A Light in the Darkness: Janusz Korczak, His Orphans, and the Holocaust

by Albert Marrin Narrated by Stefan Rudnicki

Overview

From National Book Award Finalist Albert Marrin comes the moving story of Janusz Korczak, the heroic Polish Jewish doctor who devoted his life to children, perishing with them in the Holocaust.

Janusz Korczak was more than a good doctor. He was a hero. The Dr. Spock of his day, he established orphanages run on his principle of honoring children and shared his ideas with the public in books and on the radio. He famously said that "children are not the people of tomorrow, but people today." Korczak was a man ahead of his time, whose work ultimately became the basis for the U.N. Declaration of the Rights of the Child.

Korczak was also a Polish Jew on the eve of World War II. He turned down multiple opportunities for escape, standing by the children in his orphanage as they became confined to the Warsaw Ghetto. Dressing them in their Sabbath finest, he led their march to the trains and ultimately perished with his children in Treblinka.

But this book is much more than a biography. In it, renowned nonfiction master Albert Marrin examines not just Janusz Korczak's life but his ideology of children: that children are valuable in and of themselves, as individuals. He contrasts this with Adolf Hitler's life and*his*ideology of children: that children are nothing more than tools of the state.

And throughout, Marrin draws readers into the Warsaw Ghetto. What it was like. How it was run. How Jews within and Poles without responded. Who worked to save lives and who tried to enrich themselves on other people's suffering. And how one man came to represent the conscience and the soul of humanity.

This is an unforgettable portrait of a man whose compassion in even the darkest hours reminds us what is possible.

Editorial Reviews

OCTOBER 2019 - AudioFile

Stefan Rudnicki’s narration is engaging and conversational, an approach needed for this complex account of the life of Janusz Korczak. The noted Polish-Jewish pediatrician became the protector of orphans in the Warsaw Ghetto of WWII. He was so devoted that he comforted his children into Treblinka’s gas chambers rather than escape the Nazis himself. The audiobook places Korczak’s life in its historical context, and Rudnicki moves smoothly as the story ranges from Korczak’s loving views on childhood to Hitler’s beliefs about and practices of racial superiority and extermination. Rudnicki approaches the author’s absorbing material with a combination of reserve that carries listeners through difficult descriptions and emotionalism that illuminates the story’s focus on courage and the powerful theme of good versus evil. S.W. © AudioFile 2019, Portland, Maine

Publishers Weekly

07/15/2019

Janusz Korczak, a Polish-Jewish pediatrician and writer, established a home for orphans in 1912 and cared for Jewish children throughout both world wars. Much more than a biography, Marrin’s introduction to this heroic figure offers an exhaustive study of WWII in Poland and Germany. In straightforward, descriptive language, Marrin (Uprooted: The Japanese American Experience During World War II) explores a vast array of subjects linked to the war, including the history of Palestine and of Judaism in Poland, and he devotes a significant number of pages to a biographical portrait of Adolf Hitler and the growth of Nazism. The narrative, accompanied by black-and-white photos, conveys the horrors of wartime with gruesome details, such as Nazis throwing infants into the air for target practice, and includes tangential subjects, such as sterilization laws in America. Korczak is depicted as a passionate humanitarian with an extraordinary respect and love for children, and as one whose activism was the seed of the human rights movement—in particular, the rights of children. He is often absent from the book, though, as Marrin discusses, in great detail, other topics connected to WWII. Still, there is much to learn and contemplate in this dense yet accessible examination. Ages 12–up. (Sept.)

