Shellshock
Reading about World War II — every time I read about it — makes me realize how we, as Americans, have lost our stomach for what war really is. I say this as a person who lost a friend in the current mess that is Iraq — he left a wife and four-month-old baby behind, for chrissake — so it’s not as though it’s something that should be easy to tolerate, or that the loss of any life is something we should be able to stomach.
Not that anyone is waiting with bated breath or anything, but I’m still reading Suite Francaise (along with books in-between), and it’s no longer a slog-fest — in fact, I quite love it, and recommend that everyone read it, if only because it makes you (well, me, anyway) think about war differently. As background, it was written by a Jew (who converted to Catholicism, by way of futile self-preservation, for she later died in Auschwitz) in France during World War II, and is perhaps the first fictional account of the events taking place, for it was written as it was happening.
(Morrigan, are you out there? I LIKE IT. WIN.)
There’s no denying that the greatest tragedy of WWII was the Holocaust. I’ve been to Dachau and it was … well, it was what you’d expect, times a thousand. There really aren’t words, so I won’t even try. Suite Francaise, ironically, illustrates the plight of the non-Jews, which is eye-opening in a different way, because, uh, Jesus, everyone paid a price in that war — some more than others, but it seems like everyone paid something, which isn’t necessarily true of our current conflicts. Many people pay — please, just ask the military spouses, who should be thanked as much as their husbands and wives who serve — but not necessarily EVERYONE.
This is the longest way ever of telling the story of the single most shocking conversation I’ve ever had, that is kind of related, but not, um, really at all. Welcome to my mind. But really! Most! Shocking! Ever! A few years ago, I met with a bunch of WWII veterans for a series I was doing around, uh, Veterans Day (there’s an original concept). It was, by and large, so fucking cool, and they were very obviously the Greatest Generation, just as Tom Brokaw promised. I’d never seen such an attitude of self-sacrifice and understanding that this world is so much bigger than we are — they may not have been the most sophisticated people I’ve ever met, but in many ways, they were much more worldly. It was an immense privilege I will truly never forget, and I am so thankful to have been able to experience some of the last members of that generation.
One of the men I met with was … well, honestly, he was incredible. A relatively high-ranking black Army officer in the 1940s — when there was little tolerance for African Americans at all, much less in a position of power — that was the least of his accomplishments, if you can believe it. The guy was a highly successful newspaper publisher, a hit songwriter (!), eventual presidential appointee and … oh MAN, it just went on and on and on. He did so many things, and did them so well, that I half expected my fact checking to come out that he’d made it all up, except of course, he hadn’t. I have, to this day, never met anyone else who has done so much with their life.
He was brilliant and kind and had lived this insane life full of loss (his first wife died in a fire while he was trying to rescue her, oh my LANDS) and love and … whoa, man, he was the coolest guy I’d ever met. I developed such an affection for him that I was deeply sorry when the piece was finished, because I just wanted more time with him. In total, I’d spent many days — weeks, even — talking to him, and he and his wife invited Adam and me to dinner on multiple occasions, and we just never got it together to do so.
And, in retrospect, THANK GOD WE DIDN’T.
During our very last conversation, when everything had been filed and finished, and I was merely tying up loose ends, he was talking about his ties to the music industry, and offhandedly mentioned the prevalence of Jews in entertainment. Which, you know, I guess is somewhat true, but I’d never really given it much thought beyond the occasional Ari Gold-led joke on Entourage. It is at this point that he — a man whose life, for a little while at least, had been DEFINED by discrimination, and was, um, a WORLD WAR II VETERAN — announced, “You know, I hate them .. the Jews.”
I’MSORRYWHATDIDYOUSAY?
(It is at this point that I would like to remind/inform those who don’t know that I am, a) an aspiring Jew, as Adam always teases me, for I am always UPSET that I wasn’t born Jewish and jealous that he was; b) married to a Jew; and c) have a very obviously Jewish last name, which apparently ESCAPED this man. For all of his purported hatred, I have to wonder if he could pick a Jewish name or person out of a line up)
I think I just stared, openmouthed.
“They are a hateful, awful, greedy people. I’ve never met a Jew — or a person who LIKES Jews, even — that I’ve liked. Ever.”
I mean, what the fuck, right? Oddly, he sure seemed to like me. And because I was WORKING and was supposed to be impartial, I just … I don’t know, you guys, I just SAT THERE, totally stunned and silent and stupid, and said nothing. On the one hand, I hate myself for staying silent. On the OTHER hand, my God, the guy was 88, and I highly doubt he was going to change his mind and plus, again, I was working and was a journalist and free speech and all that and … oh man. Besides, even if he did know, he’d decide that Adam and I were exceptions, not the rule.
Shocking, right? Or is it just me? I mean, what the EFF, right? WHO SAYS THAT, least of all someone who has VIVID, VAST PREJUDICIAL EXPERIENCE that he’d just spent the last several weeks DETAILING TO ME?
(Edited to add: This part was what surprised me so much. It wasn’t that people feel that way — I mean, I know they exist, and it wasn’t the first time that happened, sadly — it’s that someone who spent all this TIME saying how AWFUL prejudice was and how it had impacted his life so NEGATIVELY went forward and … well, DID THE SAME THING. I was FLOORED.)
Most! Shocking! Ever! I still can’t get over it. I can’t! I can’t! I was so disappointed — AM so disappointed, rather. I really, really liked him, and still think about him all the time. I often wonder if he’s still alive — he was, you know, 88, and while he was healthy as a horse, he smoked about two packs of Pall Malls a day. His wife was much younger — much younger than my parents, even, and maybe ten years older than my sister — and sometimes, I think about calling her to check, but I can’t bring myself to do it.
(Housekeeping note: The next Book Lushes book has been decided, and we’re now going on a regular monthly schedule from March 1 – April 1, so this book is MARCH’s book, if that makes sense. And it’s The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo. Win!)
(PS, I haven’t deleted the poll because I can’t figure out how to close it without deleting it. Am computer genius!)
(PPS, the book is on Amazon for pre-order! I mean, my anthology! Am total geek about seeing my name on Amazon, when all of these other regular authors are all, OH MY GOD GET OVER YOURSELF IT IS NOT A BIG DEAL. I bring this up ALSO because though I don’t mention it here for Google reasons, I don’t hide my last name, and since I mentioned it being obviously Jewish, I’d be curious if I were you, so now you know, if you didn’t already. If you don’t know which one I am, I’m Phillippa Ballantine. I KID.)
Happy Monday!
*New Order
67 comments February 21st, 2010