Абсолютно задължителна.

Levi’s book is a testimony of his year at the Buna Arbeitslager, part of the Auschwitz network of slave labor and extermination camps. The first words of his preface “I was fortunate to be confined to Auschwitz” set the stage for him to yes, tell us the horrifying, dehumanizing treatment he suffered at the hands of the Germans and Poles that ran the camp, but also his continuous effort to keep the spark of his personality and soul alive under those circumstances. He can’t make the “glass half full” but he does give us enough drops to let us consume a story that we need to know. To survive we must want to survive, as Steinlauf tells him early in his internment, and Levi tells us all the ways he remained engaged in the struggle to survive, and avoided becoming one who surrendered. Heartbreaking, important, significant.

Behind the barely-closed eyelids, dreams break out violently, the usual dreams. To be at home, in a wonderfully hot bath. To be at home, seated at a table. To be at home, and tell the story of this hopeless work of ours, of this never-ending hunger, of this slave's way of sleeping.

Excellent audiobook. This is a book that is impossible to rate or review, a deeply personal account written in almost-scientific prose. I have written and deleted so many thoughts already that I think I will have to let the above quote stand. To be at home, seated at a table. How often we take the small things for granted.

Стигаш до края и наистина не знаеш какво да кажеш...

The Truce explains in detail how just walking out of Buna / Monowitz means little. Almost equally bad is yet to come and "home" seems so distant and impossible to reach.

If This Is a Man is an account of Levi's 20 months in the camp.

It's hard to rate a book about the darkest times of humankind.

I can't help, however, how I felt throughout most of the book. I feel like Art Spiegelman's Maus and Elie Wiesel's The Night were better works of literature on the topic of horrors of the German concentration camps.

Primo Levi's first-hand account of the horrors of Auschwitz in 1944 and then the story of his return to Italy in 1945 are absolutely essential reading. The writing is beautiful and also brutal. I feel this is the gold standard for all memoirs about surviving the unsurvivable. A must-read if you truly want to attempt to understand what happened in the camps and how hard it was to come back afterwards.

This volume consists, in fact, of two books otherwise titled Survival in Auschwitz and The Reawakening when sold separately.

The first book, If This Is A Man is the harrowing story of his capture, the journey to Auschwitz, his life in the camp and how he survived until the Liberation of 29 January 1945 by the Russians. It is all described with a detached humanism, never flinching at the violence, but with a gift of description and analogy. Primo Levy arrived at Auschwitz and was transferred by truck to a worksite, Buna-Monowitz.
[ Note that Auschwitz was not one specific place but actually several: Auschwitz I (with the Arbeit Macht Frei sing) was the central processing and original camp built on a pre-existing Polish military camp, starting in 1943 the much larger (400 hectares vs 30 hectares for Auschwitz I) Auschwitz-Birkenau was built with four massive crematoria (and two smaller original ones used to "perfect" the dosage of Zyclone B), the IG Farber chemical factory at Buna-Monowitz, and 50 other smaller work camps. One needs to understand how critical slave labor was to the economy of the Third Reich to fully appreciate the scale of what was attempted in and near the Polish town of Oświęcim (transformed into the more pronounceable Auschwitz by the Nazis).]
While the truck bumped along the Polish roads between Auschwitz I and Buna (about 10 kilometers away - absolutely nothing left today), the soldier asked them courteously one by one, in German and pidgin language, if [they had] and money or watches to give him, seeing that they would not be useful to use any more. This is no order, no regulation: it is obvious that it is a small private initiative of our Charon. The matter stirs us to anger and laughter and brings relief. (p. 27)

Once in the Lager (the German word for the camp that Levy uses), We have learnt that everything is useful: the wire to tie up our shows, the rags to wrap around our feet, waste paper to (illegally) pad out our jacket against the cold. We have learnt, on the other hand, that everything can be stolen, in fact, is automatically stolen as soon as attention is relaxed; and to avoid this, we had to learn the art of sleeping with our head on a bundle made up of our jacket and containing all our belongings, from the bowl to the shoes. (p. 39)

