About book The Mascot: Unraveling The Mystery Of My Jewish Father's Nazi Boyhood (2007)
As a parent of a one-year old baby girl, one of the most difficult things for me to read about and yet find so intriguing is the subject of children in times of war. Perhaps it is the stark contrast between childhood innocence (and helplessness) and the animal-like cruelty that Man is capable of inflicting to himself.Children and war. It is a pain that strikes me in deep the heart, the same way I feel when I read about babies abandoned at birth or children neglected and abused. War is that great thief who robs children of their basic birthrights to unconditional love, to not hunger and want for food, to be protected, to grow, to learn what is right and what is wrong; to know joy and understand the revelations that come with curiosity.So while it is true that in war, old men argue and young men die - it holds even more truth that children suffer the most. They must live through the fear and trauma without the ability to comprehend the events that consume their innocence. Sad stories abound of children in such times of cruelty and The Mascot is one such true story set during the Holocaust.This is the third book after The Book Thief and the Hitler Book that I've read this year dealing with the subjects of Nazism and genocide during WWII. But this book is more explicit and very very much more personal. The Mascot is told by Mark Kurzem, who relates the journey of self-discovery by his aging father, Alex Kurzem who reveals to him the dark secret he has kept his whole life, from the time he was a boy in Belarus up until his eventual migration to Australia after the war. In short, 60 years of silence.At the age of only 5, Alex Kurzem is told by his mother one rainy night that come morning, they would all be killed. He sneaks out early the next morning, leaving his mother and siblings and heads for the woods. In the dark, he falls into a pit and in it he finds people, dead and dying. He falls asleep in the arms of a woman who is half buried and before the sun rises, he wakes and continues on. A while later, from the hills, he witnesses his whole village - including his mother, brother and sister, being shot and bayoneted before being tossed into the same pit he had fallen in a short while before.He runs away farther into the woods and there he wanders for the next few months. Alone, eating berries and sleeping up in trees, he survives the elements and is found by a Latvian SS unit. He is marched to a clearing where another group of people are huddled together. There, the soldiers push him towards the group. An old man holds him and tells him not to be afraid. He soon realises that this group of people were being lined up for extermination. Desperate to live, the small boy asks for bread and starts to do acts to amuse his captors. The senior officer of the unit steps out - Seargeant Kulis. Kulis pulls the boy out of the firing line, and with that spares his life. Given a set of uniform made to his size, the young Alex Kurzem becomes a mascot for the SS unit and travels with them as they go on patrol, hunting for partizani (partisans) and exterminating Jews.The Mascot is about the search by Alex Kurzem of his true identity, erased by his supposed captor-saviours starting with vague memories of his childhood (seeing his father saying goodbye to him and his family, playing with his best friend, picking apples from a tree in his backyard for his mother) to horrific scenes of massacres that he is forced to watch as a Corporal in the SS unit (the head of the unit, a Commander Karlis Lobe accepts Kulis' request to keep the boy with the soldiers and after making him a Private, promotes him to a Corporal).Unable to distinguish between what his real memories are, or what are images planted in his mind as a child by his captors, Alex endures the torment with the help of his son. They seek help from the Holocaust Center, and persist despite anonymous threats and intimidation by both elements within the Latvian community (who feel that the Kurzems' actions will expose their complicity in genocide during the war) and that of the Jewish community (with visits by Israeli agents looking for more leads in their hunt for Nazi war criminals).Through the help of an elderly lady working in the Holocaust Center - Alice Prosser, the Kurzems are able to network with historians in Latvia and from there, they travel to Belarus to find more information about two words that Alex Kurzem could remember from his childhood - "Koidanov" and "Panok".As if Fate had shown compassion and foresight in the midst of all the killing, these two words imprinted somehow in the mind of the young boy would somehow be the key to his journey home to where it all began.I must admit that some parts of the book are just too amazing to be true - how can a boy of 5 have such a clear recollection of events around him? How could he have remembered things his father said to him, or the dialogue of adults surrounding him? But I put aside my disbelief and read on and what an amazing journey it turns out to be.Father and son slowly confront the past, both sitting at the kitchen table every night in the wee hours - Alex recollecting, and Mark recording. Their travel to Minsk, Belarus and then to Dzerzhinsk (which is later revealed to be the name the Soviets used to replace the original name - Koidanov) reveal a clearer picture of who Alex Kurzem was before his capture. We learn of the Koidanov massacre that saw the extermination of his family, the meaning of Panok, and the discovery of a half-brother (Erick Galperin) from his father's second marriage.In Koidanov, he meets an old couple who remember him as Ilya Galperin, the eldest son of Solomon Galperin who survived Auswitch and came home looking for his family, only to discover them all dead (and never knowing until his death in 1975 that his eldest son had in fact escaped the massacre).Through the arduous process, the pieces are put together and missing links discovered. But not everything is solved, and some questions remain. There is no finality to Alex Kurzem's search for himself (as the reader soon finds out). The author himself admits to this much. We find out how Alex Kurzem survived the war, and how he eventually ended up in Australia. We also see the pain through the eyes of a 5 year old child, forced to see things no child should ever see, or even try to understand, and through that, we see also how it came to be that so much of his past became suppressed within himself for such a long time."Would it have been better if you'd never spoken of the past?' Mark Kurzem asks of his father.'I honestly don't know, son,' Alex Kurzem answers. 