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Lettere: 1942-1943
Edizione con copertina alternativa ISBN 8845916057 / ISBN13 9788845916052
Le lettere, scritte in gran parte nel campo di Westerbork, che ci permettono di udire la voce di Etty Hillesum fino all’ultimo – fino alla cartolina gettata dal treno che la portava ad Auschwitz.
Le lettere, scritte in gran parte nel campo di Westerbork, che ci permettono di udire la voce di Etty Hillesum fino all’ultimo – fino alla cartolina gettata dal treno che la portava ad Auschwitz.
149 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1981
16 people are currently reading
386 people want to read
About the author
Etty Hillesum
46 books138 followersEsther 'Etty' Hillesum was a young Jewish woman whose letters and diaries, kept between 1941 and 1943 describe life in Amsterdam during the German occupation. They were published posthumously in 1981, before being translated into English in 1983.
Etty spent her childhood years in Middelburg, Hilversum (1914–16), Tiel (1916–18), Winschoten (1918–24) and Deventer, from July 1924 on, where she entered the fifth form of the Graaf van Burenschool. The family lived at number 51 on the A. J. Duymaer van Twiststraat (at present time number 2). Later (in 1933) they moved to the Geert Grootestraat 9, but by then Etty was no longer living at home. After primary school, Etty attended the gymnasium (grammar school) in Deventer, where her father was deputy headmaster. Unlike her younger brother Jaap, who was an extremely gifted pupil, Etty's marks were not particularly worthy of note. At school she also studied Hebrew, and for a time attended the meetings of a Zionist young people's group in Deventer. After completing her school years, she went to Amsterdam to study law. She took lodgings with the Horowitz family, at the Ruysdaelstraat 321, where her brother Mischa had been staying since July 1931. Six months later she moved to the Apollolaan 29, in where her brother Jaap also lived from September 1933 while he was studying medicine. In November, Jaap moved to the Jan Willem Brouwerstraat 22hs; Etty followed one month later. As from September 1934, Etty's name once again appeared in the registry at Deventer.On 6 June 1935 she took her bachelor's exams in Amsterdam. At that time she was living with her brother Jaap at Keizersgracht 612c. In March 1937 she took a room in the house of the accountant Hendrik (Hans) J. Wegerif, at Gabriel Metsustraat 61, an address also officially registered as the residence of her brother Jaap from October 1936 to September 1937. Wegerif, a widower, hired Etty as his housekeeper, but also began an affair with her. It was in this house that she lived until her definitive departure for Westerbork in 1943.
Before her final departure for Westerbork, Etty gave her Amsterdam diaries to Maria Tuinzing, who had meanwhile come to live in the house on the Gabriel Metsustraat as well. Etty asked her to pass them along to the writer Klaas Smelik, with the request that they be published if she did not return. In 1946 or 1947, Maria Tuinzig turned over the exercise books and a bundle of letters to Klaas Smelik. His daughter Johanna (Jopie) Smelik then typed out sections of the diaries, but Klaas Smelik's attempts to have the diaries published in the 1950s proved fruitless. Two letters Etty had written, in December 1942 and on 24 August 1943, concerning conditions in Westerbork, did get published. They appeared in the autumn of 1943 in an illegal edition by David Koning, at the recommendation of Etty's friend Petra (Pim) Eldering. This edition, with a run of one hundred copies, was printed by B. H. Nooy of Purmerend under the title Drie brieven van den kunstschilder Johannes Baptiste van der Pluym (1843–1912) [Three Letters from the Painter Johannes Baptiste van der Pluym (1843–1912)]. The two letters were preceded by a foreword with a biography of the artist, and followed by a third letter, both written by David Koning to camouflage the true contents. The revenues from the publication were used to provide assistance to Jews in hiding. These letters have since been republished on several occasions.
Etty's father and mother either died during transport to Auschwitz or were gassed immediately upon arrival. The date of death given was 10 September 1943. According to the Red Cross, Etty died at Auschwitz on 30 November 1943. Her brother Mischa died on 31 March 1944, also at Auschwitz.
Etty spent her childhood years in Middelburg, Hilversum (1914–16), Tiel (1916–18), Winschoten (1918–24) and Deventer, from July 1924 on, where she entered the fifth form of the Graaf van Burenschool. The family lived at number 51 on the A. J. Duymaer van Twiststraat (at present time number 2). Later (in 1933) they moved to the Geert Grootestraat 9, but by then Etty was no longer living at home. After primary school, Etty attended the gymnasium (grammar school) in Deventer, where her father was deputy headmaster. Unlike her younger brother Jaap, who was an extremely gifted pupil, Etty's marks were not particularly worthy of note. At school she also studied Hebrew, and for a time attended the meetings of a Zionist young people's group in Deventer. After completing her school years, she went to Amsterdam to study law. She took lodgings with the Horowitz family, at the Ruysdaelstraat 321, where her brother Mischa had been staying since July 1931. Six months later she moved to the Apollolaan 29, in where her brother Jaap also lived from September 1933 while he was studying medicine. In November, Jaap moved to the Jan Willem Brouwerstraat 22hs; Etty followed one month later. As from September 1934, Etty's name once again appeared in the registry at Deventer.On 6 June 1935 she took her bachelor's exams in Amsterdam. At that time she was living with her brother Jaap at Keizersgracht 612c. In March 1937 she took a room in the house of the accountant Hendrik (Hans) J. Wegerif, at Gabriel Metsustraat 61, an address also officially registered as the residence of her brother Jaap from October 1936 to September 1937. Wegerif, a widower, hired Etty as his housekeeper, but also began an affair with her. It was in this house that she lived until her definitive departure for Westerbork in 1943.
Before her final departure for Westerbork, Etty gave her Amsterdam diaries to Maria Tuinzing, who had meanwhile come to live in the house on the Gabriel Metsustraat as well. Etty asked her to pass them along to the writer Klaas Smelik, with the request that they be published if she did not return. In 1946 or 1947, Maria Tuinzig turned over the exercise books and a bundle of letters to Klaas Smelik. His daughter Johanna (Jopie) Smelik then typed out sections of the diaries, but Klaas Smelik's attempts to have the diaries published in the 1950s proved fruitless. Two letters Etty had written, in December 1942 and on 24 August 1943, concerning conditions in Westerbork, did get published. They appeared in the autumn of 1943 in an illegal edition by David Koning, at the recommendation of Etty's friend Petra (Pim) Eldering. This edition, with a run of one hundred copies, was printed by B. H. Nooy of Purmerend under the title Drie brieven van den kunstschilder Johannes Baptiste van der Pluym (1843–1912) [Three Letters from the Painter Johannes Baptiste van der Pluym (1843–1912)]. The two letters were preceded by a foreword with a biography of the artist, and followed by a third letter, both written by David Koning to camouflage the true contents. The revenues from the publication were used to provide assistance to Jews in hiding. These letters have since been republished on several occasions.
Etty's father and mother either died during transport to Auschwitz or were gassed immediately upon arrival. The date of death given was 10 September 1943. According to the Red Cross, Etty died at Auschwitz on 30 November 1943. Her brother Mischa died on 31 March 1944, also at Auschwitz.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 45 reviews
February 29, 2024
A relatively recent publication (the 1980s), and therefore little known, the writings of this young Jewish woman during the war should placed alongside the great spiritual initiators. With a plus: its spirituality, practicality, and progressiveness are tested in the extreme conditions of its time and directly applicable in daily life.
