target="_blank" rel="nofollow" href="#ulink_6cc64a08-a702-5edc-807f-bf8cb3187d91">68 The question arises as to whether texts about the Holocaust belong in the category of historical fictions for children and young adults. It seems that the answer is “not yet”, probably because the victims and witnesses of the Event are still alive. It would be more accurate to refer to historical novels about the war as non-fiction. This may be why Gertruda Skotnicka’s monumental study of historical prose for children and young adults does not mention texts about the Second World War. See Gertruda Skotnicka, Barwy przeszłości: O powieściach historycznych dla dzieci i młodzieży 1939−1989 (Gdańsk: Wydawnictwo słowo/obraz terytoria, 2008).
69 As early as in the introduction, Dagan stresses the importance of knowledge about the past and defines the conditions for its successful transmission. Specifically, knowledge should be adapted to the age and sensitivity of children in order not to overburden them. In other words, any tale should be addressed to children who want to know. The responsibility of adults is to assess the needs of children as well as to control and systematise knowledge available through media. The educational dimension of dialogue with the child is showcased in CDs with lesson plans attached to Dagan’s two books. The ending of the tale is particularly interesting as the book, whose primary target audience were Israeli children, foregrounds armed combat with the enemy and symbolically caps the narrative about the Holocaust with a vision of a new home in Israel.
70 K. Levine: Hana’s Suitcase. A true Story. Toronto: Second Story Press, 2002.
71 Importantly, Kent’s book was published by the POLIN Museum of the History of Polish Jews. The publication is part of a project launched by the King Matt’s Family Education Area (the name alluding to Janusz Korczak’s popular 1922 book Król Maciuś Pierwszy – King Matt the First), which was founded by the POLIN Museum Education Centre and is committed to educating children aged 4–9 years.
72 For a detailed bibliography of such texts, see Agnieszka Sikora, “W jaki sposób mówimy dzieciom o wojnie? Charakterystyka prozy o tematyce wojennej na podstawie wybranych książek dla dzieci,” Acta Universitatis Lodziensis, Vol. 2, No. 19 (2014), pp. 25−44.
73 Steinlauf, Bondage to the Dead. The two timeframes correspond to Steinlauf’s periods of repressed memory and expelled memory.
74 See Roskies, “What is Holocaust literature,” pp. 199–200.
75 Such a multigenerational reading enterprise is well exemplified in the continued endeavour to scrutinise Janusz Korczak, undertaken by women from the well-known Polish family of Mortkowicz, pre-war publishers and booksellers. Most of the works of the Old Doctor came from the printing press of Jakub and Janina Mortkowicz. Contemporary writer Katarzyna Zimmerer continues the family tradition of spreading the knowledge of his life and pedagogical ideas, with her Zwyczajny dzień [An Ordinery Day], a book about Korczak for children, being just one instance of her work. Zimmerer’s daughter starred in Andrzej Wajda’s film Korczak. Her mother, Joanna Olczak-Ronikier, wrote a monumental book entitled Korczak. Próby biografii [Korczak: Towards a Biography], her grandmother, Hanna Mortkowicz-Olczak, wrote the first post-war biography of Janusz Korczak, and her great-grandmother Janina, fascinated, as she was, with Korczak’s innovative pedagogical notions, made it her mission to have his works published by the family publishing house.
76 Sławomir Buryła, “Topika Holokaustu. Wstępne rozpoznanie,” Świat Tekstów. Rocznik Słupski, No. 10 (2012), pp. 131−150.
77 Krystyna Kuliczkowska identifies four dominant styles of war-time narratives in Polish children’s literature: (1) stories which celebrate adventure and in this way dilute the tragic quality of war-time events (e.g. Krystek z Warszawy by Janina Broniewska, Tajemnica wzgórza 117 by Janusz Przymanowski and Kaktusy z Zielonej ulicy by Wiktor Zawada); (2) narratives in the fairy-tale convention (e.g. Mali bohaterowie by Zofia Lorenz, Porwanie w Tiutiurlistanie by Wojciech Żukrowski and O chłopcu, który szukał domu by Irena Jurgielewiczowa); (3) factual records, testimonies and “real life” accounts (e.g. Kamienie na szaniec by Aleksander Kamiński and Dywizjon 303 by Arkady Fiedler); and (4) psychological fiction dwelling on the destructive impact of war (e.g. Pałac pod gruszą by Jadwiga Korczakowska, Chłopcy ze Starówki by Halina Rudnicka, Dzieci Warszawy by Maria Zarębińska, Sprawa honoru by Maria Kann and a series of war stories by Jerzy Szczygieł). Of course, the list of books which tackle war-related themes is much longer, yet these four basic narrative tendencies are perfectly applicable to the titles which are not catalogued here. See Krystyna Kuliczkowska, W świecie prozy dla dzieci (Warszawa: Nasza Księgarnia, 1983), p. 82.
78 Joanna Papuzińska, “ ‘My’ i ‘oni’, czyli stereotypy narodowe w polskiej literaturze dziecięcej,” in Joanna Papuzińska, Dziecko w świecie emocji literackich (Warszawa: Wydawnictwo Naukowe i Edukacyjne SBP, 1996), pp. 99–111, on p. 105.
79 A characteristic example is provided by Cezary Leżeński’s war-time novel series about Jarek and Marek, brave twins, sons of a German woman and a Polish officer. With a perfect command of both Polish and German, the boys become successful spies. Their improbable adventures resemble the exploits of Hans Kloss, a Polish secret agent (codename J-23) in the Abwehr, the protagonist of a cult TV series of 1965, as well as the protagonists of exceptionally popular historical novels by Henryk Sienkiewicz. In Leżeński’s novels, war is an adventure, especially for adolescent boys who for the sake of defending their motherland give up on scampish horseplay without regrets and commit to the grand cause. One of the novels, entitled Jarek i Marek bronią Warszawy [Jarek and Marek Defend Warsaw] includes a symptomatic episode in which the boys meet Józek, their Jewish peer. Józek explains to them why he has to wear an armband with the Star of David on it. Suddenly, a German officer comes along and brutally slaps Józek across the face because the boy failed to see him and bow to him. Upset, Marek threatens in his perfect German to report the officer to his superior for hitting the Jew who “belongs” to Marek.The construction of the Polish boy figures deserves some attention. The Pole is nearly impudently courageous and although he defends the victim, there is something perverse in his idea to pretend to be German. He seizes control not only of the German officer but also of his Jewish acquaintance, who in this way becomes objectified, deprived of any possibility to respond and, worst of all, doomed to victimhood. He humbly observes the order to wear the armband and calls his oppressor “Mr Governor” with an obsequiousness which does not sound ironic. The arrangement of a rebellious Polish hero juxtaposed with a Jewish fugitive victim tends to be upheld and replicated in many contemporary children’s texts about the Holocaust.
80 See Bohdan Królikowski, Ten dzielny miś. Wojenne przygody pluszowego niedźwiadka [The Brave Teddy Bear: A Fluffy Bear’s Adventures in War] (Lublin: Werset, 1995). The book is a continuation of Bohaterski Miś [The Valiant Teddy Bear], a 1919 bestseller by Bronisława Ostrowska. The fluffy toy is taken prisoner, falls into the hands of a German soldier, fights in the Polish air forces in England, turns guerrilla soldier, is jailed by the Gestapo and, finally, takes part in the Warsaw Uprising. The plot of the novel offers no opportunity to introduce the Holocaust theme. Tomi Ungerer’s popular Otto: The Autobiography of a Teddy Bear embodies an entirely different distribution of weighty war motifs, including those related to the Holocaust.
