Virtual Library

For over 25 years, Sarah Lichtsztejn-Montard has tirelessly recounted what she endured during the Second World War, especially to young people. How she and her mother escaped from the Vél’ d’Hiv’ on the first night after the round-up on July 16th, 1942, and how they were reported in May 1944, thrusting them into the maelstrom of Nazi torment: Drancy, the hell of Auschwitz-Birkenau and, finally, Bergen-Belsen, where they were liberated on April 15th, 1945. 

Sarah has put her experiences down on paper for those she cares about most, interspersing the account of her life as a wife and mother deeply marked by the Holocaust with the story of her shattered adolescence. This powerful book delivers a universal message of hope and courage.

Voilà plus de vingt-cinq ans que Sarah Montard raconte inlassablement, en particulier aux jeunes, ce qu'elle a vécu durant la Seconde Guerre Mondiale. Comment, avec sa mère, elle s'est évadée du Vél' d'Hiv au premier soir de la rafle, le 16 juillet 1942, comment une dénonciation les précipita en mai 1944 au coeur de la tourmente nazie: à Drancy, dans l'enfer d'Auschwitz-Birkenau puis au camp de Bergen-Belsen où elles seront libérées le 15 avril 1945. Livrant enfin aujourd'hui son témoignage écrit, Sarah a choisi de s'adresser tour à tour aux êtres chers à son coeur, entremêlant le récit de sa vie de femme et de mère profondément marquée par la Shoah, et celui de son adolescence brisée. Ce texte fort délivre un message de courage et d'espoir dont la portée est universelle.

Colonial Trauma is a path-breaking account of the psychosocial effects of colonial domination. Following the work of Frantz Fanon, Lazali draws on historical materials as well as her own clinical experience as a psychoanalyst to shed new light on the ways in which the history of colonization leaves its traces on contemporary postcolonial selves. Lazali found that many of her patients experienced difficulties that can only be explained as the effects of “colonial trauma” dating from the French colonization of Algeria and the postcolonial period. Many French feel weighed down by a colonial history that they are aware of but which they have not experienced directly. Many Algerians are traumatized by the way that the French colonial state imposed new names on people and the land, thereby severing the links with community, history, and genealogy and contributing to feelings of loss, abandonment, and injustice. Only by reconstructing this history and uncovering its consequences can we understand the impact of colonization and give individuals the tools to come to terms with their past. By demonstrating the power of psychoanalysis to illuminate the subjective dimension of colonial domination, this book will be of great interest to anyone concerned with the long-term consequences of colonization and its aftermath.

Ever since Nelson Mandela dramatically walked out of prison in 1990 after twenty-seven years behind bars, South Africa has been undergoing a radical transformation. In one of the most miraculous events of the century, the oppressive system of apartheid was dismantled. Repressive laws mandating separation of the races were thrown out. The country, which had been carved into a crazy quilt that reserved the most prosperous areas for whites and the most desolate and backward for blacks, was reunited. The dreaded and dangerous security force, which for years had systematically tortured, spied upon, and harassed people of color and their white supporters, was dismantled. But how could this country--one of spectacular beauty and promise--come to terms with its ugly past? How could its people, whom the oppressive white government had pitted against one another, live side by side as friends and neighbors? 

To begin the healing process, Nelson Mandela created the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, headed by the renowned cleric Archbishop Desmond Tutu. Established in 1995, the commission faced the awesome task of hearing the testimony of the victims of apartheid as well as the oppressors. Amnesty was granted to those who offered a full confession of any crimes associated with apartheid. Since the commission began its work, it has been the central player in a drama that has riveted the country. In this book, Antjie Krog, a South African journalist and poet who has covered the work of the commission, recounts the drama, the horrors, the wrenching personal stories of the victims and their families. Through the testimonies of victims of abuse and violence, from the appearance of Winnie Mandela to former South African president P. W. Botha's extraordinary courthouse press conference, this award-winning poet leads us on an amazing journey.

Country of My Skull captures the complexity of the Truth Commission's work. The narrative is often traumatic, vivid, and provocative. Krog's powerful prose lures the reader actively and inventively through a mosaic of insights, impressions, and secret themes. This compelling tale is Antjie Krog's profound literary account of the mending of a country that was in colossal need of change.

Ariel Dorfman's explosively provocative, award-winning drama is set in a country that has only recently returned to democracy. Gerardo Escobar has just been chosen to head the commission that will investigate the crimes of the old regime when his car breaks down and he is picked up by the humane doctor Roberto Miranda. But in the voice of this good Samaritan, Gerardo's wife, Paulina Salas, thinks she recognizes another man--the one who raped and tortured her as she lay blindfolded in a military detention center years before.

