Night

Series: Night Trilogy, Book 1

By: Elie Wiesel / Narrated By: George Guidall

Length: 4 hrs and 17 mins

As haunting now as it was the first time I read it—so very long ago

Seriously, that Elie Wiesel died from natural causes astounds me; after reading Night for the first time, I always expected to open the newspaper to find headlines blaring, announcing to the world that he’d committed suicide. I think I’d be forgiven for such a thought, given how incredibly traumatized he was, how much he and others suffered. In his writing, he lays it all out there, open and with a grueling and unflinching honesty, as though he’ll never ever forgive himself for thoughts and initial knee-jerk reactions. Mostly I’m thinking of how he basically had to look after his father, care for his father, protect his father. All at a time when so much energy was needed for him to simply survive, how it’d be easier on his own. Who hasn’t had such horrific first thoughts? And always followed by crushing, devastating guilt.

I certainly could not survive such guilt, but apparently Wiesel was made of sterner, stronger, stuff—he carried that guilt and then went on to bear witness to some of mankind’s most disgusting atrocities, speaking out eloquently, urging action, displaying courage and conviction.

Night opens with Moshe the Beadle coming back, one of only a tiny handful of individuals to escape execution at the hands of the Nazis, to tell the people of his village not to believe words the Nazis say, that murder awaits them. Nobody listens, it’s much too horrible to be true. Devastated by their disbelief, their unwillingness to hear his words, Moshe shuts down, and all seems well for a time. It’s only as time passes and brutality is part of their everyday experience that people remember what he said but even then, again: Too horrible to be true.

Even on the cattle cars, crammed in together, starving and thirsty, soiling themselves and dying quietly and not so quietly: Where they’re going, all will be better. Otherwise? No, too horrible to be true. Fires in the sky, dust and ash from chimneys that burn day and night? Even in the face of this, it’s all too horrible to comprehend.

Elie and his family survive the trip to Auschwitz only to be separated by gender; he will never see his mother or sisters again. He stays with his father, determined to care for him even as the man displays every indication of having given up—His father will be dead weight, a burden, from then on.

The whole book from that point on is of the teen-aged Wiesel’s efforts to always stay with his father. It never slows down on the pacing, and the writing is stellar. The loss of innocence, the loss of his family, the loss of a God who actually cares—Elie suffered it all.

George Guidall does an exceptionally good job with his narration. Sometimes I have a problem with him (I know, I know! He’s George freakin’ Guidall, and that should place him above fault) as his delivery is sometimes a tad wry. Here, Guidall uses entirely serious tones, more immediate than thoughtful, bringing questions of life, death, godlessness, up and pondering them for the listener to hear, to dissect, to accept and consume. Though Guidall is a man of many years, he believably conveys the tormented psyche and soul of a teen-aged boy who is angry with god, disgusted by his fellow man.

I have to admit that I’ve not listened to any of the other books in The Night Trilogy, so I can’t tell you if any of Wiesel’s deep questions are answered.

We can look at the way he lived his life, however, read/listen to his words. And we can know:

Man never gave him a chance to fall asleep—The atrocities, the genocides, went right on coming.