The author has managed to interwoven a commentary on Germany’s struggle, as well as all that of all humans with a very personal story seamlessly. It’s well-worth reading and contemplating.
The Tower of the Void
When you walk into the Tower of the Void inside the Jewish Museum of Berlin, what strikes you immediately is the ominous silence of it all. An empty tower that reaches 20, 30 meters into the air and lets in only a sliver of sunlight from its few sunroofs, the darkness of not only the concrete walls but also the spots that are not illuminated by the sunlight envelop and swallow up the visitors of the tower. A walkway connects the entrance to a dead end on the other side, also consumed by the darkness, but once the silence settles in, your focus turns to the walkway. This walkway is littered with ironwork faces, ranging from the size of a palm to a forty-five pound disk one would see at the gym, but all carrying a wrenching, screaming expression. The idiosyncratic rusting and banged-up…
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