A rare book that makes you sit up, well up, and whispers never to give up.
***Actual rating: 4.5/5***
“Mischling” is a bitingly affecting chronicle of fictional twins during their internment in Josef Mengele’s infamous ‘zoo’ of human specimens, including Pearl and Stasha, sisters of the inseparable kind. Shortly after I started reading I too couldn’t bear the thought of being parted from either of them for long.
Nature’s duplication had categorised them as persons of interest to a physician who could locate whatever trace of belief and courage remained and test it to its limits, before tearing it apart piece by punishing piece.
It’s inconceivable that the sisters should share the burdens of this unforgiving, colourless place until one day they are faced with bearing them alone. The strangeness of this unfamiliar solitude could push them toward a melancholic vacuum, or be perceived as merciful now they can no longer witness the other’s suffering. But the non-confirmation of each other’s wellbeing would also be enough to destroy the separated souls.
Although the twin’s connection may be compromised, unexpected encounters with other incomplete wholes present hope as a possibility once more. As the monitors in human form kept tally of their subjects’ grief, I loved how each distinctive character endeavoured to ‘teach’ the techniques for survival they had learned long before the barbed wire surrounded them, like Bruna with her snow white hair and pink eyes, her fierceness masking her fragility.
With every turn of the page I found myself willing their misery to stop. Yet it’s not just a story focussed on what is lost, but everything that can be found. In contrast to the despicable acts that occur the writing has a lyrical air, its composition resonating with an outlook that could only be achieved from a child’s perspective.
The ending felt a little weaker than I’d prepared myself for, but in no way did this detract from the overall influence on my emotional state as I closed the cover for the final time – it’s one of those rare books that make you sit up, well up, and whispers never to give up.
“Mischling” is a bitingly affecting chronicle of fictional twins during their internment in Josef Mengele’s infamous ‘zoo’ of human specimens, including Pearl and Stasha, sisters of the inseparable kind. Shortly after I started reading I too couldn’t bear the thought of being parted from either of them for long.
Nature’s duplication had categorised them as persons of interest to a physician who could locate whatever trace of belief and courage remained and test it to its limits, before tearing it apart piece by punishing piece.
It’s inconceivable that the sisters should share the burdens of this unforgiving, colourless place until one day they are faced with bearing them alone. The strangeness of this unfamiliar solitude could push them toward a melancholic vacuum, or be perceived as merciful now they can no longer witness the other’s suffering. But the non-confirmation of each other’s wellbeing would also be enough to destroy the separated souls.
Although the twin’s connection may be compromised, unexpected encounters with other incomplete wholes present hope as a possibility once more. As the monitors in human form kept tally of their subjects’ grief, I loved how each distinctive character endeavoured to ‘teach’ the techniques for survival they had learned long before the barbed wire surrounded them, like Bruna with her snow white hair and pink eyes, her fierceness masking her fragility.
With every turn of the page I found myself willing their misery to stop. Yet it’s not just a story focussed on what is lost, but everything that can be found. In contrast to the despicable acts that occur the writing has a lyrical air, its composition resonating with an outlook that could only be achieved from a child’s perspective.
The ending felt a little weaker than I’d prepared myself for, but in no way did this detract from the overall influence on my emotional state as I closed the cover for the final time – it’s one of those rare books that make you sit up, well up, and whispers never to give up.