By Élie Wiesel
From his early years along with his loving Jewish relatives to the horrors of Auschwitz to his existence as a Nobel Prize-winning novelist, Elie Wiesel tells his tale. Passionate and poignant, All Rivers Run to the ocean is an unforgettable booklet of affection and rage, doubt and religion, depression and belief, and finally, of knowledge, of photographs.
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Extra resources for All Rivers Run to the Sea: Memoirs
Sylvia once said defensively, “Well, you know how to cope with it,” which puffed me up so much at the time I was embarrassed to ask what “it” was and so remained somewhat puzzled. I thought it was something more mysterious than technology. But now I see that the “it” was mainly, if not entirely, technology. But, that doesn’t sound right either. The “it” is a kind of force that gives rise to technology, something undefined, but inhuman, mechanical, lifeless, a blind monster, a death force. Something hideous they are running from but know they can never escape.
It will be on us soon now. I don’t see any towns ahead and we are just going to have to run for it. ” gesture. He nods and opens up. I let him get ahead a little, then pick up to his speed. The engine responds beautifully—seventy…eighty…eighty-five…we are really feeling the wind now and I drop my head to cut down the resistance…ninety. The speedometer needle swings back and forth but the tach reads a steady nine thousand…about ninety-five miles an hour…and we hold this speed…moving. Too fast to focus on the shoulder of the road now…I reach forward and flip the headlight switch just for safety.
I laugh. “I guess I’m going to have to take that back a little,” I say. ” John roars with laughter. “He’s got you,” he says. I think a little and say, “Well, Indians sometimes have a different way of looking at things, which I’m not saying is completely wrong. ” “Tom White Bear said his mother and dad told him not to believe all that stuff. ” He looks at me pleadingly. He really does want to know things sometimes. Being facetious is not being a very good father. ” Now John and Sylvia look at me peculiarly.