When a Christian boy disappears in a fictional Eastern European town in the 1920s, the local Jews are quickly accused of ritual murder. There is tension in the air. A pogrom threatens to erupt. Suddenly, an extraordinary man—Moshe the dreamer, a madman and mystic—steps forward & confesses to a crime he didn't commit, in a vain attempt to save his people from certain death. The community gathers to hear his last words—a plea for silence—& everyone present takes an oath: whoever survives the impending tragedy must never speak of the town’s last days & nights of terror. For fifty years the sole survivor keeps his oath—until he meets a man whose life depends on hearing the story, & one man’s loyalty to the dead confronts head-on another’s reason to go on living. One of Wiesel’s strongest early novels, this timeless parable about the Jews & their enemies, about hate, family, friendship & silence, is as powerful, haunting & significant as it was when first published.
Eliezer "Elie" Wiesel was a Romanian-born American writer, professor, political activist, Nobel laureate, and Holocaust survivor. He authored 57 books, written mostly in French and English, including Night, a work based on his experiences as a Jewish prisoner in the Auschwitz and Buchenwald concentration camps. In his political activities Wiesel became a regular speaker on the subject of the Holocaust and remained a strong defender of human rights during his lifetime. He also advocated for many other causes like the state of Israel and against Hamas and victims of oppression including Soviet and Ethiopian Jews, the apartheid in South Africa, the Bosnian genocide, Sudan, the Kurds and the Armenian genocide, Argentina's Desaparecidos or Nicaragua's Miskito people. He was a professor of the humanities at Boston University, which created the Elie Wiesel Center for Jewish Studies in his honor. He was involved with Jewish causes and human rights causes and helped establish the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C. Wiesel was awarded various prestigious awards including the Nobel Peace Prize in 1986. He was a founding board member of the New York Human Rights Foundation and remained active in it throughout his life.
Two of my favorite books come from the pen of Elie Wiesel. I was excited, therefore, to find his novel The Oath in a used bookstore, especially when I read that The Washington Starcalled it “Wiesel’s most ambitious, most rewarding story to date . . . Episodes of sheer beauty and power.”
Unfortunately, Part One of the book (which one must slug through before reaching the narrative in Parts Two and Three) is just that — a mere series of “episodes.” As a whole, it does not form a clear narrative, and it is in general a great (and ultimately unrewarding) chore to piece these episodes together.
In the frame story with which The Oath begins, an old man is speaking with a young man who is on the verge of suicide. The old man is attempting to deter the younger man from self-destruction, because as the Talmud says, “to turn a single human back toward life is to prevent the destruction of the world.” The old man has taken an oath not to reveal a tragic event that haunts his past, but he constantly alludes to it, strewing about hints like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Most of the first part of the novel, however, consists not of dialogue, but of stream of conscious thoughts and random flashbacks.
Wiesel is a very powerful writer, and he has produced some true masterpieces, among which are Night and Dawn. But Part One of The Oath, unlike these other novels, is largely inaccessible. Random thoughts, images, and events float about in a sea of prose. Wiesel is, above all else, a kind of prose poet, and he plays with language in a way most writers cannot. But the first purpose of language is to communicate, and where communication is lacking, mere ambiance and poetry cannot compensate. Whatever the academics may say, a work of literature is not great simply because it is difficult to understand.
Nevertheless, if you are able to wade through the first part of the novel, you will be rewarded in the second and third. Here Wiesel switches to a traditional narrative, with dialogue and action. And here the author is in good form, using concise prose and simple structures to create psychologically complex characters, powerful scenes, and thought-provoking dialogue. In the later parts of the novel, Wiesel tells the secret story that lies behind the oath, and he tells it with great skill.
If you are new to the works of Elie Wiesel, I recommend reading Night or Dawn first. If you already appreciate his works, you may want to tackle The Oath, but be prepared to pay a price in the first part of the novel for the rewards of the last.
When I picked up this book, I did not realize he was a major Jewish writer who writes about the Holocaust and such. I never had to read him in school. The style of writing in this book was not one I particularly enjoyed. It just kind of went on and on. There were 3 parts, and it never really seemed to get to the point until the 3rd, which had no chapters. I'm not a huge fan of books with no chapters, it makes it drag on when there is no clear break. The positive is that it did keep me hooked in enough to really want to know what happened. It's one of those stories that once you find out what's going on, you actually get mad at the characters for being so ridiculous. You have to keep in mind that the tensions between Jews and Christians back then is extremely different than today.
