10 of 10 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
The reality of being a romany person in the Czech Republic., October 20, 1999
By A Customer
This review is from: Living Through It Twice: Poems Of The Romany Holocaust (Hardcover)
I have lived in the Czech Republic for several years: however, it is still very hard to understand what it really means to be a gypsy here.
Paul Polansky's poems bring alive both the horror of the Lety camp (which he was responsible for exposing to the world) and the reality of life for romany people in modern Czech society.
Help other customers find the most helpful reviews
Was this review helpful to you? Yes
No
9 of 9 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
power, November 21, 2003
This review is from: Living Through It Twice: Poems Of The Romany Holocaust (Hardcover)
If you don't know about this subject, look into this powerful book. If you do know something about it, this book will add a human quality that is unforgetable
Help other customers find the most helpful reviews
Was this review helpful to you? Yes
No
2 of 2 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Blood, bones and truth, March 16, 2005
This review is from: Living Through It Twice: Poems Of The Romany Holocaust (Hardcover)
These spare poems bring home the reality of two times like 6 millimeter bullets hitting a bull's eye.
The 39 poems open in the recent past, the 1990s and range back and forth across time, from President Havel's reign, during which more than 2,000 Rom "have been attacked/ by Czech skinheads," to World War II. (The contents are in the back, so the book reads like a story, unfolding without a predetermined path.)
As the poet sits in a Prague cafe, a Gypsy boy approaches. "A policeman on the corner nods" and two skinheads chase the boy to the river like wild, mad dogs, "their/ brains turned into froth." Yet Havel, after visiting Auschwitz, tells the radio audience "he still doesn't/ understand how the Holocaust/ could have happened in Europe."
As for the past, the pain is staggering. In Lety by Pisek, a Czech guard held "children's heads/ in a pail of water/ until the died." The bigger ones, he drowned "in the rain barrels or in the lake." In the cold of winter, he locked small children outside the barracks, naked. When they howled like wolves, the mothers lost their minds.
Further on, a mother laments, she escaped Hitler's youth gangs by escaping to Prague, but was interned in Lety, where she survived starvation,/ shootings,/ lethal injections,/ work gangs,/ beatings,/ rapes,/ typhus,/ and drownings/ in the rain barrel." She married a white man to save her eight children her fate. One son inherited her dark Gypsy skin. Now, he's recovering from two operations "after the skinheads/ impaled him on a metal pole." She doesn't "know if I'm living/ in 1939 or 1995." She thought she had survived, but realizes she has "only been/ staggering around in circles."
Read these poems, and one gets a glimpse of the truth, blood, bones, and all.
--Alyssa A. Lappen
Help other customers find the most helpful reviews
Was this review helpful to you? Yes
No