That's a wealth of analysis, finesse, and accuracy combined with great beauty of style.
That's a wealth of analysis, finesse, and accuracy combined with great beauty of style.
January 10, 2026
Jamais devem preocupar-se ou sentir-se tristes por mim, para mais, não me ajudariam se o fizessem.
Quando li “Bach” de Pedro Eiras, o capítulo que mais me comoveu dizia respeito a Etty Hillesum, judia holandesa morta num campo de extermínio em 1943, autora de diários e destas “Cartas 1941-1943”. Por pura exaustão, já raramente leio sobre o Holocausto, mas abri uma excepção para esta mulher tão decidida e estóica, capaz de admirar as flores silvestres dentro de um campo transitório...
Certa noite de Verão, estava a comer couve-roxa junto do campo de tremoceiros-amarelos que se estendia do nosso refeitório até ao barracão das desinfestações e, numa inspiração repentina, achei que alguém devia escrever as "Crónicas de Westerbok”. Um homem mais velho, à minha esquerda respondeu: “Sim, mas, para isso, era necessário ser-se um grande poeta.” Ele tem razão, era necessário ser-se um grande poeta; porque pequenos artigos jornalísticos já não servem.
...de prezar as amizades até ao fim, de escrever cartas cheias de espontaneidade e de encaminhar com gentileza os outros judeus destinados à solução final, já que pertencia ao Comité Judaico no campo de Westerbrok.
Deambulo pelo campo e descubro eu própria as minhas tarefas. Esta manhã, conversei durante 5 minutos com uma mulher vinda de Vught que em 3 me pôs ao corrente das suas vivências nos últimos tempos. Tanto que pode ser dito em tão pouco tempo. Ao chegar a uma porta pela qual eu já não estava autorizada a passar, abraçou-me e disse: “Obrigada pelo apoio que me deu.”
Até que também o seu dia chegou.
Esta compilação de cartas enviadas e recebidas por Etty já depois da invasão da Holanda pelos nazis revela um exaustivo trabalho de pesquisa por parte da editora, em que os destinatários, a maioria das pessoas mencionadas, as datas e os eventos mais relevantes merecem uma nota de rodapé, pelo que em várias páginas elas ocupam quase tanto espaço como as missivas em si, o que às vezes acaba por distrair do corpo principal do livro. As 71 cartas que formam a primeira parte do livro surgem num crescendo de terror e tensão, em que a possibilidade de Etty ou de algum membro da sua família seguir num dos comboios semanais para a Polónia se torna cada vez maior e mais enervante, levando-me a compreender por que muitos destes detidos preferiam que chegasse depressa a sua hora de partir em vez de permanecerem nesta espera desesperante do que sabiam ser inevitável.
Mais uma vez, parte do nosso campo foi amputada. Para a semana, será outra parte. É ao que temos vindo a assistir há já mais de um ano, semana após semana. Estamos aqui com alguns milhares que restaram. Há já cerca de 100 mil holandeses da nossa raça a debater-se sob um céu desconhecido ou a apodrecer num solo desconhecido. Nada sabemos do seu destino. Talvez fiquemos a sabê-lo em breve, cada qual a seu tempo, pois será esse o fado que nos espera a todos, não duvido disso nem por um momento.
Se as pessoas fossem realmente para o céu quando morrem e se tornassem estrelas, Etty Hillesum seria a mais cintilante de todas elas. Que alma, que firmeza, que nobreza de espírito, que vida desperdiçada!
É a única forma de se poder viver a vida nos dias que correm, com amor sem predilecção pelos nossos semelhantes atormentados, sem olhar à nação, à raça ou ao credo. E quando voltei a lembrar-me disso durante um momento completamente desconsolado, pude prosseguir a minha vida, não apenas um sucedâneo da vida num campo transitório judaico durante a Segunda Guerra Mundial, como faz a maioria das pessoas aqui, mas uma vida genuína, com uma boa porção de élan, alegria e convicção e um leve pressentimento das ligações que existem e que, no fundo, acabam por tornar a vida um todo cheio de significado – mas é algo sobre o qual não se pode, por enquanto, escrever muito, por não se conhecer palavras para fazê-lo.
Quando li “Bach” de Pedro Eiras, o capítulo que mais me comoveu dizia respeito a Etty Hillesum, judia holandesa morta num campo de extermínio em 1943, autora de diários e destas “Cartas 1941-1943”. Por pura exaustão, já raramente leio sobre o Holocausto, mas abri uma excepção para esta mulher tão decidida e estóica, capaz de admirar as flores silvestres dentro de um campo transitório...
Certa noite de Verão, estava a comer couve-roxa junto do campo de tremoceiros-amarelos que se estendia do nosso refeitório até ao barracão das desinfestações e, numa inspiração repentina, achei que alguém devia escrever as "Crónicas de Westerbok”. Um homem mais velho, à minha esquerda respondeu: “Sim, mas, para isso, era necessário ser-se um grande poeta.” Ele tem razão, era necessário ser-se um grande poeta; porque pequenos artigos jornalísticos já não servem.
...de prezar as amizades até ao fim, de escrever cartas cheias de espontaneidade e de encaminhar com gentileza os outros judeus destinados à solução final, já que pertencia ao Comité Judaico no campo de Westerbrok.
Deambulo pelo campo e descubro eu própria as minhas tarefas. Esta manhã, conversei durante 5 minutos com uma mulher vinda de Vught que em 3 me pôs ao corrente das suas vivências nos últimos tempos. Tanto que pode ser dito em tão pouco tempo. Ao chegar a uma porta pela qual eu já não estava autorizada a passar, abraçou-me e disse: “Obrigada pelo apoio que me deu.”
Até que também o seu dia chegou.
Esta compilação de cartas enviadas e recebidas por Etty já depois da invasão da Holanda pelos nazis revela um exaustivo trabalho de pesquisa por parte da editora, em que os destinatários, a maioria das pessoas mencionadas, as datas e os eventos mais relevantes merecem uma nota de rodapé, pelo que em várias páginas elas ocupam quase tanto espaço como as missivas em si, o que às vezes acaba por distrair do corpo principal do livro. As 71 cartas que formam a primeira parte do livro surgem num crescendo de terror e tensão, em que a possibilidade de Etty ou de algum membro da sua família seguir num dos comboios semanais para a Polónia se torna cada vez maior e mais enervante, levando-me a compreender por que muitos destes detidos preferiam que chegasse depressa a sua hora de partir em vez de permanecerem nesta espera desesperante do que sabiam ser inevitável.
Mais uma vez, parte do nosso campo foi amputada. Para a semana, será outra parte. É ao que temos vindo a assistir há já mais de um ano, semana após semana. Estamos aqui com alguns milhares que restaram. Há já cerca de 100 mil holandeses da nossa raça a debater-se sob um céu desconhecido ou a apodrecer num solo desconhecido. Nada sabemos do seu destino. Talvez fiquemos a sabê-lo em breve, cada qual a seu tempo, pois será esse o fado que nos espera a todos, não duvido disso nem por um momento.
Se as pessoas fossem realmente para o céu quando morrem e se tornassem estrelas, Etty Hillesum seria a mais cintilante de todas elas. Que alma, que firmeza, que nobreza de espírito, que vida desperdiçada!