The first part of this book, alternately narrated by the old man and the young man, was so hard to get through that I almost stopped. It picked up a lot in the second part though, with an increasing thrum of dread. It's kind of a hard book to rate; I feel like it's simultaneously beautiful, and inscrutable (why didn't more people leave?? their motivations don't totally make sense), and painful, because mob hate is so brutal.
This has not been an easy reading for me. Now I'm feeling guilty for calling myself a Christian. The anti-semitism fueled by some passages in the Bible is the impersonation of evil.
A swarm of unanswered questions - like wasps - are circulating in my restless mind after reading this book. This is a book that I will probably return to and re-read.
"The Oath" is not the powerful, captivating read that is Elie Wiesel's "Night." Still, the novel managed to unsettle me and to leave me lamenting the wanton cruelty.
The Romanian-American writer and professor Eli Wiesel (1928-2016), who survived Auschwitz and Buchenwald, where his parents and a younger sister died, was an excellent writer who authored 57 books. His first book, Night, is a memoir of these experiences. His 1973 novel The Oath is brilliant. Everything about it is fantastic. The Chicago Tribune wrote, “In his poetic style, he continues to be the most eloquent spokesman, not only for the Jews of silence, but for the whole human race.” The plot is interesting, enlightening, and engaging, a delight to read. He won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1986 because of what he wrote about the horrors of the Holocaust, Russia, and other subjects. He artistically paints his characters in his poetic style, as Rembrandt painted in oils and brought his subject to life with his paints. His Nobel citation reads: “Wiesel is a messenger to mankind. His message is one of peace and atonement, and human dignity. The message is in the form of a testimony, repeated and deepened through the works of a great author.” He certainly deserved this Nobel Peace Prize. However, readers of this book and the other 56 will lead many of them, as they led me to feel that he should have also won the Nobel Prize for literature because his books are so good. The first hundred pages of the novel’s 286 tell of an old man who experienced the horrors that caused the oath of silence. His name is Azriel. He lived in the destroyed town called Kolvillag. He struggles with his promise not to speak of the tragedy while helping people during his travels. The two names and the oath are ironic in meaning more than their literal sense, or, sometimes, just the opposite. Azriel is Hebrew for “a strong man of God,” and Kolvilag denotes “all villages.” While the oath demands silence, the book itself and Wiesel’s post-holocaust writing life demonstrate the need to speak out clearly and loudly. The novel introduces many people. In the first hundred pages, we encounter Azriel. In the remaining parts, we meet a madman, the primary person involved in the massacre in Kolvillag. The term “mad man” may be understood as insane, bizarre, or unusual. I prefer the latter. We read about a missing, mischievous Christian boy. We encounter the leader of the non-Jews whom the Jews had helped, both he and his father, who preceded him as a leader, who ignored his benefactors during the tragedy and horrors that accompanied it. We see a non-Jewish official whom Jews bribed for years for help, who is essential to stopping the pogrom but is impotent. There is a rabbi who pontificates, an ugly Jewish woman who becomes an ideal wife when appropriately treated by the man she marries, a Jew who chronicles events, a Jewish lawyer who abandoned Jewish practices and married a non-Jewish woman who fails to help his co-religionists during the days they are brutally murdered, and many others. We read about a dozen pogroms in over a dozen cities. The madman recognizes this history and calls upon his fellow Kolvillag citizens to take an oath to remain silent. Bizarrely, he argues that all the talk about the horrors in the past brought no relief, so perhaps silence will help. Is it rational to wear a mask when Jews face a plague of anti-Semitism?
This book about an old Jewish man trying to convince a young man not to suicide by telling him a secret he’s kept his whole life of the total destruction of his hometown in pre-WWII Hungary. The idea being if he’s in the middle of a story the young man can’t kill himself. Part 1 of the book is, I must confess a bit slow and confusing. Maybe because being brought up a Christian, I am unfamiliar with many Jewish traditions and prophets. That being said, the writing is beautiful and poetic. Part 2 and 3 is easier to grasp as it tells a more linear story of the town’s fate turning neighbours into executioners. I found, strangely, that the story of the narrator’s mentor, Moshe, paralleled the fate of Christ to a certain degree. Was this on purpose, I would think so. Interesting and challenging read.
