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January/February 2016

Playing for the Commandant

Playing for the Commandant, by Suzy Zail; Candlewick Press: Massachusetts, 2014; $16.99 When Suzy Zail, author of Playing for the Commandant, details how Hanna, our young Jewish protagonist, was shipped with her family to the infamous Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camp, I couldn’t help but remember Anne Frank, whose life after her diary ended was very similar to Hanna’s. But Hanna, unlike Anne (who later died in a German camp), survives the horrible ordeal. How does she manage to live in such a place, with exhausting labor, barely any food, and brutal captors? She plays piano. Before the war, she had been an accomplished concert pianist. At the camp, she is forced to play for the commandant, the merciless warden. It promises her a break from labor and a few extra morsels of food but is just as dangerous as the camp. The punishment for a wrong note? Losing a finger. Any other offense? Death. Staying alive won’t be easy, but Hanna will make it somehow. Thrown into the mix is the commandant’s moody son, Karl, who spends his time slouched in a chair, secretly admiring Hanna. Talk about unlikely love. Zail’s gruesome descriptions of life in Auschwitz are moving and inspiring. Hanna’s first-person narration is a great choice, because it makes the horrors even more vivid and heart-wrenching. When Hanna smuggles a broken piano key into the camp, it is clear to the reader that the key is a metaphor for her comfortable middle-class life back home in Hungary. A tale of woe is transformed into a tale of resilience when it is narrated by Hanna. Yet even more riveting than the details of the killing, the starvation, and the pain are the stories of friendship at the camp. In Auschwitz, it’s a dog-eat-dog world. But where there is dark, there is love, and hearing about Hanna embracing her older sister, Hanna comforting her ill mother, and Hanna being comforted by a servant girl in the commandant’s house is Zail’s way of promising light at the end of the tunnel. Throughout the book, Hanna gradually finds ways to rebel. First, it’s giving her sister a morsel of extra bread. Then, it’s sneaking stolen food from the commandant’s kitchen into the laundry delivery to Auschwitz. A startling (and to the reader, unsettling) crescendo to this is the secret romance she shares with Karl. Hanna is also unsettled by this, and it is an interesting look at how little we can control our emotions. Although Karl’s father is responsible for the gas chambers, the killings, and the horrific cruelties at the camp, Hanna still loves him, though not without a bit of guilt. This concept of emotions taking over is something that Zail handles deftly, never once stumbling on any aspect. It makes for a very readable, beautifully written, hard to put down book that should be required reading for anyone interested in World War II or Anne Frank, and even for those who have never heard of the Holocaust. It mixes pain with love, romance with suffering, and survival with history in a book where life conquers all. Sophie Beatrice Cooper, 12New York, New York

The Seabird

In the shadow of a low stone wall on the edge of a forest, two sisters lay sprawled in the grass. The younger one turned to look at her sister. “Lindsey, is this really the last time?” she whispered. Lindsey nodded miserably and continued to look at the sky. She remembered only too well the day her parents announced they were moving. The weeks after that had been a flurry of packing and goodbyes. Now she and Sara had come to their favorite place in the world to say goodbye. They had been coming here ever since Sara was a baby to watch the clouds. They had always wanted to see one shaped like a bird, but they never had. And now we never will, Lindsey thought. They had always wanted to see one shaped like a bird, but they never had “Lindsey, what would happen if we ran away?” Sara asked. “We could hide in the forest until Mom and Dad leave and then we could stay here forever.” “We’d starve to death,” Lindsey answered. “Anyway…” But her words were cut off by the voice of her father. “Sara! Lindsey! Where are you? It’s time to go!” “Coming, Dad,” Lindsey groaned. “Come on, Sara.” Lindsey pulled Sara to her feet and together they climbed over the wall and got into the waiting car. As they drove away, Sara began to cry. “Oh, be quiet,” snapped Lindsey, but she felt like crying too. Three hours later they reached the new house. Lindsey went out on the back porch and watched the sun setting over the ocean. Just as the fiery orb sank below the horizon, Lindsey heard someone else come out onto the porch. A moment later, Sara was standing beside her. “Look,” Sara whispered. Lindsey looked where her sister pointed and saw, just above the place where the sun had gone down, a cloud shaped like a bird, its wings spread wide in the afterglow of the sunset. Lindsey put an arm around Sara. “No wonder we never saw one before,” she whispered. “We were looking in the wrong place.” Sandra Detweiler, 12Eugene, Oregon Ruby Bledsoe, 12Austin, Texas

