Maus II: And Here My Troubles Began

With volume II, Maus switches from good to great. Whereas the first volume chronicles the time leading up to the death camps, the second volume focuses almost solely on the time Vladek and Anja spend in Auschwitz. Here, all the humanity they possess is stripped away from them, and Vladek needs to use every ounce of charm, skill, and luck he has to stay alive. The astounding thing about this book is how bad things get-- every time I thought it had to be almost over, things somehow managed to get worse. Which makes you feel especially awful when you remember that it's all real. The book is emotionally draining, yet it left me racing for the conclusion, and that makes the mixed-emotional ending all the more effective. A fantastic, show more harrowing book-- combined with the first, Maus is one of the best Holocaust narratives I've ever read. show less

En la primera parte nos quedamos donde Vladek y Anja son llevado a Auscwitz, sin embargo, este segundo libro, si bien, nos relata lo que Vladek vivió en el campo de concentración y la forma en que él y Anja sobrevivieron, en este segundo tomo, he sentido que lo que más ha enfatizado Art Spiegelman ha sido la relación que tenía con su padre.

Un hombre de personalidad difícil, me parece que Art de alguna manera quería comprender la razón del porque su padre era como era, siento que de alguna manera en algún momento quiso justificar a su padre diciéndose a sí mismo que era así por lo que había vivido durante la Segunda Guerra Mundial.

Lo único cierto es que hay personas complejas y difíciles y Vladek era una de ellas, creo show more que, a mí, como a muchos y como al mismo autor nos habría gustado conocer los diarios de Anja, no sé, de alguna manera creo que Ari culpa a su padre de la muerte de su madre.

Me parece que este libro, es sobre cualquier otra cosa una exposición de honestidad brutal, pero también un tributo de amor... amar alguien de personalidad fácil tranquilo, amoroso, es muy fácil, amar a una persona complicada, dura y difícil, engrandece.

Como he dicho hay mucha honestidad en este libro, sobre todo en esta segunda entrega, el mismo autor se auto refleja como inmaduro, con miedo, con grandes situaciones con las que, al menos hasta que escribió esto, simplemente era incapaz de lidiar.

Con toda la imperfección de la personalidad y del carácter de Vladek, ame al personaje, tal vez porque el mismo Art supo transmitir el amor y admiración que sentía por su padre, me parece que fue un hombre de muchos recursos, no sólo fue un sobreviviente, es que el mismo se buscó su supervivencia a base de una gran tenacidad.

Mi gran Laguna, la historia de su madre.

Un libro que me ha dejado una gran huella, ha sido una aventura leerlo, duro, honesto e imperfecto, pero que deja una gran enseñanza.

Me ha encanastado las referencias ilustrativas de animales y me ha parecido harto intrigante la parte en que se pone a si mismo con una máscara de ratón, dice tanto de sí mismo tan sólo con esa imagen.

Hablando de imágenes, no voy a mentir al principio del primer libro me parecieron, tan... ¿insulsas? No sé si esa es la palabra, porque bueno, he visto otros con ilustraciones perfectas, casi obras de arte, conforme fui avanzando he sabido apreciar el arte de este libro, tiene mucho, más del que se ve a primera vista, para empezar, es original, en segundo lugar, dice tanto con ellas, algunas tan desgarradoras y tristes, una genialidad lo de los animales.

Sin duda un libro realmente fuera de orbita. show less

"¡Cuántos libros se han escrito sobre el Holocausto!¿Para qué? La gente no cambio...Quizá necesite otro Holocausto más grande"

Esta segunda parte es más cruda y conmovedora, tenemos a Vladek en Auschwitz donde sufre toda clase de riesgos pero al mismo tiempo tiene la suerte de su lado lo que le permite sobrevivir.

No me adentrare mucho en todas las cosas que sufrió Vladek porque mis palabras denigrarían esta historia, pero sólo diré que la manera en que esta contada y las imágenes que se muestran hacen que la historia no sólo sea más impactante sino increíblemente difícil de no imaginar...nos encontramos en un momento donde la familia se traiciona cuando no hay dinero, donde ser buen samaritano es algo que ha dejado de show more existir y donde todo segundo es el pánico en sí mismo.

"-Todo lo que paso Vladek. Es un milagro que haya sobrevivido.

-Ajá, pero en ciertos aspectos no sobrevivió."

Hay dos cosas que se me hicieron muy importantes la primera es la sensación que te deja el final, los nazis no son los únicos que se beneficiaron de la purga judía, los polacos (que son quienes se encuentran aquí, aunque es muy probable que lo mismo sucediera en otras partes de Europa y Asia) tomaron todo lo que el nacionalismo les ofreció y, al finalizar el régimen, no estaban dispuestos a soltarlo tan poco dispuestos que incluso mataban a los judíos que regresaban por sus pertenencias con tal de quedárselas. El segundo aspecto es que, como humanos, pareciera que siempre tenemos necesidad de sentirnos superiores a alguien más, sin importar que nosotros mismos hayamos sido denigrados en el libro I hay vestigios de que Vladek tiene prejuicios raciales, y en este libro queda muy claro que, efectivamente, lo es,supongo que no queda más que aceptar que es parte de nuestra "esencia humana".

