When is it possible, really, to write a comedic mash-up of Anne Frank?
Shalom Auslander is pushing the envelope.
In Auslander’s debut novel, Hope: A Tragedy (Riverhead), out this month, a hero named Solomon Kugel has recently moved with his wife, child, and kvetching mother into a farmhouse in upstate New York. Hearing tapping in the attic one night, Kugel ascends to investigate, expecting to find mice droppings. Instead, Kugel finds a decrepit old woman who claims to be Anne Frank, slithering behind a wall of boxes, noshing on vermin, and tapping out her next book on a computer.
Rodent shit, it turns out, would have been a preferable discovery for Kugel.
Auslander’s Anne Frank is an old shrew who eschews sentimentality and obsesses about her status as a writer. “Blow me,” she says to Kugel when he attempts to bond by disclosing he had relatives who died in Auschwitz. In Auslander’s version, Anne Frank survived the Holocaust but was advised to “stay dead” by her publisher because it would be better for book sales. She has lived in attics ever since the war, and Kugel unknowingly inherited her when he bought the farmhouse.
Kugel is reluctant to tell his live-in mother about Anne Frank’s presence in their attic. Kugel’s mother luxuriates in the thought of her own death, and is maniacally fixated on the Holocaust (even though she grew up in Brooklyn and summered in the Catskills). When Kugel spills the beans about Anne Frank, you can only imagine the naches his mother gets from discovering that the premier victim (“Miss Holocaust, 1945,” as Auslander’s Anne Frank facetiously calls herself) is living under the same roof.
Auslander’s brand of Jewish humor can be deliciously spot-on (Anne Frank throws a loaf of Ezekial bread at Kugel’s head because she had asked him to bring her matzoh) and also wildly offensive (if Anne Frank were to leave, Kugel imagines referring to his attic as, “One hundred percent Frankless. Now with Less Genocide.”)
In part, Auslander is skewering the Jewish tradition of sanctifying suffering — Kugel calls Passover the “Misery Olympics,” and Auslander’s Anne Frank quips, a bit glibly, “I think never forgetting the Holocaust is not the same things as never shutting up about it.” While this may seem a bit flippant, Auslander’s larger theme — what it means to live (and to write) under the burden of Jewish history – is anything but facile. For every Jewish writer, Auslander suggests, Anne Frank is the “madwoman in the attic” (à la Jane Eyre’s Bertha, as Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar have famously explained) – a figure whose awful, insane, and incendiary truths must be confronted before one can get on with the business of writing.
Auslander is the author of the short story collection Beware of God (2005) and the memoir Foreskin’s Lament (2007). Hope: A Tragedy has been thoughtfully reviewed elsewhere recently (L.A. Times, New York Times), and the words “Philip Roth” and “heir to” have been written together more than occasionally in reference to Hope‘s author.
And yet, if comedy equals tragedy plus time, how many epochs must pass before the following scene can be written?: On a tourist trip to the Sachsenhausen concentration camp, Kugel’s mother is disappointed to find the gas chambers were destroyed at the end of the war — “Are there ovens at least?” she asks, in search of some kind of shrine to satisfy her demented obsession, “The trip shouldn’t be a total waste?”
Throughout the novel, Kugel keeps a notebook of words he hopes he will have the presence of mind to utter just before his death. Among the “Last Words” he considers: “Fuck all of you motherfuckers,” and – after finding a Holocaust survivor instead of mouse crap in his attic — “There’s life for you . . . . Shit everywhere until you need some; then there is none.”
Or, here’s another suggestion: