I feel bad knocking this book because the story of Jan and Antonina Zabinski is one of two amazing people in Warsaw during the German occupation who demonstrated courage, brilliance, resilience, and humanity in the face of the grossest barbarism this planet has seen. Yet, Diane Ackerman has placed me in this position with her absurdly overblown writing, her precious turns of phrase, and her inability to establish a coherent timeline or storyline for what she's relating. I made note of more outstanding examples of her jarring images: "In a darkness that deep, fireflies dance across eyes that see into themselves." "Once its sprightly melody had been a favorite of hers, but war plays havoc with sensory memories as the sheer intensity of each moment, the roiling adrenaline and fast pulse, drive memories in deeper, embed every small detail, and make events unforgettable." "Meanwhile, the brain piped fugues of worry and staged mind-theaters full of tragedies and triumphs, because unfortunately, the fear of death does wonders to focus the mind, inspire creativity, and heighten the senses. Trusting one's hunches only seems a gamble if one has time for SEEM...." It seems Ms. Ackerman imagines herself to be the mistress of human senses and is writing beyond her material at hand. Too bad, because she had access to primary sources, to Antonina's extraordinary diary, which I wouldn't have minded reading without its being filtered through this author.
Nonetheless, the awful times in Poland and Warsaw come crashing through Ackerman's writing anyway. One wonders how any people at all survived German barbarity. The story of the Warsaw ghetto and its brave and tortured souls is vividly rendered, although not in a coherent fashion, as one has to dance from one chapter to the next to get a real sense of its nightmarish horror. The Zabinskis, particularly Jan, risked the lives of their son and daughter to harbor utterly wretched Jews ("Guests") in the labyrinthine zoo quarters. Bold young Polish Jews sabatoging the Germans would find a harbor there, even for short periods of time until they could be moved again to another safe harbor in the active Polish underground. It's a terrifying and remarkable story which made me think what I would have done in similar circumstances as a free person, knowing the crass injustices, blatant torture, and outright murder going on around me.
This book also tells of a mother's overpowering love for her son. At every turn, Antonina protected Rys as best she could, with varying degrees of success. We aren't sure of Rys's age, but I guess he was between 8 and 12 during the most awful events. Ackerman constantly returns to this mother/son relationship as a recurring theme, as it must have figured prominently in Antonina's diary.
I wished this story had been handled by another writer, but it hasn't been. It's still worth reading, as the events and tales of rescue and survival are so stirring that even bad prose can't detract from them. So I recommend this book, even if you cringe at the rhetorical nonsense it sometimes contains.