As I read this last section of the book, I found with surprise that I was almost as numb as Wiesel himself. Reading phrases that should be shocking and disturbing, I was almost as indifferent and emotionless as him. I think it's because I've become so used to his detachment- at this point, he's so weak that he doesn't let his emotions get in the way of his only goal- to survive. Because of this, he's able to confront the piles of dead people with indifference, even though some of them could have been his neighbors, teachers, or peers. He says, "We started to march once more. The dead remained in the yard, under the snow without even a marker, like fallen guards. No one recited Kaddish over them. Sons abandoned the remains of their fathers without a tear." (92) The Nazis got exactly what they wanted, just short of exterminating the Jewish people- they've completely dehumanized them. Even stronger than appearances and qualities, I'd say emotions are the greatest driving point of our humanity- love, anger, jealousy. If we can't feel anything, we're nothing. So even when the Jews lose their names, personalities, appearances, they're still human. But it's when they become completely numb that that sense of any kind of humanity is gone.
When Wiesel was stuck under the pile of dead people, in danger of suffocation, I couldn't help but cringe. He says, "Someone had lain down on top of me, smothering me. I couldn't breathe through my mouth or my nose. Sweat was running down my forehead and my back. This was it; the end of the road. A silent death, suffocation. No way to scream, to call for help." (94) Suffocation is one of my biggest fears, in my opinion one of the worst ways to die. When I see people drown in movies, I can't help imagining- how long were they struggling for? How long did it take them to stop trying to breathe? It's so disturbing to me. I was glad that Wiesel was able to escape the pile, physically clawing out of a pile of dead people. It's just yet another example of how animalistic the prisoners have become.
Being so attached to music, the section with Juliek and his violin struck a chord with me. Yes, I realize that this was a trivial thing compared to his father's death, but for some reason, the description of Juliek playing his heart out before he died and dying next to his violin stuck with me more than Wiesel's father's death did. Wiesel remembers, "All I could hear was the violin, and it was as if Juliek's soul had become his bow. He was playing his life. His whole being was gliding over the strings. His unfulfilled hopes. His charred past, his extinguished future. He played that which he would never play again." (95) I've definitely had days when I sat and played guitar and sang for hours, as if I would never do so again. It's an indescribable feeling, where nothing else matters but the music and you don't have to think about anything else. It's nearly tangible how much Juliek felt his music. I think that's what separates the amazing music from the mediocre- it's easy to tell when people are actually passionate about what they're singing/playing. It's just so powerful, how Juliek's violin was so important to him, as if his soul was threaded through its strings.