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bookwormAtNight

StitchersGirl

"It is what you read when you don't have to that determines what you will be when you can't help it." - Oscar Wilde

Excuse my French, but FUCK NO.

Schadenfreude - XIX, 19

Erich Kass has a safe gray life in Berlin until he is arrested
by the Gestapo for kissing another boy.

The Hell he finds in Auschwitz as the property of Dr. Ahren Kaltherzig will destroy everything he thinks he knows
about life and safety.

 

 

 

Never going to touch it. Not with a ten-foot pole. Because the thing is... No.

 

There are boundaries. I have personal limitations based on my life experiences and my own personal moral code. I worked in Auschwitz as a volunteer. I had the honor of meeting and talking to three survivors for hours. And the blurb of this books alone makes me feel violated on many different levels. And no, I couldn't care less how well it's written, how great the psychological aspect is or how dark fiction is a thing one is allowed to like.

I don't have a problem with dark fiction, although I don't prefer it genre-wise. I also don't have a problem with massive mindfucks. I'm a firm believer in "Whatever floats your boat". However, every time I look at this thing, it comes down to boundaries again. The author could have used literally every scenario on this planet or another. Literally. Make it an alternative universe, tell me you're writing your own history of your own world. Make it a COMPLETE work of fiction. I wouldn't say a thing. But this blurb and the reviews I've read leave me with one very, VERY disturbing impression.

Somebody just wrote a fanfic about Mengele et al. And people are liking it because it's well written.

You might be entitled to your opinion as much as you want, but to me, it's unbelievably wrong on sooo many levels. In a hurtful way that makes me sick to my stomach. You might like it because you build fictional characters in your head with faces you'll never see again and then enjoy the hell out of the dark story. But me?

 

I'll forever see Häftling 40*** standing right next to me in front of the Todeswand - the Wall of Death - and telling me how he offered himself up to some SS men in order to safe his family. THAT'S what I see when I read this blurb, and absolutely nothing you say can convince me that this work of 'fiction' is somehow okay in any world, in any way, form or fashion.