In 1988 Patrick Modiano stumbled across an ad between the stock market report and a story of a school visit to Marechal Petain in the personal columns of Paris Soir from December 31, 1941: "We are looking for a young girl, Dora Bruder, 15 years old, five feet tall, round face, gray-brown eyes, gray sportscoat, burgundy pullover, navy blue hat and skirt, brown athletic shoes. Send all information to Mr. and Mrs. Bruder, 41, Boulevard Ornano, Paris."
Placed by the parents of a 15-year-old Jewish girl who had run away from her convent school just before New Year's Eve, this ad set Modiano on a quest to find out everything he could about Dora Bruder and why she ran away from the Catholic boarding school that had been hiding her. He found only one other official mention of her name: on a list of Jews deported from Paris to Auschwitz in September 1942.
With no knowledge of Dora Bruder aside from these two records of disappearances, Modiano continued to dig for fragments from Dora's past. What little he found in official records or through remaining family members, Modiano transforms into a meditation on the immense losses of the period--lost people, lost stories, and lost history. As he tries to find connections to Dora, Modiano delivers a moving account of the ten-year investigation that took him back to the sights and sounds of Paris under the Occupation and the paranoia of the Petain regime. In his efforts to exhume her from the past, Modiano realizes that he must come to terms with the specters of his own troubled adolescence. The result is a montage of creative and historical material that unfolds as a moving rumination on loss

“This honest man, this good man, this man who never did wrong to anyone, who devoted his life to the public good, and who was one of the greatest writers in Algeria, has been murdered. . . . Not by accident, not by mistake, but called by his name and killed with preference.” So wrote Germaine Tillion in Le Monde shortly after Mouloud Feraoun’s assassination by a right wing French terrorist group, the Organisation Armée Secrète, just three days before the official cease-fire ended Algeria’s eight-year battle for independence from France. However, not even the gunmen of the OAS could prevent Feraoun’s journal from being published. Journal, 1955–1962 appeared posthumously in French in 1962 and remains the single most important account of everyday life in Algeria during decolonization. Feraoun was one of Algeria’s leading writers. He was a friend of Albert Camus, Emmanuel Roblès, Pierre Bourdieu, and other French and North African intellectuals. A committed teacher, he had dedicated his life to preparing Algeria’s youth for a better future. As a Muslim and Kabyle writer, his reflections on the war in Algeria afford penetrating insights into the nuances of Algerian nationalism, as well as into complex aspects of intellectual, colonial, and national identity. Feraoun’s Journal captures the heartbreak of a writer profoundly aware of the social and political turmoil of the time. This classic account, now available in English, should be read by anyone interested in the history of European colonialism and the tragedies of contemporary Algeria.

In La Disparition, the l’OuLiPo author, Georges Perec writes an entire novel without using the letter “e.” The constraint Perec sets himself is built off the equation whereby the disappearance of the letter “e” equals the disappearance of “eux [them],” referring to his parents who disappeared in Auschwitz. The novel in turn is dedicated to “eux.” La Disparition itself tells the story of Anton Voyl, a man who himself has disappeared and left behind him a trail of mysterious notes. 

«Cette femme aux pieds nus qui donne le titre à mon livre, c'est ma mère, Stefania. Lorsque nous étions enfants, au Rwanda, mes sœurs et moi, maman nous répétait souvent : "Quand je mourrai, surtout recouvrez mon corps avec mon pagne, personne ne doit voir le corps d'une mère." Ma mère a été assassinée, comme tous les Tutsi de Nyamata, en avril 1994 ; je n'ai pu recouvrir son corps, ses restes ont disparu. Ce livre est le linceul dont je n'ai pu parer ma mère. C'est aussi le bonheur déchirant de la faire revivre, elle qui, jusqu'au bout traquée, voulut nous sauver en déjouant pour nous la sanglante terreur du quotidien. C'est, au seuil de l'horrible génocide, son histoire, c'est notre histoire.»

A new translation from the French by Marion Wiesel. Night is Elie Wiesel's masterpiece, a candid, horrific, and deeply poignant autobiographical account of his survival as a teenager in the Nazi death camps.

This new translation by Marion Wiesel, Elie's wife and frequent translator, presents this seminal memoir in the language and spirit truest to the author's original intent. And in a substantive new preface, Elie reflects on the enduring importance of Night and his lifelong, passionate dedication to ensuring that the world never forgets man's capacity for inhumanity to man.

Night offers much more than a litany of the daily terrors, everyday perversions, and rampant sadism at Auschwitz and Buchenwald; it also eloquently addresses many of the philosophical as well as personal questions implicit in any serious consideration of what the Holocaust was, what it meant, and what its legacy is and will be.

De 1954 à 1962, plus d’un million et demi de jeunes Français sont partis faire leur service militaire en Algérie. Mais ils ont été plongés dans une guerre qui ne disait pas son nom. Depuis lors, les anciens d’Algérie sont réputés n’avoir pas parlé de leur expérience au sein de leur famille. Le silence continuerait à hanter ces hommes et leurs proches. En historienne, Raphaëlle Branche a voulu mettre cette vision à l’épreuve des décennies écoulées depuis le conflit. Fondé sur une vaste collecte de témoignages et sur des sources inédites, ce livre remonte d’abord à la guerre elle-même : ces jeunes ont-ils pu dire à leur famille ce qu’ils vivaient en Algérie ? Ce qui s’est noué alors, montre Raphaëlle Branche, conditionne largement ce qui sera transmis plus tard. Son enquête suit ensuite les métamorphoses des silences et des récits jusqu’à nos jours. Elle pointe l’importance des bouleversements qu’a connus la société française et leurs effets sur ce qui pouvait être dit, entendu et demandé dans les familles à propos de la guerre d’Algérie. Elle éclaire en particulier pourquoi, six décennies après la fin du conflit, beaucoup d’enfants ont toujours la conviction qu’existe chez leur père une zone sensible à ne pas toucher. Grâce à cette enquête, c’est plus largement la place de la guerre d’Algérie dans la société française qui se trouve éclairée : si des silences sont avérés, leurs causes sont moins personnelles que familiales, sociales et, ultimement, liées aux contextes historiques des dernières décennies. Avec le temps, elles se sont modifiées et de nouveaux récits sont devenus possibles.