March 29, 1998 |
Elie Wiesel
University Professor and
Andrew W. Mellon Professor in the Humanities
Boston University
745 Commonwealth Avenue
Boston, Massachusetts 02215
USA
Dear Mr. Wiesel:
Journalist Boaz Evron has observed that
Two terrible things happened to the Jewish people during this century: [First, t]he Holocaust and the lessons drawn from it. [Second, t]he non-historical and easily refutable commentaries on the Holocaust made either deliberately or through simple ignorance and their use for propaganda purposes among non-Jews or Jews both in Israel and the diaspora constitute a cancer for Jews and for the State of Israel. (Boaz Evron, Holocaust, a Danger for the Jewish People, published in the Hebrew journal Yiton 77, May-June 1980)
I would like to address a request to you concerning two of the individuals who have spread, or are still spreading, the cancer of "non-historical and easily refutable commentaries on the Holocaust made either deliberately or through simple ignorance" — the two individuals being Jerzy Kosinski and Simon Wiesenthal.
"Written with deep sincerity and sensitivity, this poignant account transcends confession," Elie Wiesel wrote in the Times Book Review. At the time of Kosinski's suicide, in 1991, Wiesel said, "I thought it was fiction, and when he told me it was autobiography I tore up my review and wrote one a thousand times better." Wiesel's review sanctified the work as a valid testament of the Holocaust, more horrible, more revealing — in a sense, truer — than the literature that came out of the camps. Other writers and critics agreed. Harry Overstreet wrote that "The Painted Bird" would "stand by the side of Anne Frank's unforgettable 'Diary'" as "a powerfully poignant human document," while Peter Prescott, also comparing it to Anne Frank's "Diary," called the book "a testament not only to the atrocities of the war, but to the failings of human nature." The novelist James Leo Herlihy saluted it as "brilliant testimony to mankind's survival power." "Account," "confession," "testament," "document," "testimony": these were the key words in the book's critical reception. What made "The Painted Bird" such an important book was its overpowering authenticity. Perhaps it wasn't exactly a diary — six-year-olds don't keep diaries — but it was the next best thing. And in one respect it was better: Kosinski was Anne Frank as a survivor, walking among us. (Sloan, 1994, pp. 46-47) |
Siedlecka portrays the elder Kosinski [father of Jerzy] not just as a wily survivor but as a man without scruples. She maintains that he may have collaborated with the Germans during the war and very likely did collaborate with the N.K.V.D., after the liberation of Dabrowa by the Red Army, in sending to Siberia for minor infractions, such as hoarding, some of the very peasants who saved his family. Her real scorn, however, is reserved for the son [Jerzy], who turned his back on the family's saviors and vilified them, along with the entire Polish nation, in the eyes of the world. Indeed, the heart of Siedlecka's revelations is her depiction of the young Jerzy Kosinski spending the war years eating sausages and drinking cocoa — goods unavailable to the neighbors' children — in the safety of his house and yard.... (Sloan, 1994, p. 48) |
I never felt the need to become a Nazi-hunter. Though I respect those who did, like the Klarsfelds in Paris and Neal Sher in Washington, my obsession was quite different. (Elie Wiesel, Memoirs: All Rivers Run to the Sea, Alfred A. Knopf, Toronto, English translation 1995, p. 88) |