Miss Kagawa’s Gift

1928 RALEIGH, NORTH CAROLINA Akemi was taking a while to adjust. Her father, mother, and sister had made the trip to Japan a few weeks before to finally complete the adoption process and bring her home. She was overwhelmed. There were so many new faces and personalities to learn. Everything was so different here in America. The day-to-day life was nothing like she was used to. Akemi had never known that you could miss your old home so much—even if you were in a new home. She’d owned next to nothing back at the orphanage in Japan, so she didn’t even have anything to remind her of her native land. Her mother, Rachel, understood the way her new daughter was feeling, for she had been adopted herself when she was eleven years old. Her sister, Grace, was fourteen years old and understood that she was simply to comfort her sister. Akemi had definitely taken to Grace. She still wouldn’t speak to anyone but would stand by her sister whenever she could and sit next to her at the dinner table. Her father, Chris, knew that Akemi was still trying to get used to her new surroundings. He was concerned for her, though. All of the adoption guidebooks instructed him to just keep loving her, and he tried to do that as much as he could. He only wished that there was something he could do, even a little something, to make her feel a little more at home. Akemi had never known that you could miss your old home so much Chris knew he had to return to work the following day but couldn’t even begin to think about that. He was absolutely exhausted from their long journey to Japan and only wanted to rest. He knew that wouldn’t be happening in the next few days, though. Chris worked at the North Carolina Museum of Natural Sciences, where he set up and removed exhibits. He also assisted with some of the cleaning occasionally. All of this took place before and after museum hours, so Chris had early mornings and—sometimes— late nights. He was usually around to help his daughter with her homework, though. Soon Akemi would be going to school, too, and he could help her with her homework as well. The orphanage that Akemi had lived in for the first twelve years of her life had given her basic schooling and English lessons, as most of the parents looking to adopt from that orphanage spoke English. That made Akemi’s transition much easier, as she would have had much more to learn had she not spoken the country’s language. *          *          * Chris headed up the stairs to the girls’ bedroom to say good night to them. The family had a three-bedroom home, but Akemi seemed most comfortable sharing a room with Grace for the time being. Before adopting Akemi, the family of three had spent much time and effort putting a room together for her. The beautiful purple and gray designs painstakingly painted on the walls, the desk and dresser all ready to be used. But, if Akemi wanted to share a room with Grace, no one was going to upset her. Chris said good night to his daughters and then headed back to the family room. He pulled out his folder of work assignments and sat down to review. The task summary described a doll to be put on display. “A doll?” thought Chris. “Why on earth would we put a doll in an exhibit?” As he read on, the instructions outlined a bit of the doll’s history. The doll to be put on display has been christened Miss Kagawa. As some will recall, in the early months of last year, our country sent around 12,000 dolls to Japan as a gift of friendship because of the discrimination being placed on Japanese immigrants here. Eiichi Shibusawa from Japan organized a “thank you” gift and led the creation of fifty-eight Japanese “Friendship Dolls” to be sent to the states. The dolls traveled across the U.S., and the North Carolina Museum of Natural Sciences has the opportunity to house one of these dolls. Miss Kagawa has in her possession a ticket for a steamship, a passport, and various accessories and furniture. You will place and position these items as shown in the diagram included. This exhibit will be set up on the morning of October 5th, 1928. Please report to the circulation counter at five-thirty that morning for further details. Thanks, Tom Highton Museum Exhibit Manager October 5th was, unfortunately, the following day. Chris decided to turn in early, for he had a big day ahead of him. *          *          * Chris woke to his alarm at five o’clock the next morning and, begrudgingly, readied himself for work. He ate a quick breakfast and climbed into the car. The drive to work wasn’t too long, and Chris was there in a matter of minutes. Chris would have walked to work, but the air was surprisingly biting for October. Pulling his key out of his pocket, Chris opened the museum’s side door and proceeded to the circulation desk as the directions instructed. There, the exhibit manager, Tom, stood waiting for him. “Morning, Chris,” Tom boomed. Tom was a very loud man, but he was always smiling. Chris had discovered that no matter how tired he was, Tom’s smile was usually effective in fully waking him up. “Morning, Tom,” Chris replied. “Do you have the details on this doll exhibit?” “That I do,” Tom said as he reached over the counter and grabbed a folder. Tom then showed Chris everything he would need to know to set the exhibit up that morning. There were diagrams, handwritten notes, and photos of exactly how the case was to look when it was completely set up. Chris thanked Tom and went to find the empty display case he was to use. The doll and her accessories would be inside this case, which would be