During his first week, he meets and befriends Steinlauf, an ex-sergeant of the Austro-Hungarian Army, Iron Cross of the '14-'18 war who teaches him a lesson of survival: that precisely because the Lager was a great machine to reduce us to beasts, we must not become beasts; that even in this place one can survive, and therefore one must want to survive, to tell the story, to bear witness; and that to survive we must force ourselves to save at least the skeleton, the scaffolding, the form of civilization. We are slaves, deprived of every right, exposed to every insult, condemned to certain death, but we still possess one power, and we must defend it with all our strength for it is the last - the power to refuse our consent. (p. 47). I found this one of the most powerful passages of this remarkable book.

He describes the endless nights of terror thus: The dream of Tantalus and the dream of the story are woven into a texture of more indistinct images: the suffering of the day, composed of hunger, blows, cold, exhaustion, fear and promiscuity, turns at night-time into shapeless nightmares of unheard-of violence, which in free life would only occur during a fever. One wakes up at every moment, frozen with terror, shaking in every limb, under the impression of an order shouted out by a voice full of anger in a language not understood. (p. 68). One wishes that this was fiction, but, of course, it is the real, lived experience of Primo described with such startling realism, written in the year following his return to Italy.

One of the most piquant chapters (which lent its name to another book by Primo Levy, The Drowned and the Saved describes those like Primo that survive but also the vast majority of inmates who did not. The name in camp for the endless masses of people that were visibly unable to cope and were certain to die was "musselman" or literally "muslim":
On their entry into the camp, through basic incapacity, or by misfortune, or through some banal incident, they are overcome before they can adapt themselves; they are beaten by time, they do not begin to learn German, to disentangle the infernal knot of laws and prohibitions until their body is already in decay, and nothing can save them from selections or from death by exhaustion. Their life is short, but their number is endless; they, the Muselmänner, the drowned, form the backbone of the camp, of non-men who march and labour in silence, the divine spark dead within them, already too empty to really suffer. One hesitates to call them living: one hesitates to call their death death, in the face of which they have no fear, as they are too tired to understand.
They crowd my memory with their faceless presences, and if I could enclose all the evil of our time in one image, I would choose this image which is familiar to me: an emaciated man, with head dropped and shoulders curved, on whose face and in whose eyes not a trace of thought is to be seen. (p. 96).

Levy is luckily assigned as a "chemist" to clean the doomed factor at Buna. It was created to create synthetic rubber for the German army (because after the Afrikacorps of Rommel was defeated in '42, they lost all access to African rubber plantations), but in fact never produced as much as an ounce of rubber (while killing probably 60-70k people in the process). But the Germans are deaf and blind, enclosed in an armour of obstinacy and of wilful ignorance. (p. 147)

Of course, the camp was bombed by the advancing Russians and the Germans put to flight. Levy was saved because he was sick and in the infirmary. His friends that were force-marched out of camp with the SS towards Germany all died (over 30% of the 60,000 during the Death Marches never made it to the next camp marching in pajamas in sub-zero weather without shoes.) During the bombing, those who were safe in the infirmary bolted themselves inside: Two huts were burning fiercely, another two had been pulverized, but they were all empty. Dozens of patients arrived, naked and wretched, from a hut threatened by fire: they asked for shelter. It was impossible to take them in. They insisted, begging, threatening in many languages. We had to barricade the door. They dragged themselves elsewhere lit up by the flames, barefoot in the melting snow. Many trailed behind them streaming bandages. (p. 163)

With painful precision, he describes the desperation after the Nazis left and the survivors had to scrounge for food to eat, and wood to light fires to melt the dirty snow for water. Of the over 100,000 prisoners in Auschwitz, only 7000 were still alive (many critically ill or seriously injured) when the Russians arrived on Jan 27, 1945.

