by Helga Schneider, Barbara Rosenblat
I have a...strained relationship with my mother (that's being kind) and so, Holocaust history aside, this book hit me viscerally. I could see my own mother in Helga's--selfish, covert-aggressive, impossible to tell if she's being sincere or not, to the point where you don't even think she knows hers...
At times it was difficult to continue reading this book. I stayed with it because of the mother-daughter connection. It would be hard not to feel revulsion toward oneself, knowing you were spawned by such a despicable creature. It sickens me just to think I'm a member of the same species as Helga ...
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