TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING: ENOUGH HOLOCAUST MEMORIALS

September 26, 2012

The one thing we are never allowed to forget about Nazi Germany, is precisely that it was predominantly Nazi. Every brick, plank and stone that has been standing there since the end of World War II in 1945, cannot escape some association with those dark and cruel days. And with so many famous Nazis on the roll call: Hermann Goering, Joseph Goebbels, Adolf Eichmann, Joseph Mengele, Heinrich Himmler, Rudolf Hess... links with Hitler's tyranny are far from hard to find. Every street corner could be a memorial of sorts to one or more victims. This, of course, has not happened: it would have been sinister and counter-productive.

To a lesser degree, the same applies to Austria. Johannes Waidbacher, the mayor of a small town about an hours drive from Salzburg, was right to resist the transforming of the house where Hitler spent the first three years of his life into a memorial to the holocaust. "We as the city of Braunau are thus not prepared to take responsibility for the outbreak of World War II". He said, adding that another Holocaust memorial would not make much sense, when there were so many scattered around the area already. A valid point, which left him metaphorically lynched.

Grieving and remembrance have there time and place; but overdoing these worthy tributes cheapens the genuine sentiment. Let the house be what it will be. As for the rest, a plaque will suffice.

I Remember, I Remember

I Remember, I Remember

I remember, I remember
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn;
He never came a wink too soon
Nor brought too long a day;
But now, I often wish the night
Had borne my breath away.

I remember, I remember
The roses red and white,
The violets and the lily cups-
Those flowers made of light!
The lilacs where the robin built,
And where my brother set
The laburnum on his birthday,-
The tree is living yet!

I remember, I remember
Where I was used to swing,
And thought the air must rush as fresh
To swallows on the wing;
My spirit flew in feathers then
That is so heavy now,
The summer pools could hardly cool
The fever on my brow.

I remember, I remember
The fir-trees dark and high;
I used to think their slender tops
Were close against the sky:
It was a childish ignorance,
But now 'tis little joy
To know I'm farther off from Heaven
Than when I was a boy.

Thomas Hood