Bruno and that sometimes a character is more an instrument to advance a story’s plot than a breathing, convincing entity.

And Bruno certainly does advance the plot of this story. It’s a page-turner. As Corinne says, ” Once I started it, there was no way I could put it down until I had finished it.” I gulped it down as well and was relieved to know that this is the way the author intends for the book to be read.

Bruno’s simplified way of looking at the world around him makes this a good introduction to the Holocaust for children who know little about this time in history, and could work well in a classroom setting where there would be immediate answers to the questions that arise.

As an adult, I was annoyed by “red herring” portions of the book that were brought up and then never fully explored. Lieutenant Kotler is grilled by Bruno’s father over dinner one evening about the reason for Kotler’s father leaving Germany in 1938. Is Kotler’s father a Jew? A dissident? Who knows? It is never explained and left me wondering why the scene took place. It doesn’t seem to play a part in Kotler’s subsequent disappearance, which Corinne attributes to Kotler’s closeness to Bruno’s mother.

The shocking ending of this book comes so closely after Bruno’s betrayal of Shmuel and Shmuel’s subsequent punishment for stealing food that it could be wondered if Shmuel had intended for Bruno to stay behind the fence forever. Although Bruno is sheltered and naive, Shmuel understands the differences between the two boys, especially after living in the camp for a year. Corinne, on the other hand, says “Yes - I think Shmuel intended for Bruno to return home. I don’t think either boy had any idea what would happen or the risks they were taking when Bruno crawled under the fence.”

This is a book that bears discussion and I hope that it will be chosen for book groups, classrooms, and family read-alouds for years to come.
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Former Republican Congressman, founding trustee of the Heritage Foundation, and national chairman of the American Conservative Union, Mickey Edwards is the author of Reclaiming Conservatism: How A Great American Political Movement Got Lost- and How It Can Find Its Way Back. In the post below Edwards refutes the claim that John McCain is not a real conservative.   Read more posts by Edwards here.

(Please note: I know Romney well, having worked in his gubernatorial campaign and later joining him frequently at Republican fundraising events in Massachusetts. I know McCain, too, having served with him in Congress. I have not, however, endorsed any candidate in this year’s presidential primaries.)

With Mitt Romney out of the race for President, the narrow circle of self-designated “spokesmen” for conservatism will find themselves growing ever more frantic in their desperate search for a candidate who can somehow stop John McCain’s march to the Republican presidential nomination. Mr. McCain’s apostasy, they contend, is that he is not a conservative and, in the words of Mr. Romney, “outside the Republican mainstream.” (more…)

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