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In 1943, Primo Levi, a 25-year-old chemist and "Italian citizen of Jewish race," was arrested by Italian fascists and deported from his native Turin to Auschwitz. This is Levi's classic account of his ten months in the German death camp, a harrowing story of systematic cruelty and miraculous endurance. Remarkable for its simplicity, restraint, compassion, and even wit, Survival in Auschwitz remains a lasting testament to the indestructibility of the human spirit. Included in this new edition is an illuminating conversation between Philip Roth and Primo Levi never before published in book form.--From publisher description.… (mer)
Mästerligt och gripande. Trots att vi idag vet vad som hände är denna ögonvittnes skildring en skakande upplevelse. Det går inte att ta in detta mänskliga lidande och den ondska som finns i världen. Det värsta är ju att vi inte lär oss av historien. Det upprepas ju hela tiden även om det inte är i den omfattning som skedde under andra världskriget. Sättet att skriva med en objektivt betraktande blick utan känsloladdade hämndbeskrivningar gör boken till ett mästerverk. Liknar mycket Kertesz Mannen utan öde. Läs! ( )
Information från den italienska sidan med allmänna fakta.Redigera om du vill anpassa till ditt språk.
Voi che vivete sicuri Nelle vostre tiepide case, Voi che trovate tornando a sera Il cibo caldo e visi amici: Considerate se questo è un uomo Che lavora nel fango Che non conosce pace Che lotta per mezzo pane Che muore per un sì o per un no. Considerate se questa è una donna, Senza capelli e senza nome Senza più forza di ricordare Vuoti gli occhi e freddo il grembo Come una rana d'inverno. Meditate che questo è stato: Vi comando queste parole. Scolpitele nel vostro cuore Stando in casa andando per via, Coricandovi alzandovi; Ripetetele ai vostri figli. O vi si sfaccia la casa, La malattia vi impedisca, I vostri nati torcano il viso da voi.
Dedikation
Inledande ord
Information från den engelska sidan med allmänna fakta.Redigera om du vill anpassa till ditt språk.
I was captured by the Fascist Militia on 13 December 1943.
Citat
Information från den engelska sidan med allmänna fakta.Redigera om du vill anpassa till ditt språk.
It seems to me unnecessary to add that none of the facts are invented.
Thus, in an instant, our women, our parents, our children disappeared. We saw them for a short while as an obscure mass at the end of the platform; then we saw nothing more.
We are slaves, deprived of every right, exposed to every insult, condemned to certain death, but we still possess one power, and we must defend it with all our strength for it is the last—the power to refuse our consent.
It is a Polish sun, cold, white and distant, and only warms the skin, but when it dissolved the last mists a murmur ran through our colourless numbers, and when even I felt its lukewarmth through my clothes, I understood how men can worship the sun.
Within its bounds not a blade of grass grows, and the soil is impregnated with the poisonous saps of coal and petroleum, and the only things alive are machines and slaves—and the former are more than the latter.
We are always happy to wait; we are capable of waiting for hours with the complete obtuse inertia of spiders in old webs.
I believe that it was really due to Lorenzo that I am alive today; and not so much for his material aid, as for his having constantly reminded me by his presence, by his natural and plain manner of being good, that there still existed a just world outside our own, something and someone still pure and whole, not corrupt, not savage, extraneous to hatred and terror; something difficult to define, a remote possibility of good, but for which it was worth surviving.
If the Lagers had lasted longer, a new, harsh language would have been born; and only this language could express what it means to toil the whole day in the wind, with the temperature below freezing, wearing only a shirt, underpants, cloth jacket and trousers, and in one's body nothing but weakness, hunger and knowledge of the end drawing nearer.
We loaded ourselves with a bottle of vodka, various medicines, newspapers and magazines and four first-rate eiderdowns, one of which odd today house in Turin.
Liberty. The breach in the barbed wire gave us a concrete image of it. To Antoine stopped to think, it signified no more Germans, no more selections, no work, no blows, no roll-calls, and perhaps, later, the return.
They organized an expedition to the English prisoner-of-war camp, which was assumed had been evacuated. It proved a fruitful expedition. They returned dressed in khaki with a cart full of wonders never seen before: margarine, custard powders, lard, soya-bean flour, whiskey. That evening there was singing in hut 14.
We all said to each other that the Russians would arrive soon, at once; we all proclaimed it, we were all sure of it. Because one loses the habit of hoping in the Lager, and even of believing in one's own reason. In the Lager, it is useless to think, because events happen for the most part in an unforseeable manner; and it is harmful, because it keeps alive a sensitivity which is a source of pain, and which some providential natural law dulls when suffering passes a certain limit.
A movement of a finger could cause the destruction of the entire camp, could annihilate thousands of men; while the sum total of all our efforts and exertions would not be sufficient to prolong by one minute the life of even one of us.
However, I am fully aware that after the camp my work, or rather my two kinds of work (chemistry and writing) , did play, and still play, an essential role in my life. I am persuaded that normal human beings are biologically built for an activity that is aimed toward a goal and that idleness, or aimless work (like Auschwitz's Arbeit), gives rise to suffering and to atrophy.
Levi: A friend of mine, an excellent doctor, told me many years ago: “Your remembrances of before and after are in black and white; those of Auschwitz and of your travel home are in Technicolor.” He was right. Family, home, factory are good things in themselves; but they deprived me of something that I still miss: adventure.
Avslutande ord
Information från den engelska sidan med allmänna fakta.Redigera om du vill anpassa till ditt språk.
In April, at Katowice, I met Schenck and Alcalai in good health. Arthur has reached his family happily and Charles has taken up his teacher's profession again; we have exchanged long letters and I hope to see him again one day.
In 1943, Primo Levi, a 25-year-old chemist and "Italian citizen of Jewish race," was arrested by Italian fascists and deported from his native Turin to Auschwitz. This is Levi's classic account of his ten months in the German death camp, a harrowing story of systematic cruelty and miraculous endurance. Remarkable for its simplicity, restraint, compassion, and even wit, Survival in Auschwitz remains a lasting testament to the indestructibility of the human spirit. Included in this new edition is an illuminating conversation between Philip Roth and Primo Levi never before published in book form.--From publisher description.
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