A lot of little things happened today, but they're all overshadowed by going to see a play in the evening. A play I was initially in, but couldn't go through with because of time constraints.
The Investigation, by Peter Weiss, is a stageplay composed of edited transcripts from the 1963 Auschwitz war crimes trial. It's about how the holocaust was denied by it's perpetrators, in the face of testimony from survivors.
Now that most of the original nazis are dead, the new wave are again denying the reality of something both irrefutable and unimaginable.
The play is so harrowing because it doesn't shout. It simply reports - what happened at the camp, how barefacedly it was denied, and how a nation simply tried to forget. Using only the words spoken in a courtroom, and recorded by government officials.
H told me it can't happen again because the cultural memory is too strong to let it happen again. For such a careful thinker it's a very nieve thing to say - but a very comforting thing to believe.
Now I have to forget for a few days. So that I can manage my own small life.
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