OUT OF THE ASHES - PART 2

Oh how I love the “specials” table at Birchalls in Launceston, my most frequented destination when I’m running low on reading material. I picked up another gem recently, I am Fifteen and I Do not want to Die by Christine Arnothy. Born in Hungary in 1930, this first novel by Arnothy chronicles her experiences as a fifteen year old during the siege of Budapest in the dying months of the Second World War, and the journey over the ensuing years to find freedom and a new life.

With Budapest occupied by the Germans, and with Russian soldiers encircling the city, the resulting barrage from both sides left the city in ruins and tens of thousands dead. Retreating to the basement of their apartment building, Christine spent several months with her family in what had been the coal scullery, while other occupants of the building created space for themselves in the dark, cramped conditions, hoping and praying that their makeshift haven would stay intact as the bombs rained down, taking out several apartments above them.

I often struggle to read biographies and autobiographies, and even memoirs can be a bit dry, but Arnothy’s account of those turbulent years in her life is written with such poignancy that you have no difficulty seeing through her eyes the horror and brutality of war, as well as a young girl’s dreams for a future where such despair and destruction can be replaced with hope.

Thrust into living together in the basement, the residents find they have to rely on each other for their survival, and surrounded by this mixture of people Christine finds solace in writing, recording her observations of how each react to their privations and destitute circumstances. Managing to escape Budapest with her parents, Christine spends the next three years in rural Hungary, then despite the war having ended, they finally take the arduous journey into Austria as refugees, crossing frontiers with no identity papers, risking detention and deportation.

Christine’s dream destination is France, having long harboured a love of France and what she imagines life there would be like. Succeeding in 1949 to leave Vienna, her dreams are dashed as she spends the next years in virtual poverty in Paris, scratching out a living while dreaming of being a writer, finding eventual refuge with her young husband and newly born daughter in Belgium.

The publication of I am Fifteen and I Do not want to Die when she was just twenty four years old thrust her into the limelight, earning her accolades worldwide for what was regarded a masterpiece of war literature. Sponsored by the French daily newspaper Le Parisien Libere, she was awarded Le Grand Prix Verite in 1956 (The Grand Prize for Truth).

What amazed me throughout was her belief that there was more to her life than the tragic events of war. Not to be defined by it or overcome by fear, danger, deprivation, starvation, and the stark reminder of the images of war in her dreams and memories, the little flame of hope that a future beckoned always flickered, however small.

With my thoughts recently concentrating on the numerous natural disasters occurring both here in Australia and overseas, I have the utmost admiration for those who have had to literally pick themselves up out of the ashes and ruins of what was once their life, to forge a whole new one.

Where do you go for help? Where does one’s identity go when faced with such an overwhelming task? There are those who are so traumatised they cannot face even the simplest task, and that is quite understandable, whereas others seem to be able to just roll up their sleeves and get on with it. Undoubtedly, even for them there’s a lot more going on under the surface than they might let on. Disasters can bring out both the best and worst in people, so to see others not touched by tragedy going out of their way to help those affected make a new start and get some sort of normality back into their life, keeps that faint light of hope burning.

Christine’s flight from Hungary to what her family believed would be a life of freedom and safety has its present day sequel. In no matter what corner of the globe, every violent conflict produces its share of refugees, ordinary people thrown into extraordinary circumstances. As if that experience isn’t traumatic enough, they then often have to battle for years before being able to reclaim their lives and start a new life in a foreign country where unfortunately many feel isolated and unwanted.

Like the tee shirt says, How far would you go to save your child’s life?

I know I don’t want to be the one to snuff out someone else’s flickering candle.