A little more leg room to live

The thing with Night, by Elie Wiesel, is that the story is almost completely unrelatable.

While this concept might not be alien in a book, it is a tad strange to know that Wiesel's words are 100% true - and it's even more strange to look at those words and realize that they are, in fact, exactly that: the truth. Nevertheless, when a person picks up this book, one of the hardest things to do is to desensitize themselves to what is happening in those pages, and so we see that it is still one of the strongest elements that any story can have. In actuality, however, the truth is still the hardest part for me to wrap my head around.

Today in class we talked about acclimatizing. How the SS soldiers acclimatized to the brutality in their jobs, and how the jews acclimatized to life in the midst of death. I can't imagine how it was possible to acclimatize to starvation and exhaustion, yet thousands died trying. I can't imagine a place where one would willingly kill for another crust of bread; a place where one would sigh in relief to realise that your neighbour had died - just because it meant you had a little more leg room.

While it is nearly impossible to discern any underlying themes in a book so shadowed by its story, there is no denying the objects that Elie clings to for survival. His father and their relationship. Every break that the sun makes. There is nowhere for his thoughts to be but towards hope and survival - and what better motif is there than a way of living day to day? Because in a place like that, your soup becomes your lifeline. A piece of bread your only thoughts. Survival literally becomes your only instinct.

But on a lighter note, I'll save you from too much thought-fodder in that I'm likely changing my independant novel. I don't think I'm a fan of talking about hermaphroditism to the masses.

Have a good night and avoid those handicap spaces!
Rosy