Was helping a friend deliver a load of hay to an old barn. It was for an elderly Ukrainian couple... only knew them as big Joe and his wife... his wife worked the garden and she had to crawl up and down the rows but never stopped. She sold the vegetables in the Brentford market... always had the best sourkraut...one morning as she was filling my container I saw the tattoo number on her arm...I cried...
I wonder if “gas or water?” is the real question. Witness the terrible destruction of forests, the ubiquitous tragic wars, fearful racism of every stripe, the poisoning of our soil, water and air, affecting all peoples everywhere, the wealthiest getting wealthier on the backs of the poorest and most defenseless, and on and on and on . . . I am pessimistic. I am inclined to think that the real choice now is not between gas and water but rather gas that kills almost instantly and the variety that kills slowly and painfully, the latter in my opinion is already her, affecting humanity by the millions. if the harm to our world is not stopped and reversed it will likely continue at an accelerated pace. Do leaders, like those who in the aftermath of WW II acted to restore stability and sanity to a world that had gone mad, still exist?
I read this piece and put it aside at first, not sure how to console your summertime blues. What stays with me isn't the water instead of gas — it's what came after. Hermann didn't get hope handed to him in that shower room. He got one more day. We don't get to know the ending either. Inches or another day are what everyone who ever came through something was actually doing. I’m betting on actively acting on the smallest glimmer of hope we have to get us through.
My mother has a similar scene with the showers at Auschwitz in her last novel, Letters to Abrasha, which I'm currently translating. She describes the women's insane relief when the showers are turned on and what comes out is water. It is cold water, but water nonetheless, and these grown women, many of them sick and starving, start to splash around like little children. It's an amazing description and one that I'm sure is based on what she experienced.
One wants to be hopeful, but the prospects are sometimes overwhelmingly bleak. Human nature doesn’t seem to favour taking collective action. Denialism is powerful — although it has its limits. Indeed, I’m often reminded of the scene in the movie ‘The Great Race’ (1965), when the main characters are stranded on a shrinking iceberg. The Great Leslie (Tony Curtis) tells Professor Fate (Jack Lemmon) not to mention to the others that the ice is melting. Fate agrees, but mutters sarcastically: “Until the water reaches my lower lip, and then I'm gonna mention it to SOMEBODY!” (That was my mother’s favourite line in the film; and we heard it often in our household. I suppose the moral was there’s always a point when you can still do something about a bad situation. Or at least laugh about it.)
I think we are on the same page Archie. I was suggesting your scenario might be at hand, but that maybe by virtue of some miracle or good sense, or good luck, water might yet flow down upon us.
Gas or water-- a choice between the devil and the deep blue sea. Saw 'The Odyssey' yesterday and was mightily affected by the moral Christopher Nolan frames so carefully. Thank you for the story about Hermann.
"Gas or water"...the gods are laughing as they sprinkle "hope" as stardust and taunt us...
Hi Bryan
Have a wee story..
Was helping a friend deliver a load of hay to an old barn. It was for an elderly Ukrainian couple... only knew them as big Joe and his wife... his wife worked the garden and she had to crawl up and down the rows but never stopped. She sold the vegetables in the Brentford market... always had the best sourkraut...one morning as she was filling my container I saw the tattoo number on her arm...I cried...
There were a lot of those tattoos. Soon there will be none left, and may they never be revived.
I wonder if “gas or water?” is the real question. Witness the terrible destruction of forests, the ubiquitous tragic wars, fearful racism of every stripe, the poisoning of our soil, water and air, affecting all peoples everywhere, the wealthiest getting wealthier on the backs of the poorest and most defenseless, and on and on and on . . . I am pessimistic. I am inclined to think that the real choice now is not between gas and water but rather gas that kills almost instantly and the variety that kills slowly and painfully, the latter in my opinion is already her, affecting humanity by the millions. if the harm to our world is not stopped and reversed it will likely continue at an accelerated pace. Do leaders, like those who in the aftermath of WW II acted to restore stability and sanity to a world that had gone mad, still exist?
I read this piece and put it aside at first, not sure how to console your summertime blues. What stays with me isn't the water instead of gas — it's what came after. Hermann didn't get hope handed to him in that shower room. He got one more day. We don't get to know the ending either. Inches or another day are what everyone who ever came through something was actually doing. I’m betting on actively acting on the smallest glimmer of hope we have to get us through.
My mother has a similar scene with the showers at Auschwitz in her last novel, Letters to Abrasha, which I'm currently translating. She describes the women's insane relief when the showers are turned on and what comes out is water. It is cold water, but water nonetheless, and these grown women, many of them sick and starving, start to splash around like little children. It's an amazing description and one that I'm sure is based on what she experienced.
One wants to be hopeful, but the prospects are sometimes overwhelmingly bleak. Human nature doesn’t seem to favour taking collective action. Denialism is powerful — although it has its limits. Indeed, I’m often reminded of the scene in the movie ‘The Great Race’ (1965), when the main characters are stranded on a shrinking iceberg. The Great Leslie (Tony Curtis) tells Professor Fate (Jack Lemmon) not to mention to the others that the ice is melting. Fate agrees, but mutters sarcastically: “Until the water reaches my lower lip, and then I'm gonna mention it to SOMEBODY!” (That was my mother’s favourite line in the film; and we heard it often in our household. I suppose the moral was there’s always a point when you can still do something about a bad situation. Or at least laugh about it.)
I think we are on the same page Archie. I was suggesting your scenario might be at hand, but that maybe by virtue of some miracle or good sense, or good luck, water might yet flow down upon us.
You gotta laugh; otherwise you’ll cry.
Good question. May his memory be a blessing.
Gas or water-- a choice between the devil and the deep blue sea. Saw 'The Odyssey' yesterday and was mightily affected by the moral Christopher Nolan frames so carefully. Thank you for the story about Hermann.