'Even after sixty years, it unsettled me in a way that I could never have imagined. I thought I was in charge of my life but it wasn't so. How I survived even now dictates my life and all I can do is follow at a safe distance, chained to it. It's as if there are two persons in my body. There is the Alex everybody knows and there's another Alex who was a secret. They'll have to learn to accommodate each other again.'In closing, Mark Kurzem wrote - 'I had my answers to the questions I had harboured since that day at the Cafe Daquise in London when my father had suddenly become a stranger to me. I believed that now I was closer to an understanding. There was no resolution, no absolution, no closure, no moving on, no getting over it, no pop psychology solution. Only an accommodation of the past. My father had somehow known this all along.'This book is unforgettable and I doubt I will ever come across another book as special as this one. I find it hard to look at the black and white photographs without feeling sadness for the little boy in them. No child should ever go through this experience. Over and over again, it fills me with amazement that that child survived and grew into adulthood.I am glad Alex Kurzem found the strength to break his silence and eventually brought to light the truth that so many had tried to hide for so many decades. Just as Alex came to realise, the reader will also come to the conclusion that behind the supposed kindness of his captors, there was something evil there as well. These men, Mr Dzenis, Commander Lobe, Sergeant Kulis - all had their selfish reasons for taking in the boy, and they made it very clear in the end when Alex Kurzem started to dig up the past.I strongly recommend this book, not for any lessons that it may hold, but more for the amazing story of an old man's search for the truth, and that common desire we as humans all share .. that simple need to belong to someone, to belong to somewhere.To have a start, and a finish.
Alex Kurzem is a retired television repair man living in Melbourne. In 1997 he arrived, without prior announcement, on the doorstep of his son Mark, an academic living in Oxford, England. In the days that follow, Alex takes the first of many tentative steps toward revealing his extraordinary past, a secret he has buried deep for almost 60 years.As a Jewish boy, aged only 5 or 6, Alex witnessed the murder of his mother and siblings by a German-led execution squad. Fleeing into the nearby forest, he survived the harsh conditions for several months; scavenging food and clothing from fallen soldiers by day, and strapping himself to the elevated branches of trees to avoid the threat of wolves at night. Eventually he is discovered by Latvian soldiers, and finding favour with a sergeant, is adopted as the "mascot" of the battalion. For the remainder of the war, he travelled with the soldiers, dressed in a miniature military uniform, climbing in esteem until he earned the title of "little corporal". Part propaganda tool, part good luck charm, the young boy is exposed to an unending sea of atrocity. He is coerced into finding girls for the pleasure of the solders, into handing chocolates to Jews as they board trucks destined for death camps, and armed with a weapon, he is even asked to kill another (a request he thankfully refuses to accept).The events of the story are undeniably extraordinary, yet equally fascinating is the tangential analysis of the mystery of memory. Even across the gulf of six decades, Alex is able to recall specific events with inexplicable vividness, whilst other facts remain entirely elusive (including his real name). Memories rise and recede like waves, and we can never be entirely sure of what recollections are real and what are imagined. Indeed, certain events are described in such detail that we inevitably begin to wonder if the memories are actually mental constructions aimed at building a cohesive and palatable narrative from a scattered collection of horrific intuitions.Another key theme raised by the story is that of complicity. There is perhaps little question that the young Kurzem cannot be held responsible for his actions whilst in the company of the soldiers, but the variable manner in which he recounts his experience, wavering between unwarranted guilt, and exaggerated self-praise, is fascinating - even disturbing. In some cases, he speaks of his actions with pride, considered and deliberate and seemingly well beyond his years; on another occasion he naively claimed to be ignorant of what would happen to the Jews that he helped usher onto the backs of trucks. This behaviour only serves to highlight the deep ambivalence that cuts through Kurzem's past. He abhors what he witnessed, yet is desperate to gain purpose and meaning, even joy, from a childhood he never had the freedom to savour.The book, which is written by Kurzem's son Mark, is predominantly presented as a series of long conversations interwoven with detective-like research into the past. The story is told with respect, and delivered with a diligent hand. It is also overtly polished. Mark admits in the End Note that timeframes were compressed to aid readability, but in my assessment, the entire book was sequenced as if it were penned as a script for a movie, with junctures of suspense, intrigue, and impending doom, all superbly placed. These treatments ultimately detract from the historical nature of the book, suggesting, perhaps incorrectly, that Kurzem's tragic past has also been tailored for our reading pleasure.I listened to the audio version of this book, read by David Tredinnick. It is without doubt, the best audiobook recording I've ever heard. Tredinnick's reading is simply outstanding, and perfectly captures the drama of Alex's quest. And a moving quest it is: a search for personal identity and inner peace; a longing for empathy, absolution, and purpose, that opens wounds, raises doubts, and surfaces as many questions as it resolves.
