Thesis Title the Lagermuseum Creative Manuscript and 'Encountering Auschwitz: Touring the Auschwitz-Birkenau State Museum' C
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Thesis Title The Lagermuseum Creative Manuscript and ‘Encountering Auschwitz: Touring the Auschwitz-Birkenau State Museum’ Critical Thesis Author Dr Claire Griffiths, BA (Hons), MA, PhD Qualification Creative and Critical Writing PhD Institution University of East Anglia, Norwich School of Literature, Drama and Creative Writing Date January 2015 Word Count 91,102 (excluding appendices) This copy of the thesis has been supplied on condition that anyone who consults it is understood to recognise that its copyright rests with the author and that use of any information derived there from must be in accordance with current UK Copyright Law. In addition, any quotation or extract must include full attribution. Abstract The Lagermuseum My creative manuscript – an extract of a longer novel – seeks to illuminate a little- known aspect of the history of the Auschwitz concentration and death camp complex, namely the trade and display of prisoner artworks. However, it is also concerned with exposing the governing paradigms inherent to contemporary encounters with the Holocaust, calling attention to the curatorial processes present in all interrogations of this most contentious historical subject. Questions relating to ownership, display and representational hierarchies permeate the text, characterised by a shape-shifting curator figure and artworks which refuse to adhere to the canon he creates for them. The Lagermuseum is thus in constant dialogue with my critical thesis, examining the fictional devices which often remain unacknowledged within established modes of historical discourse, specifically museums and tours. What emerges, I hope, is an ethically-sensitive work, which interrogates two key questions: Who is in charge of history? How do the ways in which history is curated affect our interpretations of it? ‘Encountering Auschwitz: Touring the Auschwitz-Birkenau State Museum’ In the mid-1990s, as the Auschwitz-Birkenau State Museum cemented its status as one of Europe’s most popular memorial destinations, critical conversation revolved around the potential implications and ramifications of Holocaust tourism. My thesis, however, aims to address an apparent gap within this still-evolving field of research. Thus I examine not visitor motivations for going to such sites, but the types of historical encounters available to those who seek them. Taking a personal, theoretical and strongly narrative approach, I critique the guided group tours provided by the museum, evaluating them in terms of both form and content. Particular emphasis is placed on representative tropes which can be connected to ethical concerns regarding the ‘museumification’ of Auschwitz, as well as wider issues within contemporary trauma theory and dark tourism research. 2 List of Contents Front Matter Title page 1 Abstract 2 List of contents 3 Acknowledgements 5 The Lagermuseum 6 Prologue 7 Entrance 10 1941: Origins (I) 15 ‘Rudolf and Hans, Riding’ 22 ‘Lady with an Ermine’ 27 ‘The Feeding Horse’ 40 ‘Aleksandr, Seated’ 46 1941: Origins (II) 58 1942: Expansion (I) 60 Letter I 64 ‘Camp Auschwitz I Development’ 66 ‘The Kommandant, Standing’ 71 ‘Portrait of S_ K_’ 81 ‘Interior of the Camp Museum’ 92 Letter II 97 1942: Expansion (II) 98 1943: Selection (I) 101 ‘Autoportret’ 103 Letter III 108 ‘Tata and Máma and Me’ 109 ‘Saddle Horses’ 122 Letter IV 127 1943: Selection (II) 138 1944: Resistance 129 3 ‘Sturm and the Dybbuk’ 129 1945 Onwards: Liberation 143 ‘My Dear Friend Szymon’ 143 Exit 159 Epilogue: Zur Freiheit 161 ‘Encountering Auschwitz: Touring the Auschwitz-Birkenau State Museum’ 164 Introduction 164 Old Town/New Town 170 Transport (I) 173 Reception 174 Auschwitz I 177 Block 4: Extermination 179 Block 5: Material Proofs of Crimes 186 Moments of Reprieve (I) 192 Roll Call Yard 193 Block 6: Prisoners Life 196 Moments of Reprieve (II) 200 Crematoria I 201 Auschwitz II-Birkenau 203 Moments of Reprieve (III) 210 Transport (II) 212 Invisible Cities 217 Conclusion (I) 220 Conclusion (II) 223 References and Bibliography References (for critical thesis) 228 Bibliography (additional sources for creative manuscript and critical thesis) 236 Appendices 250 Appendix I: Transcript, Group Tour, Auschwitz I, August 2009 250 Appendix II: Transcript, Group Tour, Auschwitz II-Birkenau, August 2009 274 Appendix III: Transcript, Group Tour, Auschwitz I, April 2014 282 4 Acknowledgements I would like to acknowledge the invaluable assistance and support of my PhD supervisors, Professor Andrew Cowan and Dr Stephen Benson, in putting together this project. I would also like to thank Dr Giles Foden at the University of East Anglia and Dr Christine Berberich at the University of Portsmouth for their very helpful advice. 