book review: The True Story of Hansel and Gretel

taken from Goodreads:

"In the last months of the Nazi occupation of Poland, two children are left by their father and stepmother to find safety in a dense forest. Because their real names will reveal their Jewishness, they are renamed "Hansel" and "Gretel." They wander in the woods until they are taken in by Magda, an eccentric and stubborn old woman called "witch" by the nearby villagers. Magda is determined to save them, even as a German officer arrives in the village with his own plans for the children.
Combining classic themes of fairy tales and war literature, this haunting novel of journey and survival, of redemption and memory, powerfully depicts how war is experienced by families and especially by children, and tells a resonant, riveting story."

I taught a unit on Holocaust literature in 8th grade, because The Diary of Anne Frank was a key part of the curriculum at that level. As a result, I've read a lot of novels about the Holocaust. There are only a handful of novels, though, that I think really bring something new to their treatment of this horrific event; of course, Elie Wiesel's Night is one, and Jane Yolen's Briar Rose is another. The latter reminds me of this novel, to an extent, in that both authors use fairy tale themes to structure their stories and to get at the deeper truths that exist within these stories -- both the fairy tales and our shared histories.

Murphy's take on Hansel and Gretel really plays off the more disturbing aspects of the fairy tale, but she also uses those same aspect to set off the small moments of humanity and hope that come to light even during the most horrific atrocities. She uses even the smallest details from the fairy tale, and in such a clever manner. Several of the fairy tale's stereotypes focus on negative views of women, but Murphy takes the Stepmother and the Witch and instead creates two compelling portraits of love. In the end, that's what this novel is about in many ways, and the opening and closing monologues serve to drive that point home.

I found myself completely engrossed in this novel and caring about each of the characters, even though at times they are nothing more than brief sketched portraits. Still, Murphy's unflinching approach, even to the most graphic events, presents this story in such a way that you can't help but be pulled in completely. The language is spare and even brutal, but brilliant and clear too -- almost like the cold brilliance of a diamond, with each facet giving another perspective to the tale. (I did have a small issue with the switching of POV at times, but again, that is so minor in the context of the entire story.)

I don't normally mark passages in novels as I'm reading; it's just something I don't like to do. But with this one, I did find myself marking several spots. One in particular is worth mentioning. One of the things you hear about the Holocaust over and over, in literature, in memoirs, in articles, and more is the recurring refrain of "How could God let this happen?" One of the book's characters makes the same comment and another character replies, "You can't expect God to come down and do our living for us. We have to do that ourselves." (p. 207)

This is a novel that I highly recommend. It's graphic and disturbing, but it also takes a resonant look at war and the effect it has on families and children, and Murphy does it with such a haunting, sparse beauty and style.