Professional Documents
Culture Documents
.
JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range of
content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new forms
of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org.
University of Illinois Press and Polish Institute of Arts & Sciences of America are collaborating with JSTOR to
digitize, preserve and extend access to The Polish Review.
http://www.jstor.org
JERZYJARNIEWICZ
the normality of
in a letter to Jerzy
Kosinski
contemporary
the novel, the
a fragment of
commentaries
in
the
kind
book
also
this
of
quoted
reading: Anai's Nin
encouraged
success
in
the
"the
novel's
entire
lifting
experience to the
emphasized
and
Luis
Bunuel observed
realms
of
knowledge,"
philosophic, mythological
that the novel moves beyond realism, being "a trip into the world of
nightmare and anxiety." Polish responses to the novel, at first almost
in the novel.
Self-Reflective Artifice in
Russell, "The Vault of Language:
Fiction
Studies 20.3 (Fall 1974):
Modern
American
Fiction,"
Contemporary
349-59.
2
Joanna Siedlecka, Czarnyptasior(Gdansk: Marabut, 1993).
Charles
642
Monika
643
processes of the Final Solution, apart from the scenes with death trains, find
no direct representation. But even more significant than this absence of the
text of The Painted Bird is the
Holocaust
representations in the whole
war
to
in general in the novel's first
lack
of
references
surprising
specific
few chapters.
Although, as observed, in the introductory paragraph of The Painted
described
implicitly invoking the raging war, will play such an important function in
one of the later chapters.
The reader's knowledge of the war spreading all over Europe,
evoked in the initial paragraph of The Painted Bird, has been deliberately,
though unobtrusively suspended. Only upon a careful reading of the imagery
in the first few chapters of the novel can one recognize distant echoes of the
ongoing processes of genocide; war is not represented, nor even mentioned,
but rather suggested by a series of menacing images of violence that form a
consistent metaphoric structure. The narrative offers numerous examples of
such potentially metaphoric images?for example, the squirrel burnt alive by
the boys; Malta's dead body circled by flames in her burning hut that turned
into "a furnace" (ll)5; or Olga's burning the wound of a child with a
gangrenous leg as the smell of charred flesh fills the room. All these images
can be read as powerful though indirect evocations of the Holocaust,
the
It is
in Kosinski's
novel remains anonymous.
historical tragedy which
significant that these scenes of cruelty and suffering, as well as other
ominous images such as "the charred smell" that thewind "carried over the
fields" (13) and "a narrow thread of smoke" (13) drifting upward into the
sky, evoke the Holocaust specifically, not violence or war in general, since
4
Fragments of this article appeared inmy paper, "War and the Absence of
War," delivered during the conference on "JerzyKosinski: Man andWork at the
Crossroads of Cultures" at theUniversity of Lodz in 1995, and published in the
proceedings.
5
All quotations are from The Painted Bird (New York: Bantam Books, 1981).
Subsequent references to this edition will be made by page number in the text.
644
they all involve burning and scorching, and therefore refer directly to the
etymological meaning of "holocaust" as destruction by fire. In this way,
Kosinski establishes an implicit parallel between his imagery, set outside the
war context, and the unnamed horrors of the Holocaust. Though the Boy
survives all the ordeals, his possible fate as a Jew inNazi-occupied
Poland is
to which he compares himself. In
that
theBoy "pays with the death of
argues
Voicing
animal surrogates, closely identified with him."6 When he is captured and
drawn in a cart by the partisans, he imagines himself to be a squirrel. And
though for the Boy, in all his naivete, this image connotes freedom, it also
recalls, ironically, the death of the animal which the village boys burnt alive.
The narrative in the first chapters of the novel is therefore not free
from scenes of brutality and cruelty, though paradoxically war does not
reflected in the deaths of the animals
the Void, Sara Horowitz
mark its presence there. It might be suggested that the theme of the
Holocaust has been "translated" into these scenes of local horrors,7 that there
is a metaphorical correspondence between the atrocities of which the Boy is
645
communities?it
the narrative takes place; the gangs of juvenile toughs bullying the
not because of the war, but are parallel to it. The racism which
exist
Boy
motivates the peasants' cruelty to the Boy does not stem from the anti
Semitic policy of theNazis, but is of local breeding. Surprisingly, the Boy
suffers at the hands of "normal" individuals and falls victim to their personal
which
in such a way that, in the course of the novel, war emerges gradually, first as
a meaningful, menacing absence, then as a distant element of the novel's
background, before finally being named and foregrounded. Its carefully
prepared, gradual emergence from the scenes describing the peasants'
normal life in villages somewhere at the periphery, far away from the
not alter in any significant way. There is no caesura between the state of
everyday normality and the state of emergency, no evident break between
the atrocities happening in normal life and those inspired by war.
