The Weight of Memory: Suffering, Survival, and the Human Spirit in Polish Literature

Auschwitz fence in Poland. 2017. Wikimedia Commons.

By Natalie Beltran, University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign

Humans are cruel, yet emotion is something that is shared. Experiences change people, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worse. World War II and the Holocaust were things that changed not only Poland but the world as a whole; it stands tall as an example of how humanity once failed. We have a moral obligation to help one another, yet oftentimes, people lose themselves in emotion, ignoring the basic morality that has always united us as a society. However, even as our world developed after the Holocaust, the memories of those horrific years haven’t been forgotten. Through analyzing specific literary works, the experiences that are captured vary, yet all the stories share one commonality: suffering. The most striking pieces I read were Searching for the Stars by Marek Hłasko and Fussy Eaters by John Guzlowski. Searching for the Stars is a fictional story, yet it reflects a narrative of loss and longing in the midst of destruction, a representation of Hłasko’s firsthand accounts from his childhood. Guzlowski’s poems focus on reconnecting with his Polish roots. Fussy Eaters is a direct representation of how World War II and the Holocaust had a lasting impact on Guzlowski’s family, even after they had moved from Eastern Europe to Chicago. Though these stories are deeply personal to their authors, the pain they capture is part of a much larger, shared history. World War II changed people, and it changed Poland too. Through unimaginable suffering, Poles fought to keep their identities alive. These pieces capture human suffering and deserve to be heard.

To understand the complexity of emotions in these pieces, it’s important to acknowledge the authors. Marek Hłasko was born on January 14, 1934; his adolescence was deprived and tainted by World War II, and he expresses his trauma through his writing. Every piece written by Marek Hłasko is full of death and destruction; the only life he’s ever known. Hłasko was only eleven years old when the war had ended, representing the first generation of authors to mature in post-holocaust Poland which became a crucial facet to his writing style. Searching for the Stars takes place in the midst of World War II and follows a nine-year-old boy who falls in love with a girl named Eva. Eva is Jewish and only sees the boy at night. This story represents Hłasko's personal heartbreak; as a young child during the war, he witnessed how hateful and unsparing the Germans were, even towards children his age. Eva’s family quickly learns that it was no longer safe for them to stay in the city. However, the family can’t leave. The mother states, “They say they don’t have anywhere to go. And that whatever happens will happen anyway. (Hłasko, “Searching for the Stars”).” In this scene, Eva’s family accepts their fate and ultimate defeat. This acceptance wasn’t just personal to Eva's family but to the entirety of Poland’s Jewish population at the time. The Jewish faith and culture were a death sentence, and for many, it was inescapable. The boy’s father then remarked: “Maybe God will preserve the Germans; he’ll preserve them for sure. I think that of all the nations, they’re the ones God needs most, and that’s why he’ll preserve them. So that everybody will know and feel what evil looks like. Only for that, so that they can choose good (Hłasko, “Searching for the Stars”).” This statement gives the reader a very personal grasp of the pain that the Germans inflicted upon Jews. Although the boy’s father wasn’t a direct target, he still bore witness to the suffering caused by the Germans. The idea of preserving the Germans wasn’t a positive statement but rather a call to never forget the evil that they represented. As the story progresses, the reader learns the true meaning of the title: Searching for the Stars. It doesn’t refer to the stars in the sky but rather the yellow Stars of David that Jews were forced to wear as identification. As Eva's family is taken by the Germans, she cries, yet the Germans refer to themselves as “star searchers' and give Eva a toy. Moments before Eva's death, a policeman asks for her toy because he has a child of his own and knows her fate before she does. A specific moment is captured as the German soldier tells the policeman, “But you see, she’s also a child.”. “You’re a strange man. You ought to be ashamed of yourself (Hłasko, “Searching for the Stars”).” There is a sense of humility, yet it’s delusional. The Policeman can acknowledge that Eva is an innocent child, but he’s also the one who is deciding her fate, which is death. Although this man is German, he is also human and is able to recognize the emotion and fear sensed on Eva's face. Her innocence is undeniable. Yet he is also condemning her.This story captures the idea that underneath every label that is set upon us, we’re all humans. The only thing which separates us is our circumstances. Hłasko wrote Searching for the Stars for two reasons: to renounce communism and show not only Poles but people around the world the truth, freely writing about Poland without the socialist narrative that was so deeply rooted within the country itself. Hłasko’s story demonstrates that conforming to destruction is much more agonizing than speaking the truth.

Hłasko didn’t adhere to any narrative; never the obedient type, he did not favor Communist authorities yet he got the smallest sense of freedom through his words, depicting Poland’s painful past. Poland’s Socialist Party at the time saw Hłasko as a threat, they believed his writings promoted a moral freedom, giving Poles a voice that was too strong for their liking. 

