1136 Wiesel, Elie
Broad-Axe,” “Song of the Exposition,” and “A Song
for Occupations.”
Whitman’s catalogues of workers and work are
amazingly comprehensive: “I will not have a single
person slighted or left away,” the speaker states
boldly in “Song of Myself,” and the catalogues that
follow indeed include a number of professions that
might usually be considered less than noble, includ-
ing “the kept-woman, sponger, thief ” (ll. 374–375),
the “cotton-field drudge,” and the “cleaner of privies”
(l. 1,003). In spite of this inclusive spirit, however,
Whitman’s poetic vision has a special place for the
male body that has been toned through physical
labor—the narrow waists and “massive arms” of the
blacksmiths (l. 222), the “polish’d and perfect limbs”
of the black wagon driver (l. 229), and the “brawny
limbs” of firemen (l. 1,042), to name just a few—and
the speaker states his preference for scars, beards,
and tans over smooth, pale skin (ll. 1,242–1,243).
In more than one place in the long catalogue of
occupations in section 15 of “Song of Myself,” the
laborer’s name is repeatedly paired with the profes-
sion, creating a sense of timeless, even bucolic unity
between the worker performing and the work being
performed: “The floor-men are laying the floor, the
tinners are tinning the roof, the masons are call-
ing for mortar . . . / Seasons pursuing each other
the plougher ploughs, the mower mows, and the
winter-grain falls on the ground” (ll. 313, 316). In a
later section of the same poem, however, Whitman
paints a far less harmonious portrait of labor and the
laborer, one of inequality and alienation that antici-
pates the concerns of literary realism and naturalism
in the late 19th century: “Many sweating, ploughing,
threshing, and then the chaff for payment receiving,
/ A few idly owning, and they the wheat continu-
ally claiming” (ll. 1,073–1,074). In any case, Leaves
of Grass is easily broad enough in scope to allow for
both perspectives on labor in the modern age even
as these views contradict one another.
James B. Kelley
wiESEL, ELiE Night (1956, 1960)
After surviving one of the worst crimes ever com-
mitted against humanity, Elie Wiesel (b. 1928) took
a 10-year vow of silence before writing about it. His
book Night is one of the first and most powerful
autobiographical accounts of the Holocaust ever
written. Yet, after finally completing his first version
of this text, he had difficulty finding a publisher for
it, as most thought there would be little interest in
reading about such a tragic experience.
Night began as an 862-page manuscript that was
condensed to 245 pages and published in Yiddish
in 1956 under the title Un Di Velt Hot Geshvign
(And the world remained silent). Two years later,
Wiesel translated this text into French, and his edi-
tor, Jerome Lindon, abridged the translation to 178
pages and published it as La Nuit (Night), a title the
two men decided on together. Since then, Night has
been read by readers around the world, being trans-
lated into more than 30 languages; it first appeared
in English as a 109-page memoir in 1960. In 2006,
Wiesel released a new English version of Night that
corrects some small factual errors such as previously
incorrect details about his age when he entered con-
centration camps.
In helping to shape our contemporary under-
standing of the Holocaust, Night chronicles Wiesel’s
experiences from the Nazi invasion of his home in
Sighet, Transylvania, through his imprisonment
in two ghettos (both in his hometown) and four
concentration camps (Birkenau, Auschwitz, Buna,
and Buchenwald). It concludes with his release from
Nazi subjugation near the end of World War II. As
the text moves its readers through Wiesel’s experi-
ences with oppression, it explores several important
themes such as innocence and experience, iden-
tity, and memory.
Russell NurickIdentIty in Night
Elie Wiesel introduces the theme of identity in Night
through his brief anecdote about Moshe the Beadle.
At first, Moshe takes pride in his Jewish heritage
and has strong faith in its religious tenets. Ironically,
even though he holds the position of synagogue
caretaker and has a deep interest in religion, he is
able to make himself virtually invisible to the major-
ity of Sighet’s Jews. As a result, they find him less
problematic than most of their other impoverished
brethren, whom they perceive as a socioeconomic
burden. However, after Moshe returns to Sighet—