É a única forma de se poder viver a vida nos dias que correm, com amor sem predilecção pelos nossos semelhantes atormentados, sem olhar à nação, à raça ou ao credo. E quando voltei a lembrar-me disso durante um momento completamente desconsolado, pude prosseguir a minha vida, não apenas um sucedâneo da vida num campo transitório judaico durante a Segunda Guerra Mundial, como faz a maioria das pessoas aqui, mas uma vida genuína, com uma boa porção de élan, alegria e convicção e um leve pressentimento das ligações que existem e que, no fundo, acabam por tornar a vida um todo cheio de significado – mas é algo sobre o qual não se pode, por enquanto, escrever muito, por não se conhecer palavras para fazê-lo.
January 14, 2019
(review in English below)
Quando uma amiga me emprestou este livro, pensei: "Cartas? Cartas verdadeiras? [já li vários livros em forma epistolar, mas de ficção] Isto não será um pouco aborrecido?"
Não poderia estar mais enganada!
Etty Hillesum era uma pessoa especial, luminosa, e isso transparece nas cartas que escrevia para os amigos. Estas assumem uma importância acrescida quando sabemos que Etty era uma judia holandesa e que a maioria das cartas que compõem este livro se relacionam com a sua experiência no campo de Westerbork, antes de ser deportada para Auschwitz, onde morreu em Novembro de 1943.
Longe de ser uma leitura deprimente, o que seria expectável, dadas as circunstâncias (Westerbork era um campo localizado numa charneca isolada para onde eram levados os judeus holandeses e de onde eram depois deportados para a Polónia), as cartas de Etty são constantes elogios à vida, mesmo quando a situação se torna desesperada.
Apenas numa das cartas parece que Etty se vai abaixo: a 24 de agosto de 1943 ela escreve "Depois desta noite, houve um momento em que senti seriamente que, de futuro, seria pecado voltar alguma vez a rir."
Acho que teria gostado muito de conhecer Etty Hillesum. E fiquei com vontade de ler os seus diários.
When a friend of mine lent me this book, I thought: "Letters? Real letters? [I've read some epistolar books, but fiction ones] Won't this be a bit boring?"
I couldn't have been more wrong!
Etty Hillesum was a special, luminous person, and this transpires through the letters she wrote to her friends. These take on a bigger role when we know that Etty was a Dutch jewish and that most of the letters included in this book are connected to her experience in the Westerbork camp, before she was deported to Auschwitz, where she died in November 1943.
Far from being a depressing reading, which one should expect, given the circumstances (Westerbork was a camp located in an isolated moorland, to where Dutch jews were taken, to be later deported to Poland), Etty's letters are a constant praise to life, even when the situation becomes desperate.
Only in one of her letters Etty appears to be dispirited: on August 24th 1943 she writes "After tonight, there was a moment when I truly felt that, in the future, it would be a sin to ever laugh again."
I think I would've loved to meet Etty Hillesum. And now I want to read her diaries.
Quando uma amiga me emprestou este livro, pensei: "Cartas? Cartas verdadeiras? [já li vários livros em forma epistolar, mas de ficção] Isto não será um pouco aborrecido?"
Não poderia estar mais enganada!
Etty Hillesum era uma pessoa especial, luminosa, e isso transparece nas cartas que escrevia para os amigos. Estas assumem uma importância acrescida quando sabemos que Etty era uma judia holandesa e que a maioria das cartas que compõem este livro se relacionam com a sua experiência no campo de Westerbork, antes de ser deportada para Auschwitz, onde morreu em Novembro de 1943.
Longe de ser uma leitura deprimente, o que seria expectável, dadas as circunstâncias (Westerbork era um campo localizado numa charneca isolada para onde eram levados os judeus holandeses e de onde eram depois deportados para a Polónia), as cartas de Etty são constantes elogios à vida, mesmo quando a situação se torna desesperada.
Apenas numa das cartas parece que Etty se vai abaixo: a 24 de agosto de 1943 ela escreve "Depois desta noite, houve um momento em que senti seriamente que, de futuro, seria pecado voltar alguma vez a rir."
Acho que teria gostado muito de conhecer Etty Hillesum. E fiquei com vontade de ler os seus diários.
When a friend of mine lent me this book, I thought: "Letters? Real letters? [I've read some epistolar books, but fiction ones] Won't this be a bit boring?"
I couldn't have been more wrong!
Etty Hillesum was a special, luminous person, and this transpires through the letters she wrote to her friends. These take on a bigger role when we know that Etty was a Dutch jewish and that most of the letters included in this book are connected to her experience in the Westerbork camp, before she was deported to Auschwitz, where she died in November 1943.
Far from being a depressing reading, which one should expect, given the circumstances (Westerbork was a camp located in an isolated moorland, to where Dutch jews were taken, to be later deported to Poland), Etty's letters are a constant praise to life, even when the situation becomes desperate.
Only in one of her letters Etty appears to be dispirited: on August 24th 1943 she writes "After tonight, there was a moment when I truly felt that, in the future, it would be a sin to ever laugh again."
I think I would've loved to meet Etty Hillesum. And now I want to read her diaries.
February 2, 2018
“Peccato, peccato che tu non fossi qui: ho appena concluso una conversazione così appassionante con te su materialismo e realtà”.
L'unicità dell'impatto con Etty non mi risulta da ciò che scrive (che è immenso). Nemmeno dal suo modo di farlo.
Ciò che me la rende imparagonabile è il fatto che i suoi scritti e il suo scrivere non sono derivazione o deriva agghiacciata dei tragitti (volontari) dalle strade blindate di Amsterdam ai terrapieni spinati della brughiera di Westerbork fino ai binari per Auschwitz. Non scrive perché le è toccato in sorte l'inferno. Al contrario: le tocca in sorte l'inferno perché scrive. E scrive (lei) perché 'è scritta' (direbbe, forse, Jabés) e vuole che la realtà (la Realtà) sia semplicemente precisa, con lei.
"Che ne è dei lupini gialli? Si rivedono già?".
(Etty, ma ancora una letterina minuscola, piccola, poco impegnativa? Una sola.
Non so: un monogramma, un monosillabo, un monito.
È una supplica).
L'unicità dell'impatto con Etty non mi risulta da ciò che scrive (che è immenso). Nemmeno dal suo modo di farlo.
Ciò che me la rende imparagonabile è il fatto che i suoi scritti e il suo scrivere non sono derivazione o deriva agghiacciata dei tragitti (volontari) dalle strade blindate di Amsterdam ai terrapieni spinati della brughiera di Westerbork fino ai binari per Auschwitz. Non scrive perché le è toccato in sorte l'inferno. Al contrario: le tocca in sorte l'inferno perché scrive. E scrive (lei) perché 'è scritta' (direbbe, forse, Jabés) e vuole che la realtà (la Realtà) sia semplicemente precisa, con lei.
"Che ne è dei lupini gialli? Si rivedono già?".
(Etty, ma ancora una letterina minuscola, piccola, poco impegnativa? Una sola.
Non so: un monogramma, un monosillabo, un monito.
È una supplica).