The firstexplicit signals of war appear no sooner than inChapter 6,
when the Boy takes his revenge on the carpenter, whom he succeeds in
luring away to an abandoned military bunker full of rats by making use of
local stories about partisans hiding their war trophies and supplies there.
War itself remains absent, unrepresented; yet war narratives, stories about
instruments of the Boy's
is capable of
revenge. War
partisans, become
as
a
a
in
narrative.
The next
its
task
absentia,
sign,
deadly
performing
scene
war
enters
of the
the
with
its
is
the
first
where
machinery
chapter
Boy's drama. The word "Germans" appears for the first time in the narrative
(apart from the prologue) when drunken peasants discuss the threat that "the
Gypsy brat" may constitute to the village. Yet surprisingly enough, it is not
the occupying German troops who remind the Boy of the ongoing war and
signify death, but "mysterious mounted guests, who carried rifles and
revolvers" (69). This mysteriousness of the partisans makes them?in the
inhabited by
eyes of the Boy?a
part of the world of the half-real woods
same
At
the
time, however,
wolves, werewolves, ogres, demons, and ghouls.
by virtue of their language and their nationality, the partisans belong to the
646
world of the villages which they brutally ransack rather than to theworld of
foreign invaders, who are busy implementing the Final Solution. Unlike the
Boy, and unlike theGermans, the partisans are locals, insiders. It is into their
hands that the Boy falls, after which the partisans decide to deliver him to
the German
authorities
ismotivated
which emphasizes the continuity between the two parties of evil. In the eyes
of the Boy, peasants, partisans and Germans join forces in their attempts to
destroy him. In a characteristic gesture of social mimicry, when a young
Nazi officer appears and the German soldiers, straightening their uniforms,
stand at attention, the peasants do the same: they "tried to imitate the
soldiers and also drew themselves up servilely" (73). The Boy is then
as if the peasants were not handing over a human being to the
authorities, but trying to sell cattle: the officer "looked intomy eyes while
pulling back my lids, and inspected the scars on my knees and calves" (73).
evaluated
And yet, contrary to expectations, it is a German soldier who sets the Boy
free. The Nazis,
whose
should be the most explicit
very presence
a
act
in
of
that
somehow obliterates the nature
war,
way
unequivocal signal
of that very war.
majestic
tore themselves
and
away
slowly
from
their
themselves
deliberately
pipes,
entwining
in the knots and scrolls of banisters and railings
magically
and rain gutters. (75)
War
Bathtubs
Readers
goods.
in this
recollection might rightly inquire about the victims of the bombing. It is only
after the apocalypse of the trivia that the reader learns about dead human
bodies tossed around the ruins of the building. This is another case of
Kosinski's
strategy of translating: human tragedy is represented in a
translated form of images that depict the destruction of objects, just as the
genocide of the absent war is represented in a translated form as violence in
normal communities of Eastern European peasants.8 Czeslaw Milosz's
poem
"A Poor Christian Looks at the Ghetto," written in immediate response to
the outbreak of the Warsaw
Ghetto Uprising, makes use of a similar,
Holocaust
between two peasants at a reception. The difference between the two types
of death is only in degree; the second slaughter is, the Boy remarks, less
spectacular only than the grand spectacle of the air raid.
narrative is thus a carefully organized metaphorical
Kosinski's
structure, a deliberate choice on the author's part to present war as something
identical with the so-called normal, everyday life led by
essentially
communities. War in the novel, especially in itsfirst part, has been radically
and intentionally marginalized, to the point of allowing the reader to forget
8
Vice, p. 68.
9
"A Poor Christian Looks at the Ghetto," translated by Peter Dale Scott and
inMilosz's Postwar Polish Poetry, Third Expanded Edition
Czeslaw Milosz,
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1983), p. 75.
648
about it, and yet the book depicts anything but a peaceful world. The
narrative is a real catalogue of atrocities and horrors, a detailed index of
various forms of violence and suffering. The atrocities which the Boy
experiences, either as a victim or as a witness, are no smaller because of the
absence of war. Indeed, the actual arrival of the war machinery onto the
scene of the novel does not make much difference. On the contrary, it can
mean deliverance and relief to the Boy, as in the case of theGerman soldier
who disobeyed the orders to kill him or of the SS officer who handed him
over to a priest.
is played by the recurrent episodes with partisans who "fought each other"
(69). This theme, however, culminates after the proper regular war is over in
a scene of a bloody fight,when, as Kosinski writes, "brother fought against
brother, fathers swung axes against sons in front of their mothers. An
invisible force divided people, split families, addled brains" (182). This
aggression is not caused by the appearance of an intruder of a different
an imagined threat
of his otherness?constitutes
complexion, who?because
to the integrityand uniformity of a group, undermines its clear-cut divisions
and certainties, and serves as the projection of their aggressions.
