Professional Documents
Culture Documents
DOI:10.1057/ajp.2012.13
or groups, video interviews, house visits and the Frankfurt “Meeting Point
for Survivors of the Shoah.” Transmission of the trauma is not only explored
with the Second Generation, but also with the survivors themselves, the
First Generation; and thus delineating the scenic memory of the Shoah as
a trans-generational coping and mourning process, both individual and
social.
The project, tied with studies dating back to 1980, observes the long-
term psycho-social consequences of the Shoah, specifically in Germany;
and thus distinguishes the different post traumatic effects of living in coun-
tries like the United States, Canada or Israel (cf. Grünberg, 1983, 2000a, b,
2004; Grünberg and Straub, 2001). The processes of the scenic memory
of the Shoah (cf. Grünberg, 2012, forthcoming) are investigated from various
observer perspectives by a non-Jewish German psychoanalyst and a Jewish
analyst in Germany. Both have been engaged with this question for many
years in practice and in theory.
Since transmission of the trauma is not directly observable, it must be
extrapolated hermeneutically. We present this extrapolation in successive
steps. First, relevant scenes are selected from the analytic material and
described phenomenologically (cf. Markert, in print). They are then worked
through analytically and conceptualized. Finally, experts are consulted
on the psycho-social, late consequences of the Shoah, thus effecting
a further consolidation of the psycho-analysis of the scenic memory of the
Shoah.
This procedure will be applied to the following on the basis of a psycho-
analytical treatment. The psychoanalyst in attendance was Kurt Grünberg,
and Friedrich Markert accompanied the sessions as supervisor. The pres-
entation is punctuated by brief theoretical explanations with reference to
the specialist literature. The final part of the presentation offers a critical
discussion of the concepts of “concretism” and the “world beyond meta-
phor,” in order to offer contrast with our own approach.
father had both been married to other partners prior to the Shoah. Both
spouses and their respective children were murdered by the Nazis. When
the deportation of children took place in the ghetto of Lodz in September
1943, her mother believed she had saved one of her daughters by concealing
her under her coat, but her ruse was discovered by a German soldier. He
tore the child from her arms and threw the girl onto a truck. Naomi’s mother
herself became the victim of medical experiments by the Nazis, being
“disfigured” in such horrific way that many years later a neighborhood
child ran away screaming when witnessing her physical deformations.
Naomi’s father also became a victim of Nazi persecution. He witnessed
his heavily pregnant wife and 2-year-old son being “sent into the gas” after
so-called “selection.”
These traumatic experiences left their mark on the atmosphere in Naomi’s
family. Daily life was suffused with dejection and hopelessness. The outside
world was felt alien and inimical; they lived a completely secluded life.
The air was thick with the permanent sense of the danger that “it” might
happen again. The parents, both illiterate, sat with their children in a dark-
ened room in the evenings. There was an unspoken understanding that it
was not appropriate to turn on the light or withdraw to another room. The
family stayed together, nobody was allowed to be missing, but no stranger
was permitted to join them either. There were photos of the murdered family
members hanging on the living room wall. Life was an endless “sitting shiva”
for the dead (Jewish mourning ritual). It was clear that the parents suffered
from survivor guilt and the panic of loss, which stiffed all signs of life.
Notably, her father objected to everything that was alive. The present
was always compared with Auschwitz, “Nothing else counted compared
with that,” Naomi said. Her father could be indignant, “Wus lachst Di?”
(How can you laugh?). Any form of cheerfulness was nipped in the bud.
Even when her father took his daughter on his motorbike, his trauma came
along for the ride. For instance, when he had stopped at a crossroad, he
had the habit of driving off when the lights were red for all traffic. He
refused to follow rules that applied to everybody, as if to say, “After Ausch-
witz I am never going to let myself be told what to do or not to do.” He
was even “playing” with the lives of his children by re-enacting a possible
catastrophe in this way, actually tempting fate.
Naomi’s mother particularly suffered from this family life. She preserved
a certain zest for life and attempted to connect with other people despite
her terrible history of persecution. Sometimes, she had to “run out of the
house” in order to escape the family isolation, if only for a little while.
Naomi could identify with this aspect of her mother, her attempts to come
in contact with the world outside, as she undertook the task of dealing with
the outside world where family affairs were concerned.
PSYCHOANALYTIC GRAVE WALK 211
There was little room in their family life for being a child with needs and
wishes. Naomi began washing the dishes on her own initiative when she
was 4-year-old, using a little stool to reach the sink. She increasingly felt
the family’s well-being and fortunes were dependent on her initiative. Every-
thing seemed to be loaded onto her shoulders. Naomi and her sister not
only had to take care of themselves, but also their parents; and later, Naomi
was solely responsible for organizing the countless family relocations.