Hłasko renounced Communism which was seen as a betrayal to the Fatherland, forcing him into exile to Paris in 1958. I chose this story because, even today, Polish national identity is deeply tied to the land, reflecting a history of resilience in the face of hardship. Voices such as Hłaskos changed not only Polish literature but culture as well. The small taste and exposure to freedom depicted in Hlakso writings ignited a fire in Poles, which still burns to this day. I wanted to honor Marek Hłasko, his love for Poland was evident and he constantly longed for his return. Even though he had won awards for his writing in Poland many people quickly dismissed his legacy after his exile. Hłasko died in Germany June 14,1969 and his ashes were finally laid to rest in Poland in 1975 in Warszawa Powazki Cemetery. His grave has a message on it from his mother, “Żył krótko a wszyscy byli odwróceni kochanemu synowi” translated to, “He lived a short life and everyone turned their backs from my beloved son”. Markek Hłasko deserves to be remembered as a beacon of freedom in a time when Poland had none.

While Hłasko wrote about his experiences from exile, author and poet John Guzlowski had a very different connection to his Polish ancestry. Guzlowski was born in 1948 in a refugee camp in Germany; this was because both of his parents were Polish slave laborers during the war. Similarly to Hłasko, Guzlowski had constant reminders of the war and Holocaust throughout his childhood. Growing up as a displaced person in Chicago, some 4,300 miles away from Germany, the pain was always inescapable. From the Auschwitz tattoos to the never-ending stories his parents told, their suffering became a defining part of his identity—one he would only express later in life. He began writing poems about their experiences in college, and he has continued ever since. Guzlowski began to have an emotional connection to his family's past. He believed that writing about his parents kept their voices alive, no matter how painful it was to retell. It’s important to remember that Poland lost World War II, and as a country, it’s never been the same, which is reflected throughout Guzlowkski’s poem. The land holds memory, and the people keep that memory alive. Forgetting about pain is easy, but simple things such as food can bring real experiences back to life. Reminders of World War II are everywhere for the Poles – even at the dinner table. This can be seen in Guzlowski’s short poem “Fussy Eaters”. This poem, although simple, captures the idea of Polish survival and appreciation for even the simplest of things. It starts with the author's mother, Tekla, saying that Guzlowski and his sister Dansuha wouldn’t eat traditional Polish meals such as veal, pigs feet, and fatty Polish sausage. Then the poem shifts to the mother, saying, “In the camps, she would chew on a stick from morning to night” (Guzlowski 33).Food was scarce, and for that reason, many Poles became very resourceful. Although this poem isn’t as dark as Hłaskos short story, it reflects a different narrative. This idea that the pain inflicted on Poles never truly left them and that something as simple as food could bring old memories back to life. The appreciation of the food represents something greater; it represents the resilience of the Polish people and their unwavering strength to never forget the history that has become a part of their identity.

My own identity is deeply rooted in Polish culture. Growing up, my mother would send me to Poland every summer. For two months, I would take in how beautiful the country was; however, I could never avoid acknowledging Poland's past, reflected through my family members. My great-grandfather Zdzisław Bogdan was only a boy when the war began. He grew up in Łódź, at the time the second most densely populated Jewish community in Poland. In the war he lost his family and his childhood. I know now that what he endured was the closest thing to horror that a human could experience, yet he never spoke about anything related to his childhood or the war. The past was just too painful. As a little girl, I vividly remember how many toys and little knickknacks he always had, which always fascinated me. I hold onto those memories: his excitement to show me how his toys worked, and how the little art projects he would start would fill my great-grandmother Lucina's, beautiful garden. I didn’t fully understand then, but I now carry a different perspective. His fascination with toys stemmed from his stolen childhood; he didn’t get to play with toys and just be a boy. Instead, he had to work as a gardener to survive and risked being beaten by Germans for taking something to eat. The scars of his labor were engraved into his back. The toys represented peace for him, the ability to finally enjoy the small things in life, not living in constant survival mode.

Marek Hłasko and John Guzlowski wrote about the importance of keeping Polish history alive. Here I hope to do the same. Writing has allowed me to keep my family's memories alive, honoring the sacrifices of people such as my great-grandfather. These poems and short stories were at times hard to read. The suffering, loss, and heartache can be felt through every word. Nonetheless I believe it is important to read them. As people, we owe it to those who lost their lives to keep their stories alive by feeling these heavy emotions.Words are powerful because they can keep memories alive when people can’t. History is undeniable, and the actions of the Germans were unspeakable. The stories and works of literature from this time period will forever be a reminder that the bounds of human evil are deep, but they also testify to how humanity can grow and learn from the mistakes of the past.

Works Cited 

Guzlowski, John Z. Lightning and Ashes : Poems. Bowling Green, Kentucky, Steel Toe Books, 19 Mar. 2007.

Hłasko, Marek. “Newly Translated Fiction by the Polish Writer Marek Hłasko: “Searching for the Stars.”” Tablet Magazine, 21 Nov. 2014, www.tabletmag.com/sections/arts-letters/articles/searching-for-the-stars. Accessed 9 Feb. 2025.