
Lost in the Fog
Memoir of a Bastard: A Belgian Recalls the War, the Nazis, Her Fractured Life
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- نقد و بررسی
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نقد و بررسی

May 26, 2008
Van Meers's childhood was so miserable even Dickens might have softened it. She was born in a Belgian home for unwed mothers in 1930. Her mother once hit her so hard she lost the hearing in one ear, and dubbed her “nails in my coffin.” The rest of the family wasn't much better. One aunt, an aspiring nun, once gave her counterfeit money. An uncle encouraged her to steal a bike, then pushed her and the bike into a canal. But her blood relatives were delightful compared to her stepfather, a violent, abusive Nazi sympathizer. When a feisty 13-year-old Rachel spat at him, he sent her to a work camp in Germany. Only after she became deathly ill a year later was she returned to Belgium for treatment. Yet Van Meers is remarkably free of bitterness. She's equally free of the powers of reflection. The clumsy prose (“Belgium is two languages”) reflects the less than graceful (and sometimes coarse) English of Van Meers, who now lives in Oregon. But as a fascinating mix of horror, survival and dogged determination, this book is hard to put down. Photos.

July 1, 2008
Funny is that. For all the misery, I loved my mother. Born illegitimate in a Flemish Catholic home in Belgium in 1930, Rachel was picked on by everyone, including her mother, and abused by her stepfather (My mother, she couldnt care less). When she opposed her parents support for the SS, they sent her to a German camp. Illiterate, she worked after the war as maid, nanny, and caregiver, until she met her husband from Indonesia, and in 1961 they came to the U.S. and settled in Oregon. Chase lets her tell it in her own voice, looking back, still prejudiced, remembering how she saw things. Oral history can be repetitive, and this memoir could do with editing. But the poor young womans view of the powerful at home and at war is a side of history rarely told. And more than that, her enduring bond with her mother is unforgettable: I didnt want to be like her. But I loved her all the time.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2008, American Library Association.)
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