Fic­tion

This Dark­ness Will Nev­er End

  • Review
By – April 21, 2025

Hun­gar­i­an-born author Edith Bruck sur­vived depor­ta­tion to five con­cen­tra­tion camps, lost her fam­i­ly, and set­tled in Italy in 1954. Her award-win­ning work — includ­ing more than twen­ty books — is often com­pared to that of Anne Frank and Pri­mo Levi, and yet is hard­ly known in the Unit­ed States. This impres­sive book of short sto­ries, orig­i­nal­ly pub­lished in 1962, and fresh­ly trans­lat­ed from Ital­ian by Jeanne Bon­ner, will hope­ful­ly help to change that.

This Dark­ness Will Nev­er End does not direct­ly depict the Holo­caust. Instead, this col­lec­tion of fable-like tales plunges us into the lives of poor, rur­al, Jew­ish fam­i­lies — most­ly from the point of view of women and chil­dren — before, dur­ing, and after the war. We know their future, but they do not. This van­ished world is vivid­ly ren­dered and incred­i­bly poignant, par­tic­u­lar­ly because of what is inferred. 

In the title sto­ry, a young broth­er and old­er sis­ter are forced into a box­car of Jews head­ed for slaugh­ter. The broth­er is blind and his sis­ter, used to describ­ing the world to her broth­er, reas­sures him they are in a well-fur­bished train car: There are plen­ty of red vel­vet seats and love­ly cur­tains. The peo­ple are well dressed and all look very nice, but they are weak — some are suf­fer­ing even more than you are.” But Beni com­plains that he doesn’t feel well, insist­ing, This dark­ness will nev­er end. I know it.” Know­ing and not know­ing is also at the heart of anoth­er sto­ry, Sylvia,” told from the point of view of a non-Jew­ish boy who res­cues a child thrown from a train and, in turn, is res­cued by her. 

In most of these sto­ries, there is a wide cul­tur­al gap between the gen­er­a­tions. Par­ents live, think, and act as if they are oper­at­ing with­in the rules of the parochial past, while their chil­dren have one foot in the cos­mopoli­tan twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry. They yearn to be free of the old ways and dream of escap­ing to Israel. For girls, the clash between gen­er­a­tions is espe­cial­ly dif­fi­cult; chil­dren sleep at the foot of the fam­i­ly bed, and par­ents can’t under­stand when one daugh­ter refus­es. It’s an era of huge change, and Bruck shows it to us in all its sad­ness, humor, and beauty.

Eleanor Foa is an author, jour­nal­ist, and cor­po­rate writer. Her mem­oir MIXED MES­SAGES: Reflec­tions on an Ital­ian Jew­ish Fam­i­ly and Exile comes out in Novem­ber 2019. Her work appears in nation­al news­pa­pers, mag­a­zines and web­sites. She is the author of Whith­er Thou Goest and In Good Com­pa­ny, Pres­i­dent of Eleanor Foa Asso­ciates (eleanor​foa​.com), past pres­i­dent of the Amer­i­can Soci­ety of Jour­nal­ists and Authors, and received lit­er­ary res­i­den­cies at Yad­do and the Vir­ginia Cen­ter for the Cre­ative Arts.

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