The next section, The Truce describes Primo's long strange journey from Auschwitz, into Ukraine and Russia and then finally across Hungary and Germany back to Italy. It took nearly ten months for him to get back, all the time fighting for his survival day in and day out. It is full of adventure and colorful characters. It demonstrates that after Liberation, things did not suddenly go from awful to wonderful for the few survivors. There was a continuous struggle to keep hope alive to get back home. Primo was somewhat lucky, because he had family to go back to. Many were completely lost having no family left at all. On arriving and seeing his family again, the memories of hell are still there. I am alone in the center of a grey and turbid nothing, and now, I know what this thing means, and I also know that I have always known it; I am in the Lager once more, and nothing is true outside the Lager. All the rest was a brief pause, a deception of the senses, a dream; my family, nature in flower, my home. Now this inner dream, this dream of peace, is over, and in the outer dream, which continues, gelid, a well-known voice resounds: a single word, not imperious, but brief and subdued. It is the dawn command of Auschwitz, a foreign word, feared and expected: get up, 'Wstawàch'.

This is the most powerful book I read about the Holocaust and is perhaps the best way, before visiting one of the camps and in particular Auschwitz, to understand and imagine the horror of life there.

Fino's Reviews of Books about the Holocaust
Nonfiction:
If This Is A Man/The Truce by Primo Levy
The Periodic Table by Primo Levy
The Drowned and the Saved by Primo Levy
The Night by Elie Wiesel
Auschwitz by Laurence Rees
Fiction:
The Tatooist of Auschwitz by Heather Morris
Cilka's Journey by Heather Morris
Travel to Krakow to visit Auschwitz:
Krakow:City Guide [Blue Guides]

The second or third or fourth time I have read it. One of the most important works of the 20th century. Still stunned by how people keep on going, in the face of a bottomless abyss. Exhilarating, inspirational, full of an unfathomable spirit.

Also The Truce which was in the same volume. I had heard of this book and went to some trouble to obtain it for the Buddy Challenge, but did not make the group to read it and decided to read it anyway after the glowing reviews that had been posted. I am so pleased that I did. This absolutely belongs in the List and needs to be read by everyone. As Levi, himself, said, in answer to questions about these books..."I prefer the role of witness to that of judge. I can bear witness only to the things which I myself endured and saw. My books are not history books. In writing them I have limited myself strictly to reporting facts of which I had direct experience..." It is his spare, beautiful prose which describes his experience without emotional overlays which stuns the reader. He said that he would probably have been an anonymous chemist who never wrote, if it had not been for his experience in the extermination camp of Monowitz, close to Auschwitz. He felt he had to bear witness to what happened there. The Truce describes the torturous months after liberation, where he was taken by train to Russia, and then, months later transported painfully slowly by train back to Turin. He was an excellent observer and the characters are easily imagined from his wonderful descriptions. Highly recommended.

Este libro fue bastante distinto a lo que estoy acostumbrada a leer sobre el Holocausto.

No tiene esa tonalidad vengativa hacia los alemanes, o los demonizan como entes sin piedad que solo existen para maltratar a los judíos. Ambos libros (porque sí, es una dulogía) son todo un viaje de leer. Exhaustivo, desesperante, desastroso... y el hecho de que no narrara con odio o resentimiento hacia nadie es sorprendente y a la vez denota el gran corazón que tenía Primo... o el vacío que le dejó Buna.

Definitivamente algo que no debe repetirse nunca, y que debe ser recordado para que no vuelva a pasar.

Non ha senso fare la recensione di un libro che va comunque letto, a qualsiasi età, in qualsiasi nazione. Ognuno è chiamato a leggerlo e a trarne le considerazioni e gli insegnamenti che ritiene opportuni.
Per quanto riguarda "Se questo è un uomo", non avrei mai pensato che l'essere umano sarebbe stato in grado anche solo di concepire un'atrocità del genere, figurarsi poi di realizzarla su larga scala. È una macchia nera sulla fedina penale della nostra specie che non potrà mai essere lavata via.
"La Tregua", invece, narra del rientro a casa di Primo Levi e dei sopravvissuti ai campi di concentramento. Lungo nove mesi, il viaggio rappresenta per l'autore «una parentesi di illimitata disponibilità» se comparato con la prigionia appena terminata. Durante il viaggio, Levi ed i compagni ritornano a interagire con la società, e si domandano come troveranno il coraggio di affrontare la quotidianità della vita una volta rientrati alle loro famiglie.
Una storia toccante, la cui spontaneità mi ha fatto considerare che questo potrebbe tranquillamente essere il viaggio di ciascuno di noi.