The pacing of the novel was unique - slow and obscure to start, like wandering in a foggy city. It builds incrementally - but then the last 50-ish pages are like leaping off a cliff. This is the place to which we'd climbed. But that kind of mirrored the central story - that there is a hatred that is silent, slow, continuous, inexorable - and when it exploded, it took *everything* into destruction in a single paroxysm of slaughter. There is no longer any such place as Kollvillag. (sp?) Destruction of one, is destruction of all.
The messianic notes and the heavy philosophical and theological weight. They are necessary - and that does remove the sense that there is a story being told. This is more a treatise, or a parable.
It isn't that you can say you liked this book. It is not likeable. Respect... Perhaps.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Azriel is the lone survivor of a pogrom that completely wiped out the village of Kolvillag. He has sworn an oath never to speak of what happened to his fellow Jewish villagers, but breaks his vow in order to save the life of a young man contemplating suicide. Most American literature focuses on a character's ability to break free from his past in order to create a new future for himself. The future, for him, is the all-important goal to which all effort and energy is devoted. I thought the most compelling part of The Oath was Wiesel's portrayal of the past playing just as an integral role in a man's life as the future. The consideration of and responsibility to tradition, heritage, and especially the dead was vastly different from the American ideal of the future and newness.
"Une puissance invisible me force à marcher, tête basse ou tête haute, un bout de chemin, seul ou aux côtés d'un autre être, et on appelle cela vivre. Je regarde en arrière et on appelle cela conscience. Quelqu'un me sourit et me tend la main; on appelle cela amour. Quelqu'un nous offre son soutien et sa complicité et on parle d'amitié. Je ferme les yeux et on appelle cela l'interrogation. Puis on se retrouve, à quelques pas, à quelques rencontres de là, au bout de la route, à l'entrée de la nuit, au bord du précipice et on se dit : voilà, c'est fini. Et toute la richesse de cette existence, tout ce mystère de ce moi, du coup s'évaporent : un homme a vécu." p.68
While, I am aware this book was written by a Holocaust Survivor, I still found it very confusing and unnerving. The symbolism compares that of Jesus sacrifice with that of a martyr and the Holocaust to that of the killing of Jews for a more simplistic reason. While the book is read as a story within; it is hard to focus on what is happening in the story being told compared to the reason the story is being told in the first place.
Like everything Wiesel writes, he weaves his magic in every word. This book works on so many levels; an account of anti-semitism and its impact, a calling to remind us of who we all are at the root of any religion, a plea to unite us all behind humanity and brotherhood.
It feels increasingly relevant to read in 2025, where genocide is alive and well in our world. History rhymes and repeats itself. The least we can do is bear witness.
The first fiction of Wiesel’s I’ve read. He wrote powerfully about the horrors of religious and ethnic violence. It was wild to read this, though, while watching the IDF enact the same types of horrors that are described in this book, and to know that Wiesel was a firm apologist for the Israeli nation-state.
A sombering story. The fist section was hard to follow though it's started to make sense the more I read. This book takes a lot to get through as it brings you face to face with some very deep and dark aspects of humanity.
Here's an idea on how to read this book and enjoy it -- start with Part 2, then read part 3, and conclude with part 1. It will probably make more sense once you know the full story, which is spelled out it parts 2 and 3. The ending also reminds me of that in Moby Dick. It's short, ugly, nearly everyone dead and one remaining survivor, who becomes the narrator. At times interesting, at times tedious, I rate it in the middle.
This book is astonishing in its philosophical clarity, in giving reason to continue to live, and in its moral value. Beautifully written-it reads like it could have been written in just a few sittings-brilliantly done-painful to read and necessary if you are able to take a very heavy topic.
Whatever the author's current beliefs on Iraq, Israel, etc,, this is a very good novel that delves into why pogroms happen and how they were carried out.
Not particularly cheery reading, but fascinating for the question Wiesel raises about whether the ability to remember or the ability to forget is more useful in moving past tragedy.
I probably shouldn't list this as read because I read about the first three chapters and couldn't get into it. When I saw it was due at the library I just returned it unfinished...