Para finalizar diré una opinión muy personal acerca de la guerra el régimen nazi es la prueba de que la ambición de la mayoría, tener alguien a quien culpar y alguien con la suficiente labia para llevarte a aceptar todas esas situaciones son una combinación temible. Gran parte de Europa y Asia estaba dispuesta a tomar las medidas de Hitler sí eso les permitiría ganar poder y dinero, independientemente de que este "progreso" estuviera manchado de sangre ¿Cuantas personas habrán terminado sus días con la satisfacción de no haber matado a nadie y culpando únicamente a los dirigentes del partido? show less

Maus was compelling to read, and all the more so for being a graphic novel. I confess to having dismissed it early on due to the format, but then discovered Speigelman’s storytelling genius. His technique of pitting mice and cats against one another particularly impressed me; it’s a gentle way to highlight the gulf between polar opposite groups, to soften (a bit) the horror of what actually happened, and yet to still relate a faithful account of his father’s experience. Reading Maus (and Maus II) put Speigelman pretty high on my list(s).

Together with the much-acclaimed first volume of Spiegelman's Maus (1987—not reviewed), this unusual Holocaust tale will forever alter the way serious readers think of graphic narratives (i.e., comic books). For his unforgettable combination of words and pictures, Spiegelman draws from high and low culture, and blends autobiography with the story of his father's survival of the concentration camps. In funny-book fashion, the all-too-real characters here have the heads of animals—the Jews are mice, the Nazis are rats, and the Poles are pigs—a stark Orwellian metaphor for dehumanized relations during WW II. Much of Spiegelman's narrative concerns his own struggle to coax his difficult father into remembering a past he'd rather show more forget. What emerges in father Vladek's tale is a study in survival; he makes it through by luck, randomness, and cleverness. Physically strong, he bluffs his way through the camps as a tinsmith and a shoemaker, and also exploits his ability with languages. Every day in Auschwitz, and later in Dachau, demands new bribes and masterly bartering. All of this helps explain Vladek's art of survival in the present: his cheap, miserly behavior; his disappointment over Spiegelman's marriage to a non-Jew; his constant criticism of his own second wife and his son; and even his inexcusable racism. Haunted by the brother who died in the camps, Spiegelman (born in postwar Sweden) also mourns his mother, who survived only to commit suicide in the late 60's. Within the time span of the writing of Maus (1978-91), Vladek died, and Spiegelman now must sort out his complex feelings as he reflects on the success of the first volume—a success built on the tragedy of the Holocaust. With all his doubts, Spiegelman pushes on, realizing that his book deserves a place in the ongoing struggle between memory and forgetting. Full of hard-earned humor and pathos, Maus (I and II) takes your breath away with its stunning visual style, reminding us that while we can never forget the Holocaust, we may need new ways to remember. show less

Together with the much-acclaimed first volume of Spiegelman's Maus (1987—not reviewed), this unusual Holocaust tale will forever alter the way serious readers think of graphic narratives (i.e., comic books). For his unforgettable combination of words and pictures, Spiegelman draws from high and low culture, and blends autobiography with the story of his father's survival of the concentration camps. In funny-book fashion, the all-too-real characters here have the heads of animals—the Jews are mice, the Nazis are rats, and the Poles are pigs—a stark Orwellian metaphor for dehumanized relations during WW II. Much of Spiegelman's narrative concerns his own struggle to coax his difficult father into remembering a past he'd rather show more forget. What emerges in father Vladek's tale is a study in survival; he makes it through by luck, randomness, and cleverness. Physically strong, he bluffs his way through the camps as a tinsmith and a shoemaker, and also exploits his ability with languages. Every day in Auschwitz, and later in Dachau, demands new bribes and masterly bartering. All of this helps explain Vladek's art of survival in the present: his cheap, miserly behavior; his disappointment over Spiegelman's marriage to a non-Jew; his constant criticism of his own second wife and his son; and even his inexcusable racism. Haunted by the brother who died in the camps, Spiegelman (born in postwar Sweden) also mourns his mother, who survived only to commit suicide in the late 60's. Within the time span of the writing of Maus (1978-91), Vladek died, and Spiegelman now must sort out his complex feelings as he reflects on the success of the first volume—a success built on the tragedy of the Holocaust. With all his doubts, Spiegelman pushes on, realizing that his book deserves a place in the ongoing struggle between memory and forgetting. Full of hard-earned humor and pathos, Maus (I and II) takes your breath away with its stunning visual style, reminding us that while we can never forget the Holocaust, we may need new ways to remember. show less

In this second half of Maus, Artie shares with us all of his reservations about what he is creating and what it costs him. It's little wonder, as the first volume was only the preliminaries of the story. Here is where he had to detail the horrors of Auschwitz-Birkenau and all of its inner workings. He depicts his father as telling about it matter-of-factly, in an almost off-hand and distracted manner. The lasting effects on his father show through in other ways; his high-strung reactions to the most minor wastefulness, and his ingrained miserliness. Artie comments that not all survivors came out like that, but perhaps those were the very traits that helped his father survive and could consequently never be shaken off or balanced.

There show more are elements in this story that I hadn't heard in other survivor tellings, equaling anything else for their horror. I was still struck with the appropriate horror impression, but I had to pause and consider them in the abstract. In this respect the graphic novel format put too much distance between me and what I was reading, but that is probably just me. One thing I do think missing from Maus is the context. These father-son discussions are between two Jews who don't need to explain the Holocaust to one another, but a non-Jewish reader can't get the full background from it of Hitler's pogrom and 'final solution'. It misses addressing the "why". On the other hand ... is there actually any good answer to that question? show less