A wonderful book. It read much as i imagine the diary of a woman like Zabelle might actually read. She allowed herself to feel, a bit, what she actually felt deeply, hugely; because had she allowed herself that real emotional latitude, life's pains, disappointments, disasters, dearths would have been lethal. She was a survivor; first of the Armenian Genocide - hers of 1916 - but it went on for years - taking somewhere from 1-1.5 million Armenians, previously living at peace for untold generations in the Ottoman Empire. But then, as now, when lives, governments, situations become, or seem to become, more difficult, some majorities blame random minorities - even if they had been friends or neighbors last week. Many sensible become afraid, and the bully - the Turk, the (1938) German, the Trump, take charge.
At her death, her children know nothing, apparently, about what she had been through. She either chose not to tell them, or was waiting for them to ask, and they never did. This is such clear contradistinction to friends of mine who are the children of survivors of other genocide attempts / holocausts, whose parents seemingly never let the sun set without reminding them of their alleged duties as the offspring of survivors to..what? make up for the millions lost? This crippling pressure never seemed anything but a burden for my friends to overcome. So where is the balance between learning one's history and burdening the next generation with unhealthy and unrealistic expectations?
Like most survivors, Zabelle rolled with what came - she took the Turkish name she was given, but was happy to be rescued and re-Armenian-ified. She married, sight unseen and was shipped to the USA to live a difficult life - again, tolerating and finding her level of survival in a honest way. A huge disappointment was her eldest son. Typical was this beautiful insight about her son who is embarrassed of her, avoids her: “What can you do? They spend a small time in your body, a small time in your arms, and a lifetime walking away...There was a small room that I visited once in awhile in the house of memory where he remained.”
As i try to learn important parts of history that were redacted from my state education -both the beautiful, but heartbreaking "Birds Without Wings" and this sweet book are important notes of the horrible Armenian genocide.