5 The Lagermuseum ‘Seek and learn to recognize who and what, in the midst of the inferno, are not inferno then make them endure, give them space.’ Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities 6 Prologue You knock – of course you knock. Curiosity is in your nature: the closed book must be opened; the twitching curtain looked behind; the sealed package calls for you to unwrap it; the letter carelessly left on a table demands to be read. And so a door marked 'Verboten'? Of course you knock. No answer. You try the handle but it does not want to give. Reluctantly, you walk away. “Pssst… Psssssst.” Turning back, you find the door is now ajar though you did not see or hear it happen: the book has flown open. A voice emerges from inside the building, sputtering before it starts. “Jubis, Posni, Doy-” It collapses in a chorus of coughing, great grunts from the throat. You hear the strangled cry of liquid being brought up; a dollop of phlegm lands on the doorstep. “Jubis-Polni-Doysh?” it tries again. Your ears strain to pick out the words, which lurch uncontrollably between loud and soft, high and low. You try to pick out each syllable, test whether it can be connected to the next. “Jüdisch? Polnisch? Deutsche?” That's it, you realise. You step forward to get a look at the speaker but they remain just out of sight, concealed by the sliver of blackness between the door and the red brick building. “Jüdisch? Polnisch? Deutsche?” it says again, “oder Englisch?” You nod automatically. “Okay, English.” There is a pause; two hasty swallows. “I am German, for my sins, but please do not think badly of me for it – hah.” The ‘hah’ breaks into yet another series of coughs. “So,” the voice continues once recovered, “you knocked – what do you want?” For a moment you forget – where you are, why you are here. It returns to you in stages: the site, the tour, this building and its number, 24a. You ask the question. 7 “Ah yes, you are correct.” At last the voice crackles into life, the kindling finally taking flame. It belongs to someone older – very old – and male, you realise. It continues in a slow monotone, the drawn-out vowels punctuated by crisp consonants. “This is the gallery where the prisoners made art,” it confirms. “Or the Lagermuseum, as it was known. You have done some research, I think; most people do not recognise it.” You venture a second question. “No, no,” he says. “You are not allowed in. See the sign beside the door: 'Verboten'? It means forbidden, off limits to the public. The Lagermuseum is not part of the tours.” Another question. “Why? Well you must ask staff why. No, I am not staff. I look after only this building – I am the curator, if you like – this is the word, yes?” You hear him shift position – shuffling feet, the rustle of material – and finally you detect his outline: a hunched figure not more than five feet tall, though it would be more were he standing up straight. He is clothed in shadow and does not look at you when he speaks. “It is not what you want to hear, is it? Entschuldigung – I am sorry for that. But tell me, why does it matter? You have not been shown enough of this place?” A paper-white hand, caught in a net of black veins, appears from the darkness and gestures towards the rest of the camp. “They took you to the gate, I assume, and around the barracks? You have seen the roll call yard, the punishment block, the uniforms, the prayer shawls? You have stood inside the gas chamber, observed the scratches on the walls? And you have seen, too, the piles of hair – and shoes and shaving brushes and prosthetic limbs and children's clothes and spectacles and so on and so on?” Again, you nod. “Well then,” he says, “what else can you want?” You open your mouth but the hand flicks up, palm outwards. “Tsh-tsh; I know the answer – I have met your kind before. It is not enough to take the same tour, to have the same experience as everyone else, is that correct? To only see what you have already seen in books, in photographs, in films? You want that there is something else, yes? You believe this.” 8 You do – although you did not realise it until now. All day you have carried the sense that there is something missing here; as though every artefact hides another just behind it, so that the more is seen, the more is lost. “Well then,” he continues, “if you insist on viewing the artworks, perhaps it is possible that I show you. But not yet – I do not show them to the casual visitor. One hour, two hours, it will not be enough. You must come back later, when you have more time.” The door begins to shut, only to be stopped by your words. “Closed?” he responds. “Of course the museum will be closed; the site is always locked at night. But you look fit enough – the outer barrier is not so tall and they don't turn the fences on any more, hah.