Naomi’s parents were massively traumatized, they were so involved with
their traumatic memories (cf. Krystal, 1968), it was difficult for them at
times to sufficiently take care of their children. Mario Erdheim (2006)
described the way in which parentification (cf. also Stierlin, 1978) in such
families leads to a dissolution of generational borders, meaning “the child
is treated as an adult and must as a rule carry out similar functions”
(Erdheim, 2006, p. 25).
Too much care giving and loving attention are at times closely related
to survivors’ difficulty in empathizing with their children’s world. As well,
the children’s profound loyalty to their parents often prevents them from
being able to identify and argue through conflicts with them.
The following example illustrates this concept. Naomi’s parents had
managed to buy beautiful patent-leather shoes for their daughters; shoes that
would have been unthinkable in the world of Auschwitz. They were convinced
their children would wear such shoes with enthusiasm and gratitude, without
considering the shoes were anything but suitable for the children in the cold
of winter. They were right. Naomi suffered from freezing cold feet, just as
her parents froze in the camp. Unconsciously, the parents transmitted this
memory onto their children. She did not dare ask for warmer winter shoes—
a conflict that later became her adult compulsion of buying excessive amounts
of shoes so she would never have to suffer from cold feet again.
Naomi was the daughter her father desired and preferred. He called her
sister “kalecke” (Yiddish for cripple). He “promenaded” Naomi on the street,
her mother and sister had to sit at the back of the car while Naomi sat next
to her father in the front. Conversely, she had to tolerate her father’s failure
to acknowledge her achievements. When she had received her high-school
diploma he said, “Wus toig dus? Ma Sin wat gewein a Dokter in Dane Juhrn!”
(What’s the big deal? My son would already have his Ph.D. at your age).
It became clear that Naomi was a “replacement child” compelled to
experience her own life as “Ersatz” for the life of her murdered siblings.
ANALYTIC RELATIONSHIP
Naomi enquired about the development of the analytic relationship in one
of the first sessions. I remarked almost jokingly, “Of course you will fall in
212 GRÜNBERG AND MARKERT
love with me.” Naomi rebuffed my response with some force, as I thought,
“Wait and see.”
A few sessions later, Naomi spoke of a “grave walk” (Grabeswanderung)
she was going to take. At first, I thought this was a parapraxis: hadn’t she
meant to speak of a “walk on the edge” (Gratwanderung)? It was both. And
now our “grave walk,” being at the same time a “walk on the edge,” began
in earnest. Naomi repeatedly recalled her father’s depictions of Auschwitz
and his death march. Her descriptions were so immediate and “lively” as
if she had been there and experienced it herself. I was fascinated and deeply
moved by everything she told me, so much so, I was fully prepared to
accompany her on this grave walk through Auschwitz; a place with no
graves at all. I was unwilling, however, to leave her alone with her memo-
ries and thought, “We can handle it together.”
Naomi found words for many things that she remembered from her
father’s stories. Something happened scenically in the analytic process,
something that could not be verbalized, where language cannot reach. It
involved my own walk, following the trail of my own father’s death march.
I, too, had no words for it at first, and only understood that later.
During that phase, not only in her retelling, but also non-verbally, Naomi
plunged deeper and deeper into the world of the murdered and the survi-
vors. Escape seemed impossible, as she seemed to have physically arrived
at the concentration camp.
Barocas and Barocas (1979, 1980) described the following phenomenon
as “the most important aspect of the psychology of children of survivors”
(see Kestenberg, 1989), “The children of survivors show symptoms which
would be expected if they actually lived through the Holocaust [….] The
children come to feel that the Holocaust is the single most critical event
that has affected their lives, although it occurred before they were born”
(ibid.) (p. 67). Although Robert Prince (1998), however, clarifies the problem
with such references to Children of Survivors; namely, the conflation of
characteristics and attributions leading to over-generalization, and, there-
fore the necessity to acknowledge the heterogeneity of both survivors and
children.
As though in a time-tunnel (Kestenberg, 1982, p. 141), Naomi and I
immersed ourselves in the world of persecution and annihilation. “Trans-
position” is what Judith Kesterberg calls this unconscious identificatory
participation of the Second Generation in their parents’ traumatic life story
(ibid., p. 148), but also understanding it in the sense of mourning of lost
family members (ibid., p. 157).
Naomi increasingly withdrew from social life and lost more and more
weight. So much so, in fact, I was shocked and alarmed to see her looking
like a concentration camp inmate. Her downward spiral caused great
PSYCHOANALYTIC GRAVE WALK 213
anxiety in me as I worried she would not survive our grave walk together.
I wondered now how to rescue her from the existential distress of the walk
on which I had accompanied her.
