I begin this month by highlighting some annotations of the current novel resting in my hands and rinsing my eyes allowing personal clarity again. The novel is titled The Book Thief, written by Markus Zusak and published by A.A. Knopf in 2005. The setting of this story begins in 1939 in Nazi Germany. As stated in my copy on the inside cover: It is 1939. Nazi Germany. The country is holding its breath. Death has never been busier, and will become busier still. A young girl Leisel Meminger, her life upended with the sudden death of her younger brother, finds herself left with a foster father and mother who hide a Jewish man in their basement, Leisel’s life is both opened up and closed down.
At first blush the identity of the narrator is opaque. But there are clues such as the following found on page 23. For two days, I went about my business. I traveled the globe as always, handing souls to the conveyor belt of eternity. I looked for more quick clues about who the narrator Markus Zusak called upon to lead us through his novel. On the back cover the answer is given. When Death has a story to tell, you listen.
On page 307 of The Book Thief, a new chapter is titled Death’s Diary: 1942. The main character, Leisel Meminger, becomes thirteen years of age. The narrator, having paused to complain about having to work so hard because of Stalin, murdering his own people and of course Hitler and his wake of murderous genocide, takes a moment to summarize. On page 308 I quote:
***AN ABRIDGED ROLL CALL FOR 1942***
1.The desperate Jews- Their spirits in my lap as we sat on the roof next to the steaming chimneys.
2.The Russian soldiers-taking only small amounts of ammunition, relying on the fallen for the rest of it.
3.The soaked bodies of a French coast- beached on the shingle and the sand.
Death goes on, So many humans.
Death ends the chapter with this: Often , I try to remember the strewn pieces of beauty I saw in that time as well. I plow through my library of stories.
In fact I reach for one now.
I believe you know half of it already, and if you come with me , I’ll show you the rest. I’ll show you the second half of a book thief, (pages 309 & 310).
Here I am at the end of December and I have to confess I am not finished reading Zuzak’s The Book Thief. I received another book from a family member and I have been reading that book this month too.
If you have followed my blog over the years you will have encountered my memoir, One Grew up in the Cuckoo’s Nest. Suffice it to mention and without doing a deep dive here again, I was born and raised by my parents on the grounds of two state hospitals focused on mental health. First in Danvers and then in Medfield Massachusetts from the 1950’s through the 1960’s when my adult feathers allowed me to fly out of that nest. One of my daughter-in-laws was kind enough to send me Antonia Hylton’s, historical archive summarized in her story titled MADNESS. As stated on the cover this is a story of Race and Insanity in a Jim Crow Asylum. The hospital’s name is Crownsville State Hospital Formally Maryland’s Hospital for the Negro Insane.
I profess that I am half way through Hylton’s MADNESS. I marvel at the book lovers I listen to on social media listing their top 100 books of the year or their 70 novels read. My goal is to read one book each month. This month I put on my reading sneakers in an attempt to read two books! In any case I thank the heavens for the energy of reincarnation as that is the only way I can ever achieve my goal of reading every book ever written yesterday, today and tomorrow!
Back to MADNESS. On page 97, Hylton summarizes the local population’s fearful racist attitude as follows: Often, the media emphasized stories of escapes and riots at Crownsville, and subtle differences in word choice suggested that while residents may have expected the institution to manage aggressive Black residents, they anticipated the rehabilitation of white patients.
By the late 1940s, stories about violent escapes, aggressive Black men, and the anxieties of white residents were becoming routine. The press started advancing a narrative: Black patients at Crownsville, often painted as uniquely violent and disgusting, were to remain under increased supervision. Even as white patients deserved sympathy and the benefits of rehabilitation.
My singular point of view of the segregation I encountered at Danvers and Medfield was focused on fear of the mentally impaired patient’s unanticipated actions. Examples I personally witnessed were a TV being thrown at me with unbelievable force. Overhearing my father tell my mother that a patient working detail on the farm had suddenly impaled another patient with a pitch fork. Hearing the commotion of our down stair neighbors who were shocked when a patient suddenly crashed through their living room window. He had escaped from a locked ward and thought he was off state grounds only to discover he had broken into a doctor’s home with the Head Farmer living upstairs. Locked wards, locked seclusion rooms, chemical restraints, straight jackets, lobotomies and other practices, I felt, were not part of rehab. Yes there were new psychotropic drugs, electro-shock therapy and rehab too. To be honest, the fear I noticed was not caused by a patient’s skin color but the fear and prejudice I noticed came into focus on insanity in general. But remember, I was a naive teenager entering an adult world. I was about to become aware of our racist collections of violence during my university years. Violence and fear our nation was and unfortunately still is capable of hosting.
As I visit my metaphorical lighthouse, I notice our white Christmas snow has taken a vacation and left for a few days. The ocean though, is riled, and the incoming tide portends of the icy stormy snowy winter about to move back into our neighborhood. I hope the snow doesn’t just cover up the anger and fear still too present in our world today. I pray the snows cleanse us of that negativity and allow our collective empathy and love to blossom as an aid to our neighbors in need. The characters in the two books before me demonstrate grace, courage and integrity while living in a fearful hateful time in Germany during the 1940’s, and living in a Jim Crow Asylum in the 1900’s. So inspirational! The coming new year promises to open our eyes! In a good way!
Thank you for reading.
Be in peace and joy!
Mark