In the Prologue to his study of moral life in the Nazi concentration camps and the Soviet gulag, titled Facing the Extreme, Tzvetan Todorov examines the ‘moral acts’ of Tadeusz Borowski’s stories about life at Auschwitz. He juxtaposes the ‘real’ experiences of the ’real’ Borowski at Auschwitz with those of the author’s central character, also named Tadeusz, as Borowski’s pitiless accounts of life in Auschwitz are told in the first person. Todorov draws his readers’ attention to a clear distinction existing between author and protagonist (we learn that the ‘real’ Borowski behaved totally differently from his narrative self, his commitment to the well-being of others exceeding the realms of mere devotion), since he is primarily interested in the implications of Borowski’s narrative choices. By writing himself in the totality of human degradation and corruption encircling the hierarchical structure of the camp(s), Borowski, according to Todorov, writes about the horrors of Auschwitz the only way he saw fit/possible: assuming full responsibility “for the worst humiliation that the camp inflicted on its inmates.”
What does this historically and socially detached observation encompass? Do Todorov’s assumptions about Borowski’s choice of an engaging narrative strategy reflect on the author’s views about the state of morality in a totalitarian project? Is morality just another social construct whose viability depends on the maintenance of strictly outlined democratic principles of political organization?
If we are to look for affirmative answers to these perplexing ambiguous questions on the pages of Borowski’s truthful prose, the search for a certain definiteness escapes us as we read accounts of the author’s alter ego joining the ranks of kapos, assisting in the expedient “relief” of the totalitarian state’s burden, helping men, women, children, living, dead, crippled, all in all people who walk on two different paths, reach the same end, the crematorium one-sided doors.
Tadeusz, the central character of Borowski’s photo-texts, continuously negotiates a pitiful and cynical existence as he reaches for a body in the suffocating darkness of the ramp trains, another man’s trinkets, the residue of a turnip soup container. He declares that “the whole world is really like the concentration camp…the world is ruled by neither justice nor reality…the world is ruled by power”, and we get the feeling that here Borowski is not speaking only from his own ‘hands-on’ experience. Todorov revisits this narrative choice on the part of the author as an attempt to expose the world for what it is, a battlefield where humanity engages in survival tactics. In other words, Borowski’s recollected and refigured memories fashion a narrative illustration of the principals behind Social Darwinism, which may account for the absence of ‘little acts of heroism’ on the pages of his collection.
It is necessary to introduce a certain distinction here, for the same Tadeusz Borowski also remembered something remarkable about the possibility of humanity’s endurance, “I smile and I think that man will never cease to rediscover man-through love. And that this is the most important thing on earth, and the most lasting.” This realization begs another observation. When and where is such a rediscovery of humanity possible, before or after an individual has experienced unbelievable suffering though prolonged starvation, the constant threat of annihilation, habituating oneself in an environment of imminent terrorization and assault? Is love of/in/among man(kind) possible after the Auschwitzes of the twentieth century?
It seems that Tadeusz Borowski’s stories evoke more questions than answers. But then again, resonant art forms tend to stir up conflicting emotions/trials within the reader/spectator. However, if I am to single out one concrete, tangible realization which Borowski’s prose emanates, at least for me, it would touch upon his implicit representation of matters of conscience under extreme situations. As human beings, we are always given a choice. It may be an undesirable one, such as choosing a lesser evil over a greater one. Borowski’s conscious choice as writer was to talk about Auschwitz without holding anything back, thus reminding us, the far more fortunate ones, about the importance of this human right, especially when human actions are dictated by prevalent social conditions of maximum pressure and exertion.