July 12, 2019
"Volevo solo dire questo: la miseria che c'è qui è davvero terribile - eppure, alla sera tardi, quando il giorno si è inabissato dietro di noi, mi capita spesso di camminare di buon passo lungo il filo spinato, e allora dal mio cuore si alza sempre una voce - non ci posso far niente, è così, è di una forza elementare, e questa voce dice: la vita è una cosa splendida e grande, più tardi dovremo costruire un mondo completamente nuovo"⠀
.⠀
Se con il suo Diario Etty ci lascia in dono la testimonianza del farsi della sua Anima, con queste lettere ci tramanda un'importantissima, viva e precisa testimonianza sul terribile momento storico dei campi di concentramento e della deportazione. ⠀
.⠀
Scritte nel lungo periodo passato da Etty nel campo di transito di Westerbork le lettere raccontano la vita nel campo, l'organizzazione delle baracche, la pena dei numerosi convogli di deportati in arrivo e in partenza, gli umori e le paure delle persone incrociate da Etty e di Etty stessa. ⠀
.⠀
Etty lascerà Westerbork il 7 Settembre 1943 salendo, con la sua famiglia, su un treno diretto ad Auschwitz dove morirà il 30 Novembre 1943.⠀
Da quel treno Etty riuscirà a gettare un'ultima cartolina ⠀
"abbiamo lasciato il campo cantando"⠀
.⠀
Una lettura dura, quella delle lettere. Ma doverosa. Essenziale. ⠀
Sempre piena del grande Spirito di Etty e della sua certezza della bontà e della bellezza della vita sempre e comunque. ⠀
.⠀
Se con il suo Diario Etty ci lascia in dono la testimonianza del farsi della sua Anima, con queste lettere ci tramanda un'importantissima, viva e precisa testimonianza sul terribile momento storico dei campi di concentramento e della deportazione. ⠀
.⠀
Scritte nel lungo periodo passato da Etty nel campo di transito di Westerbork le lettere raccontano la vita nel campo, l'organizzazione delle baracche, la pena dei numerosi convogli di deportati in arrivo e in partenza, gli umori e le paure delle persone incrociate da Etty e di Etty stessa. ⠀
.⠀
Etty lascerà Westerbork il 7 Settembre 1943 salendo, con la sua famiglia, su un treno diretto ad Auschwitz dove morirà il 30 Novembre 1943.⠀
Da quel treno Etty riuscirà a gettare un'ultima cartolina ⠀
"abbiamo lasciato il campo cantando"⠀
.⠀
Una lettura dura, quella delle lettere. Ma doverosa. Essenziale. ⠀
Sempre piena del grande Spirito di Etty e della sua certezza della bontà e della bellezza della vita sempre e comunque. ⠀
May 2, 2020
La miseria che c'è qui è veramente terribile - eppure, alla sera tardi, quando il giorno si è inabissato dietro di noi, mi capita spesso di camminare di buon passo lungo il filo spinato, e allora dal mio cuore si innalza sempre una voce - non ci posso far niente, è così, è di una forza elementare -, e questa voce dice: la vita è una cosa splendida e grande, più tardi dovremo costruire un mondo completamente nuovo. A ogni nuovo crimine o orrore dovremo opporre un nuovo pezzetto di amaro e di bontà che avremo conquistato in noi stessi. Possiamo soffrire ma non dobbiamo soccombere. E se sopravviveremo intatti a questo tempo, corpo e anima ma soprattutto anima, senza amarezza, senza odio, allora avremo anche il diritto di dire la nostra parola a guerra finita- Forse io sono una donna ambiziosa: vorrei dire anch'io una piccola parolina. (Pag. 87)
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April 4, 2024
“Ik wilde alleen maar dit zeggen: de ellende is werkelijk groot en toch loop ik dikwijls, later op de avond, als de dag achter je in een diepte weggezonken is, met een veerkrachtige pas langs het prikkeldraad en dan stijgt er altijd weer uit m’n hart naar boven – ik kan er niets aan doen, het is nu eenmaal zo, het is van een elementaire kracht -: dit leven is iets prachtigs en iets groots, we moeten nog een hele nieuwe wereld opbouwen later – en tegen iedere wandaad te meer en gruwelijkheid te meer hebben wij een stukje liefde en goedheid te meer tegenover te stellen, dat we in onszelf veroveren moeten.”
— Etty Hillesum
— Etty Hillesum
June 25, 2025
Un’alternativa di diario sulla Shoah rispetto ad Anna Frank. Da leggere con calma, una pagina di diario alla volta. Non lo so, sicuramente una forza interiore enorme, un po’ vorrei la sua energia per recepire e accettare le cose da una prospettiva così diversa. Ma forse bisogna caricarsi di un’energia mistica e religiosa grossissima per essere così.
May 16, 2015
Don't read this until you've read her diary, now in a book form, entitled "An Interrupted Life." Of course, you do not have to buy these separately. Buy the one like mine, with both of them in one volume. But if you're catching up with your Reading challenge backlog, it'd be wise to review them separately like what I've done.
Westerbork was a transit point put up by the Nazis before the Jews' eventual transport (by trains) to concentration camps in Poland. They "process" the Jews there, confiscating properties they could get, screening out people with special talents they could use, choosing which ones are deserving of being sent to Poland first, and those for the next batch, and the next. Not to take away anything from Etty Hillesum's heroism and seemingly boundless faith and optimism but I noticed that both here and in her diaries it seemed she was not really aware (like those of her friends and relatives) that Poland, after the transport by train, was really death. She wrote (in her diary) of a rumor that the Germans were really gassing people but it was in a tone of her taking it as a tall, improbable tale.
I couldn't sleep after finishing this. Etty Hillesum was full of life and her photo at the cover stares at you like you and her are just sitting at Starbucks and with a cigarette in her hand she's telling you what has happened to her. And more photos inside: her family--two brothers, her father and mother--not one of them survived.
She, her younger brother Mischa and their parents were loaded in a train bound for Poland on 7 September 1943. She managed to scribble one final letter in a card which she threw away outside as the train rumbled on, someone picked it up and mailed it on 15 September 1943 to the addressee, her friend Christine. It reads:
"Opening the Bible at random I find this: 'The Lord is my high tower.' I am sitting on my rucksack in the middle of a full freight car. Father, mother, and Mischa are a few cars away. In the end, the departure came without warning. On sudden special orders from The Hague. We left the camp singing, Father and Mother firmly and calmly, Mischa too. We shall be traveling for three days. Thank you for all your kindness and care. Friends left behind will still be writing to Amsterdam; perhaps you will hear something from them. Or from my last letter from camp.
Good-bye for now from the four of us.
Etty."
Her parents were immediately gassed upon arrival at Auschwitz. Etty died there on 30 November 1943.
Westerbork was a transit point put up by the Nazis before the Jews' eventual transport (by trains) to concentration camps in Poland. They "process" the Jews there, confiscating properties they could get, screening out people with special talents they could use, choosing which ones are deserving of being sent to Poland first, and those for the next batch, and the next. Not to take away anything from Etty Hillesum's heroism and seemingly boundless faith and optimism but I noticed that both here and in her diaries it seemed she was not really aware (like those of her friends and relatives) that Poland, after the transport by train, was really death. She wrote (in her diary) of a rumor that the Germans were really gassing people but it was in a tone of her taking it as a tall, improbable tale.
I couldn't sleep after finishing this. Etty Hillesum was full of life and her photo at the cover stares at you like you and her are just sitting at Starbucks and with a cigarette in her hand she's telling you what has happened to her. And more photos inside: her family--two brothers, her father and mother--not one of them survived.