It was not until working through this phase of treatment in the research
project that I realized Naomi and I had been enacting a joint “death march”
and a joint grave walk. Not only did I identify with Naomi’s father, but
also with my father, who I felt very close to at the time. On my father’s
death march, he and his friend, David de Haas, had supported, held and
literally pulled my father’s cousin, Walter, who was weakened and tired.
When Walter finally collapsed from exhaustion, they had to leave him
behind. Walter was shot—only minutes before the German soldiers had
“suddenly gone on the lam” because of the approaching Soviet front. They
were free, minutes after they had to abandon Walter.
This formed my initially unconscious fear that Walter’s misfortune might
be repeated. Naomi might not survive “our death march” because I had
not sufficiently held and carried her. Perhaps, I should have preserved her
from going on this march from the start. Above all, I feared my guilt of her
not surviving, just as my father lived all his life with the guilt of assuming
responsibility for Walter’s death.
Some weeks before this crisis and probably influenced by my own life
motto, I had intuitively told Naomi about Viktor Frankl’s book Man’s Search
for Meaning (1959) (its original German title, translated as “Nevertheless
Say Yes to Life”). A short time afterward, she began to read Frankl’s book.
She was particularly impressed by his description of the time shortly after
the liberation from Auschwitz, in which he wrote:
We are going […] through the fields, a comrade and myself, towards the camp
from which we have only recently been liberated; suddenly there is a field with
young seedlings before us. I involuntarily try to avoid them, but he grabs my
arm and pushes me through the field with him. I mumble something about not
crushing the seedlings. He gets annoyed: there is an angry look in his eyes and
he shouts at me; “You don’t say! So they took too little from us? They gassed my
wife and child—not to mention all the other things—and you want to stop me
from crushing a few oat shoots ….” (Frankl, 1959, p. 145)
Naomi was quite sure her father would not have shown consideration
either. He would have said, “Sa wi sa—is toig gunish. Es hat alles keinen
Wert—alles in Drerd” (“Anyway it’s all useless. It’s all valueless. Into the
earth with it!”) Her father would have “put one foot before the other, step
for step, no matter what he trod into” without taking consideration of
anything or anybody.
Now I began to fight for Naomi’s survival, asking about her food intake
and emphasizing that analysis was not about ending one’s life. It was about
214 GRÜNBERG AND MARKERT
living. Her father, I said, had impressively displayed his will to survive;
however, mechanically he moved along the rut in which he found
himself.
Naomi plunged deep into the horrors of Auschwitz and the death march.
Yossi Hadar (1991) states that though the “chronological time” of the
Second Generation actually began after the Shoah, the time of birth as
experienced emotionally is in the concentration camp. The Second Gener-
ation was “born into the Holocaust,” so to speak, “unlike their parents,
who were born in the normal world that existed before the Holocaust”
(ibid., p. 163). Naomi’s emaciation process might therefore be inter-
preted as a physical re-enactment of the concentration camp situation
(cf. Küchenhoff, 2000).
We experienced and suffered through the death march and grave walk
together for a long time. It was not only talking about that terrible time,
but also in particular, a non-verbal, scenic, wordless process, where
language does not reach. It was only in supervisory discussion and working
through the material in the research project where I gained sufficient inner
distance from my own involvement in the analytic process. That allowed
me to recognize that a scenic memory of the Shoah had manifested itself
in the analysis.
This recognition had a liberating effect. I realized we had to end the
death march in a way that ensured Naomi would not collapse and fail, but
to find a way to “nevertheless say Yes to life.” In my interpretations,
I repeated my realization that we were “scenically remembering” the death
march and grave walk together. Naomi felt profoundly understood by this
interpretation, which created a special closeness between us. At the same
time, she frequently said that she had no energy left and did not know
whether she would ever manage to get out of the misery and suffering she
was experiencing.
But I began to hope we could make it through together. I recalled my
remark at the beginning of analysis that the patient would “of course” fall
in love with me. Naomi’s aggressive–destructive vital force became evident
directly after a session when she stepped on the gas instead of the break
and rammed into a parked automobile, causing an axle fracture. She had
only bought the car on her analyst’s advice because she believed she could
not afford such a beautiful new automobile. My interpretation pointed to
her potential aggressive and destructive powers, whereas she tended to
negate her vitality. She most likely rejected my endeavors out of guilt and
anxiety by turning her destructiveness against herself, instead of integrating
it into the analytic relationship. These vital elements were similarly
suppressed in her relationship to her parents, who were deeply injured and
traumatized. All the same, this accident appeared to be constructive,
PSYCHOANALYTIC GRAVE WALK 215
NOTE
1. We owe the following reflections to an intensive personal exchange with Angela Moré.
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