"What you are doing, Cilka, is the only form of resistance you have--staying alive." ~from Cilka's JourneyIn 1974 when I was twenty-two I met a woman who had come from Russia after World War II. I was new in town and not even half her age. In the morning when she saw my husband had left for work she would run across the street to my door. She asked why I did not have children yet, whispering that I should ask my husband--he'll know what to do. And she puzzled over my husband's job as an assistant pastor, asking "why two priests?"
One day, in broken English, Nadya told me that when she was a teenager she volunteered to go to a German work farm in her father's stead. She told me she never could have children and thought that she had been sterilized at that camp. When the war ended she was given the choice of three places to go and she chose New Jersey in America. On the ship, she met a man who had also been in a camp and had no family left and they married. She could not read English or drive. I am now surprised she even told me this much of her story.
I was ignorant of the details of modern history at that time. I knew about Nazi Germany and the concentration camps from books I had read such as Anne Frank's Diary. Still, I had little appreciation of the horror Nadya had endured. I later realized that Nadya was perhaps was Polish or from another country taken over by the Nazis and not Russian. That the work farm was a prison camp. That she had no family or home to return to after the war.
We are surrounded by people with stories that they keep to themselves for many reasons. Sometimes because the stories are too painful to speak. Perhaps they don't have the words to express their experience. Sometimes people fear that their past will bring judgment from those who weren't there.
When Heather Morris talked with Lale Sokolov, listening to his story that would become her best-selling novel The Tattooist of Auschwitz, he told her that Cilka Klein saved his life. Morris knew she had to learn about Cilka and write her story. How did this teenager survive years in prison camps? Not only survive but have the strength to help others survive?
The people Morris interviewed gave conflicting stories about Cilka's character. She was a collaborator. She slept with the Nazis for favors. She helped them, saved them, sacrificed for others. Which was the real Cilka?
Cilka was only sixteen in 1942 when the Nazis rounded up Slovakian Jews and she was sent to Auschwitz-Birkenau. She was young and beautiful and soon slated to become a sex slave.
At the end of WWII, Russia rounded up people they feared had collaborated or spied for the Nazis and sent them to Siberia. Cilka had 'slept with the enemy' and knew several languages. Deemed an enemy of the state, she was sent to a prisoner camp near the Arctic Circle where mistreated prisoners mined coal by hand.
In Cilka's Journey, Morris recreates life in the Gulag interspersed with flashbacks revealing Celia's life before and during WWII. The book is filled with memorable characters, women who have lost everything and yet strive for a sense of order, community, and even beauty. They bond over the hope represented by a baby and forgive each other's frailties.
"History never gives up its secrets easily," Morris writes, but Cilka's story needed to be told. It is the story of a girl cast into the unimaginable, not once but twice in her young life. And it is the story of courage, the pragmatism needed to survive, the shame of survivor's guilt, and the empathy that spurs personal sacrifices to help another.
Lale never forgot Cilka. Thanks to Morris, neither will we.
I received an ARC through Bookish First in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.
Cilka's Journey
by Heather Morris
St. Martin's Press
$27.99 hardcover
Publication Date: Oct 01 2019
ISBN: 9781250265708
