Gazing At the Stars

I will keep this post short, sharp and shiny. It is the powerful memoir of Eva Slonim, a holocaust survivor who was a child of eleven when she was taken to the death camp at Auschwitz. I really don't mind which of the holocaust novels you read but you MUST read one!
I teared up more than once during this 'uncorrected proof' edition due to its raw yet intricately detailed recount of the inhumane and insane treatment of the Jews during WWII. My teenage son quipped whilst walking past me, 'Yeah, and it wasn't that long ago.' Everyone needs to know about the holocaust; no excuses.

   'My name is Shmuel,' he cried. 'I am nine years old and my time has come. Promise me that you will say kaddish for me. Remember this day, this date. Remember my name. My name is Shmuel!'
   I felt a cold wave of panic pass through my spine. I did not know what the date was, nor the day. I would forget Shmuel, his memory, his suffering, his eyes, his life, lost and anonymous among the bodies piled in that room by the hospital.
   I looked down and saw the numbers tattooed on my arm: A27201. The number transfixed me, startled me with the starkness of its sudden permanence. 'A27201,' I said, 'this will be your kaddish.'
   Shmuel was content, relieved that his God and his people would not forget him. He walked towards the exit of the barracks. (pp.118-9)

Due for release May 2014.

Miss ^__^

The Ink Bridge

 I found this book to be a heavy but necessary read.
In this current political climate of demonising asylum seekers I am heartened that The Truth on the issue can be found if you are really searching for it. This is one text that sets the truth to right without hyperbole. In fact, author Neil Grant even vocalises common myths such as, "You just don't know what they're hiding behind those burqas. I heard they use them for terrorist attacks back home,'(p.149) I feel this is a risk  given that a skim reader might walk away from the novel wrongly believing it validates perverse unsubstantiated popular opinion.

When the moon began its climb over the stone niches where the Buddhas once stood, Omed and Wasim crept out of their bunker, throwing long shadows against the cracked walls. There were only rats and dogs on the streets; no one felt safe when the Taliban were out for revenge. If they didn't find the right man, any would do.
... Omed knew it was too dangerous for his brother to go any further with him. He pulled him by the sleeve and shook his head. Wasim's eyes filled with tears. 'It is not fair, Omed. I am small without you. What can I do against the Talib? I cannot protect our family.'
Omed spun him around and pushed him in the small of his back. Wasim shouted after Omed as he ran. 'I hate you, Omed. It is all your fault! Do you hear that, I HATE you!'
But as Wasim's voice faded he heard a last desperate sob, 'I love you, my brother. Don't leave us.'
(p.15)


The protagonist, Omed, can't reply to his brother; his tongue has been cut off by the Talib. This young adolescent escapes Afghanistan fearing for his life, leaving behind all that is familiar to him. With some American currency his widowed mother has stashed away for a time such as this, Omed decides to head for Australia given he has heard good reports about Australia's treatment of asylum seekers. Ultimately he hopes to be a free man in this alleged 'welcoming' country. As the story transpires he discovers what really happens behind the razor wire in one of Australia's detention centres.

The Children's Book Council of Australia awarded honours to this novel in 2013. It is well worth the read.

Miss ^__^