I am currently reading The Book Thief. I refuse to watch the movie until I have read the book. I like to create the characters in my mind, and then if the movie differs, I can still watch knowing my imagination got it right, not some movie director. When I watch a movie first, my imagination is limited to what I saw on the screen.
I'm not far from the end of The Book Thief and I'm a little sad at the thought of finishing. It's always a little depressing, like saying goodbye to a friend in some weird way. And then there is the unsettling feeling that I may not find a book as good as this one. I always do, but it concerns me for a moment there.
This particular book is set in Nazi Germany. I have a bit of a fascination with the goings-on of this time. It's plays on my mind long after I close my book shut for the night. I am left with confusion and questions.
How can people do this to one another?
How was this allowed to happen?
Why didn't more people step up and band together to stop the monstrosity?
I couldn't have just watched on. Surely I would have done something, or said something. At least I hope I would.
Isn't someone who watches on as such evil acts take place not much better than the one who commits them?
I feel some weird kind of anger at the people in my imagination that they watched on as their neighbours, old friends, acquaintances were treated worse than animals. I can't explain it, but I'm frustrated with their cowardice. I couldn't have stood by watching this go on.
But what could I have done?
If I spoke up, wouldn't I have been at risk? That doesn't matter, I could feel good about risking my life by standing up for the right.
My thoughts don't stop here though.
What if by speaking up my family are put in harms way? What if it meant my children would be made to suffer? I can't risk my children's lives. If it meant I was keeping my children safe then perhaps I am better off keeping quiet.......
And it's too late. I realise I am one of them. And I'm strangely disappointed in myself because I thought I was different, but my moment of pause and justification shows that I am no different. I was angry at them, but maybe I am one of them.