She, her younger brother Mischa and their parents were loaded in a train bound for Poland on 7 September 1943. She managed to scribble one final letter in a card which she threw away outside as the train rumbled on, someone picked it up and mailed it on 15 September 1943 to the addressee, her friend Christine. It reads:
"Opening the Bible at random I find this: 'The Lord is my high tower.' I am sitting on my rucksack in the middle of a full freight car. Father, mother, and Mischa are a few cars away. In the end, the departure came without warning. On sudden special orders from The Hague. We left the camp singing, Father and Mother firmly and calmly, Mischa too. We shall be traveling for three days. Thank you for all your kindness and care. Friends left behind will still be writing to Amsterdam; perhaps you will hear something from them. Or from my last letter from camp.
Good-bye for now from the four of us.
Etty."
Her parents were immediately gassed upon arrival at Auschwitz. Etty died there on 30 November 1943.
June 6, 2024
Indrukwekkende brieven vanuit kamp Westerbork naar vrienden in Amsterdam en Deventer. Als lid van de Joodse Raad had Etty aanvankelijk wat meer vrijheden en probeerde anderen bij te staan. Werkte oa in het 'ziekenhuis'.
In haar brieven vertelde ze vrienden over het kamp als 'een dwanggemeenschap, maar toch met alle aspecten die een mensenmaatschappij hebben kan. Anderzijds is het een kamp voor een volk op doortocht en zijn er voortdurend grote deiningen wanneer de mensenmassa's er binnenspoelen, uit de grote steden en uit de provincie, uit rusthuizen, uit gevangenissen en strafkampen, uit alle hoeken en gaten van Nederland, om enige dagen later verder gedeporteerd te worden, hun onbekende stemming tegemoet.'
Ze beschrijft huiveringwekkende situaties, bv een baby die als strafgeval binnenkomt en daarom niet naar buiten mag. Oude en zieke mensen die op een brancard de transporttrein ingaan en daar op een papieren matras neergelegd worden, een moeder die haar kind aanspoort te eten: 'anders moet je zonder mammie op transport'.
Het zijn vaak fragmentarische teksten, ze heeft vaak geen tijd om te schrijven. Wat zo bijzonder is: ze blijft steeds positief, kent geen haat, schrijft dat het haar goed gaat en ze vindt troost in de Bijbel.
Haar laatste tekst staat op een, in september 1943, uit de trein gegooide kaart 'We hebben zingende het kamp verlaten, vader en moeder zeer flink en rustig. Mischa eveneens. We zullen drie dagen reizen. Dank voor al jullie goede zorgen. Tot ziens van ons vieren. Etty.'
Kippenvel
In haar brieven vertelde ze vrienden over het kamp als 'een dwanggemeenschap, maar toch met alle aspecten die een mensenmaatschappij hebben kan. Anderzijds is het een kamp voor een volk op doortocht en zijn er voortdurend grote deiningen wanneer de mensenmassa's er binnenspoelen, uit de grote steden en uit de provincie, uit rusthuizen, uit gevangenissen en strafkampen, uit alle hoeken en gaten van Nederland, om enige dagen later verder gedeporteerd te worden, hun onbekende stemming tegemoet.'
Ze beschrijft huiveringwekkende situaties, bv een baby die als strafgeval binnenkomt en daarom niet naar buiten mag. Oude en zieke mensen die op een brancard de transporttrein ingaan en daar op een papieren matras neergelegd worden, een moeder die haar kind aanspoort te eten: 'anders moet je zonder mammie op transport'.
Het zijn vaak fragmentarische teksten, ze heeft vaak geen tijd om te schrijven. Wat zo bijzonder is: ze blijft steeds positief, kent geen haat, schrijft dat het haar goed gaat en ze vindt troost in de Bijbel.
Haar laatste tekst staat op een, in september 1943, uit de trein gegooide kaart 'We hebben zingende het kamp verlaten, vader en moeder zeer flink en rustig. Mischa eveneens. We zullen drie dagen reizen. Dank voor al jullie goede zorgen. Tot ziens van ons vieren. Etty.'
Kippenvel
November 3, 2016
"The sky is full of birds, the purple lupins stand up so regally and peacefully, two little old women have set down on the box for a chat, the sun is shining on my face - and right before our eyes, mass murder. The whole thing is simply beyond comprehension."
Profoundly moving, deeply unsettling. On one hand it is a series of begging letters for food, hankies, whatever - whilst on the other it is a clear account of senseless inhumanity, and of 'co-operation' with fate. It is a story of beauty and wonder in the darkest of places, and a humbling one at that - Etty, even on the transport train, is singing. The final sentence declaring her death at Auschwitz is simply heartbreaking.
Profoundly moving, deeply unsettling. On one hand it is a series of begging letters for food, hankies, whatever - whilst on the other it is a clear account of senseless inhumanity, and of 'co-operation' with fate. It is a story of beauty and wonder in the darkest of places, and a humbling one at that - Etty, even on the transport train, is singing. The final sentence declaring her death at Auschwitz is simply heartbreaking.
October 29, 2014
Rereading this book is always like opening the door to new discoveries. This is such a rich historical document, such a vivid painting of all that these people endured during the war, even those that were still relatively free until the middle of 1943...
Etty is ETTY! Herself, brilliant and creative, independent and profound, deeply mystical yet practical when it comes to protect her family or friends... She endures voluntarily the discipline and inhumanity of the transition camp of Westerbork, until the whole family is deported, on the 7th. of September, to Auschwitz - where she will die on the 30th. of November 1943.
After having reread her diary some days ago, these letters become even more alive in my imagination: the characters they portray, the scenario they depict, all contributes to make Etty's image come fully alive...
What a great soul! Her courage, her wit, her sense of humor, her love for all beings, her appreciation of Creation and the permanent dialogue with God, her inner blossoming, all contribute to make this a great spiritual book, at the same time as it stands out as a precious historic document.
This edition also has pictures of Etty and of some of her books and writings.
Absolutely a good read!
Maria Carmo,
Lisbon, 29th. October 2014.
Etty is ETTY! Herself, brilliant and creative, independent and profound, deeply mystical yet practical when it comes to protect her family or friends... She endures voluntarily the discipline and inhumanity of the transition camp of Westerbork, until the whole family is deported, on the 7th. of September, to Auschwitz - where she will die on the 30th. of November 1943.
After having reread her diary some days ago, these letters become even more alive in my imagination: the characters they portray, the scenario they depict, all contributes to make Etty's image come fully alive...
What a great soul! Her courage, her wit, her sense of humor, her love for all beings, her appreciation of Creation and the permanent dialogue with God, her inner blossoming, all contribute to make this a great spiritual book, at the same time as it stands out as a precious historic document.
This edition also has pictures of Etty and of some of her books and writings.
Absolutely a good read!
Maria Carmo,
Lisbon, 29th. October 2014.
October 26, 2012
Leggendo questo diario epistolare ho avuto la sensazione di entrare in uno spazio intimo, privato al quale non avevo accesso.
In questo diario epistolare Etty non si risparmia e ci racconta tutto ciò che ha dovuto affrontare nel breve periodo che va dal campo di Westerbock a quello di Auschwitz.
"Lettere" comprende, come recita il titolo, tutte le lettere che vanno dall'agosto 1942 al settembre 1943 che Etty scrive ai suoi amici dal campo di smistamento di Westerbock prima di essere deportata ad Auschwitz.
Queste lettere ci descrivono la Hillesum che nonostante il fetore, lo squallore, le liti per un libro, la sporcizia, ha continuato ad amare la vita, apprezzandone la bellezza.
