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6 of 7 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
caustic "Kid" illuminates 2G anguish over Holocaust identity, February 23, 2003
Sonia Pilcer's important, provocative and caustic "The Holocaust Kid" defies easy categorization. This novel is at once a profound contemplation of the Holocaust, a wickedly twisted view of the responsibilities and burdens of being a child of Holocaust survivors and a withering examination of the American Jewish sanctification of Holocaust memory and its attendant mandate of remembrance. Told through the beleaguered, angry and sarcastic voice of Zosha Palovsky, "The Holocaust Kid" provides important insights into the lives of children of survivors, the 2G generation. Zosha's emotional turmoil, her anger at being held hostage to a defining event she never experiences directly, but only derivatively, and her unflinching insistence on carving out her own identity give the novel its purchase.The Holocaust looms as the defining nature of Zosha's life. Her mother, the omnipresent and maddeningly oppressive Genia, and her father, laconic and intellectually inquisitive Heniek, provide their daughter with the foundation of Holocaust identity, which so informs Zosha's sensibility. Forever aware of her responsibility as a replacement for so much that was lost, she laments relinquishing her own needs and wants. She is warned that she "must never forget, not even for a moment. Because I lived when so many died." Yet, what is she to remember? Furtively cleaning her daughter's room, Genia discovers one of Zosha's essays. Zosha examines the Hebrew injunction to remember, zachor. Yet her daughter is confused as to what she is mandated to sanctify. "Remember what? Lives exitnguished?...Childhoods, entire countries and cultures lost?" Zosha recoils at the unfairness of this obligation and the impossible enormity of its requirements. Her father has "numbers," her mother "nightmares;" Zosha is left with their "fierce, anxious love." "Kid" scrapes against our preconceptions of being a child of survivors. When Nobel Laureate Elie Wiesel proclaims that their is a "privileged generation," that 2G children are the "justification" of their parents' will to survive the unspeakable, Pilcer bitterly questions those assumptions. If Zosha's life is so presumably sanctified by memory, why does remembrance bring discomfort and not peace? The daughter angrily denounces her parents' captivity by memory, their stubborn refusal to let loose and recreate a genuine new life in America. Her parents memories served only to increase pain. Their "tearful retelling of loss" reinforced their captivity to genocide. Zosha bristles with anger at her parents' double standards, their inconsistencies, phony rituals and use of Judaism as a sword raised to compel obedience. Even the Holocaust becomes but the ultimate parental means to subordinate Zosha. Rejecting their wish that she become "normal, like Daddy and me," Zosha sets sail to discover her own identity. Though competently chronicled, this quest loses its tautness due to the structure of the novel. "Kid" seems to be composed of disparate narrative episodes, and, indeed, many of the chapters have appeared in numerous journals during the past decade. Though not every novel needs to appear seamless, "Kid" suffers from abrupt, disjointed changes in time. This sole structural criticsm, however, should not dissuade readers from tackling this morbidly fascinating, intellectually provocative and psychologically revealing short novel. "The Holocaust Kid" succeeds on levels which few authors have even attempted to explore. It is an audacious, explosive and, in places, outrageous examination of the impact of the Holocaust on survivors and their children. Its voice is new, fresh and memorable.
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