L'orrore quotidiano nel famigerato lager di Auschwitz con le giornaliere violenze fisiche e morali, il lavoro spossante, le "selezioni" per la "soluzione definitiva", narrato da chi ci ha trascorso un anno, vivendo quotidianamente accanto alla morte fisica, morale e sociale. E' davvero difficile trovare le parole per descrivere quello che ho provato leggendo questo libro toccante scritto all'indomani della liberazione del protagonista e che ha già emozionato, indignato, turbato tanti lettori prima di me e assurgendo a testimonial di un passato che non deve essere dimenticato, perchè quell'orrore non si ripeta mai più

Difficile, se non quasi impossibile, commentare questo libro. Perché cos'altro c'è da dire che non abbia già scritto Primo Levi stesso?

In Se questo è un uomo si testimonia com'è possibile annientare tutto ciò che di umano c'è in un uomo: sentimenti, empatia, dignità, coraggio, desideri, speranze... Tutto ciò che resta è un guscio pieno solo di paura, che risponde a stimoli e ordini, e che tenta di restare in vita semplicemente perché è l'istinto che glielo impone. Ciò che viene mostrato in questo romanzo sembra impossibile, nel corso della lettura a tratti si ha la tentazione di pensare che sia solo un'incredibile distopia... ma non è così: tutto ciò che è scritto è accaduto, è la brutale e assurda realtà della Storia.

Considerate se questo è un uomo
Che lavora nel fango
Che non conosce pace
Che lotta per mezzo pane
Che muore per un sì o per un no.

Ne La tregua, poi, ci viene ricordato che il dolore e la morte non si sono arrestati il 27 gennaio 1945.
La libertà, l’improbabile, impossibile libertà, cosí lontana da Auschwitz che solo nei sogni osavamo sperare era giunta: ma non ci aveva portati alla Terra Promessa. Era intorno a noi, ma sotto forma di una spietata pianura deserta. Ci aspettavano altre prove, altre fatiche, altre fami, altri geli, alte paure.
Dopo l'abbandono dei Lager non c'è stato un semplice e diretto ritorno a casa e alla vita; ci sono state la lotta contro la malattia, la fame, il freddo, e le infinite peripezie del viaggio, complicate all'inverosimile da una ridicola burocrazia e dalle misere condizioni in cui versava l'Europa tutta al termine del conflitto. Ma, insieme al viaggio, assistiamo anche al lento e gradualissimo riappropriarsi della propria umanità: superando un ostacolo alla volta, affrontando un passo dopo l'altro, ritornano le speranze, i desideri, i sentimenti, i rapporti.

E il modo in cui Primo Levi ci racconta tutto questo - senza astio o rancore, senza pietismi o sentimentalismi, ma spinto dalla pura e semplice necessità di raccontare, mostrare, testimoniare - riesce a rendere ancora più incisiva l'esperienza di lettura. E' una prosa - qui come in altre sue opere - che trovo splendida: è pulita, limpida, eppure nulla è lasciato a caso, ogni parola è scelta con cura e attenzione, col risultato che nulla è mai superfluo, ma sempre carico di significato e destinato a lasciare un segno in chi legge. Una scrittura che ho trovato straordinaria già in Se questo un uomo, e che raggiunge l'apice ne La tregua - opera successiva di 12 anni e «più letteraria» per ammissione dell'autore stesso.
In questa seconda opera, in particolare, incontriamo numerosi personaggi che vengono di volta in volta descritti con incredibile sensibilità e vividezza: possono bastare anche poche righe per farceli restare nella mente e nel cuore, nel corso di un racconto che è sempre più corale, pagina dopo pagina - a ricordarci che non è la Storia di un singolo o di pochi, ma destino comune di milioni di individui.

E' un libro che va letto, riletto, meditato e soprattutto... mai dimenticato.