A gripping read. I found it difficult to find secure footing, which I'm quite sure was the point of the craft. Adolf Eichmann stands as a linchpin in human history, a ghostly embodiment of the human weaknesses of moral equivalency and justification. By imagining the private lives of Shalom Nagar, the subject of a documentary called The Hangman--which I recommend highly, by the way--and the two silent, omnipresent friends with him while he tells his tale, the authors confront the unambiguous nature of Jewish law, as learned through scripture, with the stifling reality of everyday humanity.
Eichmann was a man, who slept, woke, ate, eliminated, smelled, breathed, walked, wrote, and possessed a hundred little quirks that made him a clothed-in-skin, beating heart human being. The man who guarded him many days also threw the lever that opened a panel beneath his feet so he could be hung by the neck until he died. But he was also the man who made it possible for the Nazi death machine to kill so many Jews in such a small span of time--because he engineered and administrated, measured and eliminated, optimized and re-optimized train cars, trains, train schedules, boats, ships, shipping routes, and finally, roads, troops, and marches so that the maximum number of Jews could be exterminated in the fastest amount of time. What does it mean to be such a man? What does it mean to be the one who is forced to carry out the sentence, the condemnation, the utter rejection, of an entire people upon such a man?
Would it haunt you? Would it follow your steps for the rest of your life? Would it drive you mad? Would you be blessed because you had carried out the will of God? These are the questions this novel asks. The entirety of this book is a very few pages; the resonance of it is infinite. And not until the very last sentence do you understand.