Do You like book The Mascot: Unraveling The Mystery Of My Jewish Father's Nazi Boyhood (2007)?
I have read many, many Holocaust stories but this one was unlike any I had read before. His mother had told her son, five-year-old Alex Kurzem that they would all die the next day and not to be afraid. He escaped in the morning and saw his family shot by the soldiers after being placed in a large hole with many others. After running away he was picked up by a Nazi who was the only one who knew he was Jewish. He became a mascot and "honorary corporal" in the SS with his own uniform, and stayed with this group until liberation. But what began as a desperate bid for survival became a performance that delighted the highest ranks of the Nazi elite. And so a young Jewish boy ended up starring in a Nazi propaganda film.After the war he moved to Australia, married and had children. It was in 1997 that he began his quest to remember what had happened to him and his family. Oddley enough, many of the Nazi's who knew him were now living in Australia and threatened him to remain quiet. It was to his son that he was able to remember his family members and what had really happened to him so many years ago.
—Maude
This is an amazing and heartbreaking story of a young boy who witnessed the death of his mother and siblings at the hands of SS soldiers only to go on to become a young "soldier" himself in order to survive. The narrative is told through the eyes of the "little soldier's" adult son, who helped his father sort through the fragmented memories in order to find out his true identity. It is one of the most unbelievable stories of survival I have ever read. One cannot blame the Oxford professors who first listened to the memories of this man and did not believe him. It is only as you read through the book that you see how the pieces fit together and what a labor of love it was for the son to help his father, even through the pain of understanding his own father's role as a boy in the persecution of Jews in Latvia.
—Meghan
The Mascot is such a powerful and compelling biography. It is not your traditional biography--Holocaust or not. It is the story of how one man's past is revealed, how a father chooses to share his memories--some quite vivid, others very vague or fuzzy--with his adult son. The father's life is revealed to his son in a series of conversations and through the son's research to validate his father's story.Mark, our narrator, always knew his father had his secrets. His father had a brown bag he carried with him everywhere. No one was allowed to see this bag's contents. But. Occasionally, the father would share with his family--his wife and sons--stories from the past. On these occasions, he'd pull out a photograph, an article, an item from the bag. Mark suspected that these stories were just that--stories, being part fact, part embellishment. But one day his father tries to tell him the truth, the whole truth, the whole UGLY truth about his past. Pieces and fragments. A memory here and there. What is certainly understandable is just how much is missing, how much he doesn't know about who he is and where he comes from. He was told by his rescuers (Latvian police men or Latvian soldiers?) that he was found in the woods or forest. Alone. Wandering. Obviously struggling to survive. He was taken in by the soldiers and "adopted" into their company. They gave him a name. They gave him a birthday. They gave him a small uniform--from 1941 to 1945 he was given three uniforms. Though he was taken into one man's home--"adopted" (though not legally) by a husband and wife--he stayed connected or associated with a unit of soldiers. He witnessed things NO CHILD of five, six, seven, eight, or nine should EVER witness. He saw men, women, children, babies being killed--in one instance herded together into a building which was then set on fire. Though he doesn't remember his name--his family name, the names of his brother and sister, father and mother--or the name of his village, the name of his country--he does remember one thing: he witnessed the slaughter of his mother, his younger brother, his baby sister. He witnessed the slaughter of an entire neighborhood or village. At the time, he didn't realize this violence, this bloody slaughter, was because they were Jewish. In fact, his very "Jewishness" was buried deep inside him. At times he seemed aware that he too was Jewish, that his life was at risk if his Jewishness was revealed. But at the same time, the only way he could cope with his present--with his new reality, his new identity, the company he was keeping--was forced to keep in a way--was to bury his 'true' Jewish identity and become the boy others wanted/needed him to be. To survive, he had to deny so very very much. So the story Mark hears from his father is fragmented, in a way, with very few clues. But it is emotional and intense. Almost too much for him to handle. In fact, it is almost too much for him--the father--to handle. And at one point, he asks himself and he asks his son why. Why bother remembering the past? What good--if any--can come from remembering, from seeking to remember, from uncovering the truth, from piecing everything together, from telling and sharing his story with his family, his friends, his community. For those expecting a clear answer to this, you might be disappointed. The truth is not that black and white. A son and father learn much about one another. The family is at times strengthened, but at other times put under great stress and pressure--by all this. There were things that seemed a little shocking to me, for one, that there were certain organizations (if organizations is the right word?) that denied and rejected his story. Who told him that he was NOT Jewish, that he did NOT suffer during the war, that his story was not part of the Holocaust. Still others (sometimes just individuals, other times groups of individuals) who denied his story, who essentially said that his story was all lies, that it could not happen, did not happen. I think this shocked the son as well, that people could hear the story, see the photographs, and come to the conclusion that this small child (he was found at the age of five) was a willing participant in the war, that he voluntarily joined the enemy, that he was a Nazi just like the others--the adult soldiers. Was he ethically responsible for the actions taken by others? True, you might argue, that the soldiers were trying to "train" him to be a little Nazi, a good, little soldier. But what choice--if any--would he have had?
—Becky