"Eppure la vita è meravigliosamente buona nella sua inesplicabile profondità".
In questo diario epistolare Etty non si risparmia e ci racconta tutto ciò che ha dovuto affrontare nel breve periodo che va dal campo di Westerbock a quello di Auschwitz.
"Lettere" comprende, come recita il titolo, tutte le lettere che vanno dall'agosto 1942 al settembre 1943 che Etty scrive ai suoi amici dal campo di smistamento di Westerbock prima di essere deportata ad Auschwitz.
Queste lettere ci descrivono la Hillesum che nonostante il fetore, lo squallore, le liti per un libro, la sporcizia, ha continuato ad amare la vita, apprezzandone la bellezza.
"Eppure la vita è meravigliosamente buona nella sua inesplicabile profondità".
November 13, 2023
Lang geleden maar angstvallig dichtbij. Toch klimt Etty Hillesum boven dit alles uit in een veerkracht die ongezien is.
January 29, 2023
"ognuno deve prendere su di sé il destino che gli è stato assegnato".
Lettere di uno spirito riflessivo e pratico, un'anima lavorata e gentile.
Lettere di uno spirito riflessivo e pratico, un'anima lavorata e gentile.
June 3, 2023
Brieven van Etty geschreven vanuit Westerbork. Als lezer krijg je een goed beeld van de waanzin en realiteit in kamp Westerbork, gezien en verwoord door Etty Hillesum.
January 13, 2024
Indrukwekkend om in dit korte boekje van zo'n 100 bladzijden een aantal brieven te lezen van Etty Hillesum die zij vanuit Kamp Westerbork schreef. Het geeft de unieke kijk van Etty weer op het leven in de verschrikkelijke omstandigheden, haar gedachtenspinsels en filosofische diepzinnigheden.
April 6, 2025
Di alcuni scritti si può solo essere grati.
August 7, 2021
I read her journals in my teens which left a strong impression.
Almost ten years later I read Letters from Westerbrok.
Still stricken by how lucid she seems to be about their situation as well as human nature.
I will remember her constant attempts to nurture positive feelings and thoughts "Despite everything, life is full of beauty and meaning" she writes from the camp.
Especially moving I find the letter she writes describing the most difficult nights when the weekly trains depart to Poland and her awareness that she is contributing to shaping the future narrative of the war "We must keep one another in touch with everything that happens in the
various outposts of this world, each one contributing his own
little piece of stone to the great mosaic that will take shape once
the war is over"
Almost ten years later I read Letters from Westerbrok.
Still stricken by how lucid she seems to be about their situation as well as human nature.
I will remember her constant attempts to nurture positive feelings and thoughts "Despite everything, life is full of beauty and meaning" she writes from the camp.
Especially moving I find the letter she writes describing the most difficult nights when the weekly trains depart to Poland and her awareness that she is contributing to shaping the future narrative of the war "We must keep one another in touch with everything that happens in the
various outposts of this world, each one contributing his own
little piece of stone to the great mosaic that will take shape once
the war is over"
June 8, 2021
Tuto knihu jsem obdržel jako dárek od BARNAJKY. Musím upřímně říci, že jsem o této knize slyšel poprvé a také o této autorce. Knihu hodnotím na 5*.
Kniha je napsána formou dopisů, které Etty psala ze svého bytu v Amsterdamu do koncentračního tábora ve Westerborku a z Westerborku svým přátelům do Amsterdamu a Deventeru. Je určitě důležité se zmínit o tom, že Etty dobrovolně nastoupila do koncentračního tábora ve Westerborku, aby pomáhala lidem. Dopisy byly napsány v letech 1941 – 1943, poprvé byly zveřejněny až v roce 1982.
Kniha je prostoupena hlubokými myšlenkami, čtení nebylo pro mě v některých částech nejjednodušší, k některým myšlenkám jsem se znovu vracel, abych je dostatečně pochopil a vstřebal do sebe. Jak píše Magdalena Čechlovská , „k zápiskům si čtenář musí najít cestu, ale pak jsou fascinující.“ Zpočátku bylo čtení náročnější na soustředění, ale postupně jsem do jejího stylu psaní pronikl a začetl jsem se. Etty Hillesum byla žena, která se nevzdávala a bojovala a dokázala se vyrovnat s tím, v jaké situaci se ocitla. Věřila, že až bude po válce, mohou si lidé ze všeho vzít ponaučení a společnými silami se postavit proti ZLU, jež byla svědkem. Uchovala si víru a naději a tu také předávala ostatním lidem. U některých myšlenek jsem se pozastavoval a uvažoval jsem, jak by asi uvažovali lidé v její situaci, ale z druhé strany si názory dokázala obhájit a pevně argumentovat. Měla rodiče a 2 bratry. V koncentračním táboře se seznámila s řadou lidí, kteří se stali jejími přáteli. V knize pochopitelně také líčí hrůzy koncentračního tábora..
Knihu určitě doporučuji k přečtení. Je docela s podivem, že tato kniha má v Databázi knih tak málo komentářů ve srovnání s knihou DENÍK ANNY FRANKOVÉ. Určitě si tuto knihu nechám ve sbírce a uložím si ji vedle knihy DENÍK ANNY FRANKOVÉ. Časem se ke knize znovu vrátím.
Citáty z knihy, které mne oslovily:
Když si člověk myslí, že si ho ten druhý neváží dostatečně, pak je na něj vázán a tou vazbou nesamostatný. Čím méně člověk očekává, tím víc dostane.
Člověk se musí snažit, aby už nebyl tak „sebestředný“, aby každou náladu v sobě nechal vybouřit. Nemusí svůj neklid a smutek schovávat sám před sebou, musí je nést a snášet, ale nesmí se jim poddávat, jako by na světě neexistovalo nic jiného. Nesmí své nejlepší síly vydávat na pospas svým smutkům a vznětům, ale musí je uchovat – alespoň časem k tomu musí člověk dojít – teď použiju velké slovo – pro společnost.
Když se člověk naplno oddá každému smutku a neklidu, pak chce příliš silně prožít, uvědomit si sám sebe, a to nejde na dlouho.
Nejde přece o to, aby si člověk na úkor všeho zachoval život, ale o to, jak si ho člověk zachová. Někdy si myslím, že každá nová situace, ať už v dobrém, nebo špatném smyslu, v sobě přináší možnost obohacení. A když přenecháme tvrdá fakta, před něž jsme neodvolatelně postaveni, jejich osudu, když jim neposkytneme přístřeší ve svých hlavách a ve svých srdcích, aby se tam usadila a změnila ve fakta, na nichž můžeme růst a získávat z nich nějaký smysl, pak nejsme životaschopnou generací.
Lidi se hrozně vzrušují nad tisícerem malých detailů, které tady na člověka denně útočí, ztrácejí se v nich a utápějí. Proto už nehledí na velké obrysy, ztrácejí kurz a život jim připadá beze smyslu. Těch několik velkých věcí, o něž v životě jde, musí mít člověk stále na zřeteli, zbytek klidně může nechat plavat. A těch pár velkých věcí se stále vrací, člověk je pokaždé musí v sobě znovu objevit, aby se z nich mohl sám obnovit. A navzdory všemu se pokaždé dostane do stejného bodu: Život je přece dobrý, nezáleží to na Bohu, že se někdy nedaří, ale na nás samotných. A na tom trvám, i teď, i kdybych byla odeslána s celou rodinou do Polska.