Kosinski's
vision of war as the extension of normality which I see
as themain theme of The Painted Bird recalls the classical definition of war
10
See also Jerzy Jarniewicz, "Zniewolenie historia," Odra 2/1990.
seems
scenes of physical cruelty which the Boy witnesses, or takes part in, have
their parallels in the world of nature. Kosinski himself, in his Notes of the
Author on The Painted Bird, writes about the behavioral and psychological
analogy between people and animals: "A forceful example is the dinner
scene at themiller's, when the two cats are used to evoke the heightened air
of sexual tension."11 Symptomatically, the first scene of aggression that the
novel relates is the scene of violence in the world of nature: the hawk
swooping down on a defenseless pigeon, tearing it apart. In Chapter 5, the
Boy tells a story about storkswhich kill a faithless hen for bearing a gosling.
It is no coincidence that this story comes immediately after the story of the
jealous miller and his faithless wife. "The coital seizure of dogs," Kosinski
explained in Notes,
"provides an expanded parallel to the situation of
Rainbow and the Jewish girl."12 In numerous images in the novel, Kosinski
juxtaposes the natural and the human, as if implying that the two essentially
the alarmed voices of dogs and
do not differ: "Behind me I heard ...
people" (162); "I could hear vague voices, human or animal" (26); the comet
"was indispensable protection against dogs and people" (28). Even theworld
of plants is subject to the same cosmic law of cruelty: "In the undergrowth,
where careless birds once thrashed, thewind ruthlessly scourged and sheared
the gray shagginess of the tall thistles and shifted the rotting stalks of potato
plants from place to place" (52). War frequently emerges in the images of
nature which are rendered inmilitary terms, such as in "the barricades of
tangled weeds"
(30).
11
JerzyKosinski, Passing By: Selected Essays,
House, 1992), p. 210.
12
Kosinski, Passing By, p. 211.
650
more
the sociological
law of hate or as a metaphorized
example of universal,
can
not only from
evil.
This
view
of
the
Holocaust
be
deduced
metaphysical
the indirectness with which Kosinski handled the theme of war in The
Painted Bird. It re-emerges in an explicit form in The Hermit of 69th Street,
be
in Kosinski's
13
Henryk Grynberg, "A New Look at The Painted Bird," To Be Quarterly 5-6
(1995), p. 108.
Presumably his parents had to go into hiding because of their prewar anti
Nazi activities and not because theywanted to escape the fate of European
Jews. By referring to these and other aspects of the novel, Grynberg tries to
prove thatKosinski did not intend towrite "a book on theHolocaust." While
intention must remain a matter of conjecture, it is true that he
often expressed his doubts about monumentalizing
theHolocaust, an attitude
which to him "diminished, at least in the popular mind, the memory and
knowledge of cultural contributions made to civilization by both the Jewish
and the State of Israel."14 Grynberg observes that the Boy's
Diaspora
predicaments would have been exactly the same had the Holocaust never
Kosinski's
happened. "The wartime background of The Painted Bird might just as well
have been World War I, or the Russian Civil War, or a war in theMiddle
Ages."15 This is exactly what Kosinski was trying to do in The Painted Bird,
with Bosch on its cover and BunuePs
commentary: and yet Kosinski's
method does not stand for thewriter's evasion of the historical theme, but for
Jedwabne?the
burning alive of the whole population of the local Jews by
to provide specific
their "normal" Polish neighbors in July 1941?seems
historical grounding for the novel's narrative. Since Gross broke the silence
over the Jedwabne massacre, ithas become more and more difficult to read
Kosinski's
novel only as a poetic vision. What in The Painted Bird seemed
to be an almost Sadean sounding of the darkest recesses of human psyche
proved to have had its realizations in actual history. History entered and
annexed the world of the novel, stripping its horrors of the safety layer of
started a wide
oneiric imagination. In Poland, the publication ofNeighbors
or
on
Polish-Jewish
of
the
hitherto
debate
repressed aspects
mystified
public
relations, resulting in the dismantling of the myth of Polish
could have been expected that,with this knowledge, Polish
14
Passing By, p. 157.
15
p. 108.
Grynberg,
16
Jan Gross, Sqsiedzi:
Historia
zaglady
zydowskiego
innocence.
miasteczka
Pogranicze, 2000).
It
critics would
(Sejny:
652
return to The Painted Bird to revalue their opinions about its fictionality.
brief
However, no such thing happened; apart from Tomasz Mirkowicz's
in his introduction to Kosinski's
observations
"Obecnosc
podzielona"
(reprinted in this issue), the novel has not been invoked in the Jedwabne
debate.
The history of the reception of the novel has gone through several
stages. First, in view of Kosinski's own accounts of his life, itwas read as an
autobiographical
testimony. Then, especially after the revelations of his
wartime experience in Polish villages, interpreters tended to treat it as an
the public debate on Jedwabne provides an
imaginative allegory. Now
important argument for not ignoring the historical and realistic grounding of
this still disturbing, highly ambiguous work.