I invoke the Holocaust (and to those who feel that I am “using” this issue as a reference, I apologize) because, it seems to be the most effective way of transmitting what, up to now, cannot be properly communicated with words alone. There is an abyss, as Elie Wiesel so eloquently and agonizingly often refers to, that cannot be bridged by language. This is the essence of my offering. In the same manner that it seems quite impossible to transmit the true nature of what it meant to endure the Holocaust, it is, also, almost impossible to convey the painful and disparing state of mind that the sufferer of mental illness (Bipolar) has to bear.

How does one reconcile the need to make what is an irreconcilable comparison? The time, the place, the human and inhuman conditions of the two periods seem hopelessly mismatched; to the point of the ridiculous, to the edge of either blasphemy and/or insanity. Yet, to not make the attempt to reach out, to find some way of transcending what to most is still incomprehensible, is equally indefensible. I am alluding to the recent past which led  to the most inhuman acts perpetrated by humanity on humanity- events that defy language, that mock literature, and make silence both an unbearable virtue and an unjustifyable distortion. In essence, knowingly or unknowingly, we create a rationale for the destruction of memory. We are left with the “Silent Scream.” 

My poetry book, entitled IT, is a collection of poetry and lyrics, many of which were born in the depths (and at various stages) of what is commonly termed as clinical depression, is in no way meant to be taken as an attempt to compare the myriad forms of human suffering. Particularly and emphatically, this should not be taken as any form of reason, excuse or apology for the suffering of the survivors and victims of the Holocaust. It is most definitely not meant,  in any way, to diminish, trivialize or in any other form insult those who lived through or the memory of those who perished in the inferno.  But I protest too much.  The raison d’etre for their writings is not the Holocaust but the attempt to somehow interpret and reconcile the pain of a life mired in recurring depressive states.  You will find many pieces relating to Holocaust (just as you will find cynicism, sarcasm, irony, anger, self deprecation, political persuasion, humour, hope) and I trust a reasonable measure of insight into the many subjects which are here addressed.  Whether the essence of the piece is personal or more universal, it is unquestionably my character and temperament which colours the canvas.  This work is very definitely more an expression of attitude than of analysis.

It is also in the nature of the beast to create what, to varying degrees, becomes a state of amnesia in the sufferer of depression and manic/ depression.  Not only is it difficult to convey the nuances of hopelessness and elation to another person, but the one going through the gyrations forgets what it felt like at the other end of the spectrum. Remembering that one felt bad- how bad – or that one felt good- what is good – does not make for a clear understanding of where one was or is. If I don’t have a more precise idea of where I’ve been, then how can I make someone who’s never been there understand? Again, memory is the key to resolution and deterrent. By having a stronger sense of what the extremes are like, one may be able to avoid future traumas, or, at least, help modify them. 

I am both a child of survivors and someone who has had to deal with bouts of depression throughout most of my existence.  Without the loving, caring, long suffering, iron will of my wife I do not believe I could have survived this ride.  My children, one of whom has recently been found to suffer a similar fate (hopefully one that can be treated more efficiently than mine) have been my great strength in carrying on.  In return, I feel that if I can build a fragile, narrow, even temporary bridge between those who have a message to send and the few (whether professional or layperson)who can receive and maybe understand just a little better, then this effort will have merit.  This is not a work of tragedy, it is an attempt to define and try to come to terms with an all too common affliction that many would or could not face.  Hopefully this is not only a refreshing but a necessary approach to topics which are usually not dealt with by people other than those directly involved (either as the sufferer or the care giver – the advisor or the advisee.)  Poetry forces the writer to say the most with the least number of words.  The painter’s images travel from the eye to the soul; the poet works in reverse. Words and phrases reach out to mind and soul which, in turn, create the “picture.”  If, as Wisel has said, we are caught in a dilema between dialogue and silence, what form of human expression can be used to come even minutely closer to..? Again, language remains an elusive, unreliable tool.  But I must keep trying… We must never stop attempting to communicate.  The answers lie in the questions, which lie in the answers, which even if not wholly understood must lead to some form of empathy.

Harry Kel (July/95)

 Sources For My Manuscript

My manuscript "Holocaust And Depression" has been donated to the following institutions for reference.  

>>  Letter of Acceptance Canadian Jewish Congress

>> Letter of Acceptance Simon Weisenthal Center of Tolerance

>> Canadian Jewish Congress National Archives and Reference Centre

>> Letter of Acceptance Holocast Museum in Washington D.C.