… tento život je něco nádherného a velkolepého, musíme později vybudovat úplně nový svět – a proti každému zločinu navíc a hrůze navíc musíme postavit kousek lásky a dobroty navíc, kterou jsme v sobě schopni vytvořit. Můžeme trpět, ale nesmíme tomu podlehnout. A když tuto dobu přežijeme se zdravou kůží, na těle i na duši, ale hlavně na duši, bez zatrpknutí, bez nenávisti, pak budeme mít také právo na důrazné slovo po válce. Možná jsem příliš ambiciózní: Chtěla bych mít alespoň malé platné slůvko.
Tohle lidé nechtějí uznat: Že v určitém okamžiku člověk nemůže nic dělat, jen být a přijmout to. A s tím „přijmout“ jsem také začala už před dlouhým časem, ale to může člověk jen pro sebe, ne pro druhé. A proto je to tady v tuto chvíli pro mě zoufale těžké. Maminka a Mischa chtějí stále ještě něco dělat, postavit celý svět na hlavu a já jsem vůči tomu úplně bezmocná. Já nemůžu dělat nic, nikdy jsem nemohla nic dělat, já umím jen vzít věci na sebe a trpět. V tom je moje síla a je to velká síla. Ale pro mě samotnou, ne pro druhé.
Většina nedokáže nést svůj osud, nakládají tíhu na bedra druhých. A pod ní by člověk mohl klesnout, ne pod tíhou vlastního osudu. Cítím se dorostlá svému osudu, ale osudu svých rodičů ne.
Člověk se nesmí příliš věnovat smutku a starosti o vlastní rodinu, aby mu zbyla pozornost a láska k ostatním bližním. Stále víc se přikláním k názoru, že láska ke každému náhodnému bližnímu, ke každému obrazu Božímu, musí vystoupit nad lásku krevního pouta. Nechápejte mě prosím špatně. Říká se, že to je proti přírodě… mám pocit, že je pro mě příliš těžké o tom psát, zatímco používat to je snadné.
Kniha je napsána formou dopisů, které Etty psala ze svého bytu v Amsterdamu do koncentračního tábora ve Westerborku a z Westerborku svým přátelům do Amsterdamu a Deventeru. Je určitě důležité se zmínit o tom, že Etty dobrovolně nastoupila do koncentračního tábora ve Westerborku, aby pomáhala lidem. Dopisy byly napsány v letech 1941 – 1943, poprvé byly zveřejněny až v roce 1982.
Kniha je prostoupena hlubokými myšlenkami, čtení nebylo pro mě v některých částech nejjednodušší, k některým myšlenkám jsem se znovu vracel, abych je dostatečně pochopil a vstřebal do sebe. Jak píše Magdalena Čechlovská , „k zápiskům si čtenář musí najít cestu, ale pak jsou fascinující.“ Zpočátku bylo čtení náročnější na soustředění, ale postupně jsem do jejího stylu psaní pronikl a začetl jsem se. Etty Hillesum byla žena, která se nevzdávala a bojovala a dokázala se vyrovnat s tím, v jaké situaci se ocitla. Věřila, že až bude po válce, mohou si lidé ze všeho vzít ponaučení a společnými silami se postavit proti ZLU, jež byla svědkem. Uchovala si víru a naději a tu také předávala ostatním lidem. U některých myšlenek jsem se pozastavoval a uvažoval jsem, jak by asi uvažovali lidé v její situaci, ale z druhé strany si názory dokázala obhájit a pevně argumentovat. Měla rodiče a 2 bratry. V koncentračním táboře se seznámila s řadou lidí, kteří se stali jejími přáteli. V knize pochopitelně také líčí hrůzy koncentračního tábora..
Knihu určitě doporučuji k přečtení. Je docela s podivem, že tato kniha má v Databázi knih tak málo komentářů ve srovnání s knihou DENÍK ANNY FRANKOVÉ. Určitě si tuto knihu nechám ve sbírce a uložím si ji vedle knihy DENÍK ANNY FRANKOVÉ. Časem se ke knize znovu vrátím.
Citáty z knihy, které mne oslovily:
Když si člověk myslí, že si ho ten druhý neváží dostatečně, pak je na něj vázán a tou vazbou nesamostatný. Čím méně člověk očekává, tím víc dostane.
Člověk se musí snažit, aby už nebyl tak „sebestředný“, aby každou náladu v sobě nechal vybouřit. Nemusí svůj neklid a smutek schovávat sám před sebou, musí je nést a snášet, ale nesmí se jim poddávat, jako by na světě neexistovalo nic jiného. Nesmí své nejlepší síly vydávat na pospas svým smutkům a vznětům, ale musí je uchovat – alespoň časem k tomu musí člověk dojít – teď použiju velké slovo – pro společnost.
Když se člověk naplno oddá každému smutku a neklidu, pak chce příliš silně prožít, uvědomit si sám sebe, a to nejde na dlouho.
Nejde přece o to, aby si člověk na úkor všeho zachoval život, ale o to, jak si ho člověk zachová. Někdy si myslím, že každá nová situace, ať už v dobrém, nebo špatném smyslu, v sobě přináší možnost obohacení. A když přenecháme tvrdá fakta, před něž jsme neodvolatelně postaveni, jejich osudu, když jim neposkytneme přístřeší ve svých hlavách a ve svých srdcích, aby se tam usadila a změnila ve fakta, na nichž můžeme růst a získávat z nich nějaký smysl, pak nejsme životaschopnou generací.
Lidi se hrozně vzrušují nad tisícerem malých detailů, které tady na člověka denně útočí, ztrácejí se v nich a utápějí. Proto už nehledí na velké obrysy, ztrácejí kurz a život jim připadá beze smyslu. Těch několik velkých věcí, o něž v životě jde, musí mít člověk stále na zřeteli, zbytek klidně může nechat plavat. A těch pár velkých věcí se stále vrací, člověk je pokaždé musí v sobě znovu objevit, aby se z nich mohl sám obnovit. A navzdory všemu se pokaždé dostane do stejného bodu: Život je přece dobrý, nezáleží to na Bohu, že se někdy nedaří, ale na nás samotných. A na tom trvám, i teď, i kdybych byla odeslána s celou rodinou do Polska.
… tento život je něco nádherného a velkolepého, musíme později vybudovat úplně nový svět – a proti každému zločinu navíc a hrůze navíc musíme postavit kousek lásky a dobroty navíc, kterou jsme v sobě schopni vytvořit. Můžeme trpět, ale nesmíme tomu podlehnout. A když tuto dobu přežijeme se zdravou kůží, na těle i na duši, ale hlavně na duši, bez zatrpknutí, bez nenávisti, pak budeme mít také právo na důrazné slovo po válce. Možná jsem příliš ambiciózní: Chtěla bych mít alespoň malé platné slůvko.
Tohle lidé nechtějí uznat: Že v určitém okamžiku člověk nemůže nic dělat, jen být a přijmout to. A s tím „přijmout“ jsem také začala už před dlouhým časem, ale to může člověk jen pro sebe, ne pro druhé. A proto je to tady v tuto chvíli pro mě zoufale těžké. Maminka a Mischa chtějí stále ještě něco dělat, postavit celý svět na hlavu a já jsem vůči tomu úplně bezmocná. Já nemůžu dělat nic, nikdy jsem nemohla nic dělat, já umím jen vzít věci na sebe a trpět. V tom je moje síla a je to velká síla. Ale pro mě samotnou, ne pro druhé.
Většina nedokáže nést svůj osud, nakládají tíhu na bedra druhých. A pod ní by člověk mohl klesnout, ne pod tíhou vlastního osudu. Cítím se dorostlá svému osudu, ale osudu svých rodičů ne.
Člověk se nesmí příliš věnovat smutku a starosti o vlastní rodinu, aby mu zbyla pozornost a láska k ostatním bližním. Stále víc se přikláním k názoru, že láska ke každému náhodnému bližnímu, ke každému obrazu Božímu, musí vystoupit nad lásku krevního pouta. Nechápejte mě prosím špatně. Říká se, že to je proti přírodě… mám pocit, že je pro mě příliš těžké o tom psát, zatímco používat to je snadné.
February 16, 2020
«Volevo solo dire questo: la miseria che c'è qui è veramente terribile - eppure, alla sera tardi, quando il giorno si è inabissato dietro di noi, mi capita spesso di camminare di buon passo lungo il filo spinato, e allora dal mio cuore di innalza sempre una voce - non ci posso fare niente, è così, è di una forza elementare -, e questa voce dice: la vita è una cosa splendida e grande, più tardi dovremo costruire un mondo completamente nuovo. A ogni nuovo crimine o orrore dovremo opporre un nuovo pezzetto di amore e di bontà che avremo conquistato in noi stessi. Possiamo soffrire ma non dobbiamo soccombere. E se sopravviveremo intatti a questo tempo, corpo e anima ma soprattutto anima, senza amarezza, senza odio, allora avremo anche il diritto di dire la nostra parola a guerra finita.»
Le lettere scritte da Etty sono spesso difficili da leggere, come è difficile leggere tutto ciò che mostra una realtà passata o presente che vorremmo dimenticare - ma che non dobbiamo dimenticare. E per questo è un libro da leggere, da ricordare e da capire.
Non solo perché rappresenta il vissuto in prima persona di una donna che ha vissuto in un campo di smistamento, ma per la donna incredibile che era Etty. È difficile spiegarlo, perché lo si capisce leggendo le sue lettere (e probabilmente anche il suo diario, che devo recuperare).
Etty parla spesso dell'amore per la vita, dei paradossi che vede ogni giorno, della forza che osserva in tante persone che la circondano, e soprattutto dell'importanza di capire, di pensare, di ricordare ciò che sta accadendo; di non limitarsi a sopravvivere.
Molto, molto bello.
Le lettere scritte da Etty sono spesso difficili da leggere, come è difficile leggere tutto ciò che mostra una realtà passata o presente che vorremmo dimenticare - ma che non dobbiamo dimenticare. E per questo è un libro da leggere, da ricordare e da capire.
Non solo perché rappresenta il vissuto in prima persona di una donna che ha vissuto in un campo di smistamento, ma per la donna incredibile che era Etty. È difficile spiegarlo, perché lo si capisce leggendo le sue lettere (e probabilmente anche il suo diario, che devo recuperare).
Etty parla spesso dell'amore per la vita, dei paradossi che vede ogni giorno, della forza che osserva in tante persone che la circondano, e soprattutto dell'importanza di capire, di pensare, di ricordare ciò che sta accadendo; di non limitarsi a sopravvivere.
Molto, molto bello.
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July 18, 2020Dit zijn de brieven die Etty Hillesium vanuit kamp Westerbork stuurde in de periode voorafgaand aan haar deportatie naar Auschwitz. Het is een vreemde gewaarwording om ze te lezen, vooral omdat deze brieven natuurlijk nooit met het oog op publicatie zijn geschreven - en Goodreads doodleuk om een score in sterren vraagt nu ik het uit heb. Laten we dat maar achterwege laten...
‘Ik merk dat in iedere situatie, ook in de moeilijkste, de mens nieuwe organen toegroeien, waardoor hij toch weer leven kan. Wat dat betreft is God barmhartig genoeg. En voor de rest: verschillende zelfmoorden vannacht voor het transport, met scheermesjes en zo.’
‘Ik merk dat in iedere situatie, ook in de moeilijkste, de mens nieuwe organen toegroeien, waardoor hij toch weer leven kan. Wat dat betreft is God barmhartig genoeg. En voor de rest: verschillende zelfmoorden vannacht voor het transport, met scheermesjes en zo.’
June 28, 2022
Le Lettere seguono cronologicamente il Diario di Etty. Quando le scrive si trova a Westerbork, un “campo di smistamento” in Olanda, dove lei resta fino al 7 settembre 1943 quando viene deportata per raggiungere poi Auschwitz.
Nel Diario gli accenni alla situazione degli ebrei sono pochi, mentre qui sono poche le riflessioni filosofeggianti di Etty ma è dettagliatissimo il resoconto sulla orribile situazione nel campo, dove lei mantiene nonostante tutto un atteggiamento positivo, non di abbattimento, ma di riconoscenza verso la vita.
Grazie Etty.
Nel Diario gli accenni alla situazione degli ebrei sono pochi, mentre qui sono poche le riflessioni filosofeggianti di Etty ma è dettagliatissimo il resoconto sulla orribile situazione nel campo, dove lei mantiene nonostante tutto un atteggiamento positivo, non di abbattimento, ma di riconoscenza verso la vita.
Grazie Etty.
December 24, 2022
De brieven van Etty Hillesum zijn zo fantastisch mooi, diepgaand, pijnlijk en ontroerend. In een tijd van vergetelheid, van een gebrek aan erkenning van de Nederlandse rol in de Holocaust, maar ook in een tijd waarin de maatschappij de hoop in de toekomst en het geloof in iets veel groters dan de mens bewust aan het verliezen is zijn de geschriften van Etty belangrijker dan ooit. Eigenlijk zouden ze door iedere Nederlander moeten worden gelezen.
Ik ben zo dankbaar voor haar brieven die mijn leven zoveel rijker en diepgaander heeft gemaakt.
Ik ben zo dankbaar voor haar brieven die mijn leven zoveel rijker en diepgaander heeft gemaakt.
June 26, 2018
Ho incontrato un'amica attraverso la lettura delle sue lettere. Etty mi ha colpito il cuore con la sua gioia di vivere e la bellezza del suo animo. Grazie, Etty per la tua testimonianza importante e di vero Amore.
March 23, 2019
Sembra quasi che mandi un grido di liberazione quando esclama, accompagnandosi con un largo gesto del braccio: "Sono pronta a fare il grande viaggio, forse ritroverò mio marito". Una donna di fronte a lei s'intromette amaramente: "Anch'io devo partire, ma pronta non sono".
September 19, 2019
Una donna eccezionale, una lettura necessaria, stralci di luce in un periodo di buio totale. Stile dimesso ma fortemente evocativo ed efficace. Una fonte d’ispirazione, un’educazione sentimentale, morale e politica
February 15, 2023
Sono lettere strazianti che fa capire come si sentivano gli ebrei in quel periodo di deportazione nel campo di Westerbork, che ci hanno permesso di udire la voce Etty fino quando non la spediscono ad Auschwitz dove morirà
July 14, 2019
Un diario, un vero e proprio inno alla vita.
September 13, 2019
Bellissimo, Etty, un’anima potente e profonda, scrive un diario pieno di VITA poco tempo prima della sua deportazione. Le sue riflessioni sono meravigliose.
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