From the Publisher

YALSA Excellence In Nonfiction Award Winner 

“Painful yet profound.” –Booklist, Starred Review

“It’s a harrowing book, complete with harrowing photographs, that’s insightful about connections to other historical events without losing sight of its main topic; its emphasis on youth experience, both in Korczak’s orphanage and elsewhere, adds a dimension often undertreated in other explorations of the topic.” —Bulletin

School Library Journal

10/18/2019

Gr 7 Up-Readers of Marrin's new biography will learn that the only memorial stone in the cemetery of the razed Treblinka extermination camp is that of Janusz Korczak (the pen name of Henryk Goldszmit). The outline of his life is sketchy, as most documents have been lost. Korczak was a pediatrician who served Poland in three wars and volunteered for World War II. Nicknamed the Old Doctor, he is primarily known for his work caring for orphans in the Warsaw ghetto. He believed that children should be treated with respect and as individuals, rather than as objects to be molded by adults. Korczak protected the orphans through the Holocaust, turning down several opportunities to escape. On August 5, 1942, a Nazi patrol rounded up everyone in the Dom Sierot orphanage and marched them to trains headed to Treblinka. None survived. In a larger sense, this volume is about Hitler, his racist agenda, and his attitude toward children (and humanity in general), which stands in sharp contrast to the philosophy of Korczak. Marrin describes the horrors of the Holocaust in graphic detail. Often disturbing black-and-white photos enhance the text. Extensive notes for each chapter, accompanied by a comprehensive bibliography and an excellent index, make this book a good research source. VERDICT This fascinating work will terrify and educate readers about the dangers of autocracy and racism. Highly recommended for all young adult collections.-Katherine Koenig, Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh

OCTOBER 2019 - AudioFile

Stefan Rudnicki’s narration is engaging and conversational, an approach needed for this complex account of the life of Janusz Korczak. The noted Polish-Jewish pediatrician became the protector of orphans in the Warsaw Ghetto of WWII. He was so devoted that he comforted his children into Treblinka’s gas chambers rather than escape the Nazis himself. The audiobook places Korczak’s life in its historical context, and Rudnicki moves smoothly as the story ranges from Korczak’s loving views on childhood to Hitler’s beliefs about and practices of racial superiority and extermination. Rudnicki approaches the author’s absorbing material with a combination of reserve that carries listeners through difficult descriptions and emotionalism that illuminates the story’s focus on courage and the powerful theme of good versus evil. S.W. © AudioFile 2019, Portland, Maine

Kirkus Reviews

2019-06-23
Janusz Korczak's dedication to orphaned children during World War II serves as a reminder of the good one person can do in a world gone dark.

Henryk Goldszmit, known by his pen name, Janusz Korczak, was a quiet, unassuming doctor, veteran, respected author, director of a children's home—and a Jew in Poland at a time when Nazi ideology was on the rise in neighboring Germany. Considered a pioneer in child psychology, Korczak and his chief assistant, Stefania Wilczyńska, operated Dom Sierot, a home for orphans in Warsaw, guided by the philosophy that children were worthy of respect as whole beings, not just future adults, and deserving of autonomy and self-determination. Unfortunately, the nurturing environment of Dom Sierot was no match for the Nazi war machine and Korczak, Wilczyńska, and their beloved children died in the gas chambers of Treblinka in 1942. Marrin (Very, Very, Very Dreadful, 2017, etc.) uses Korczak's life to explore 20th-century Germany's path to extremism and brutality. Going beyond simple biography, the book focuses on eugenics and the Nazi's molding of youth, the roots of anti-Semitism and racism, and their modern legacies. The readable tone makes the long text accessible and engaging. Disappointingly, more attention is paid to Wilczyńska's perceived lack of beauty than to her intellectual accomplishments as a rare woman able at that time to complete a science degree.

Meticulous research supports a Holocaust book worthy of attention. (notes, selected sources, index) (Nonfiction. 14-adult)

Product Details

BN ID:	2940169212891
Publisher:	Penguin Random House
Publication date:	09/10/2019
Edition description:	Unabridged
Age Range:	10 - 13 Years

Read an Excerpt

I exist not to be loved and admired, but to love and act. It is not the duty of those around me to love me. Rather, it is my duty to be concerned about the world, about man.
 
 
—Janusz Korczak, The Ghetto Years (1942)
 
 
Starting Out
 
 
We have little information about Henryk Goldszmit’s life story. Except for his diary, written in the three months before his death, all his personal papers were lost or destroyed during World War II. Much of what we know was recorded by friends and acquaintances, recalling what he had told them, or appears in his letters to them.
 
Even the exact date of his birth is uncertain. This we do know: The future champion of children’s rights was born in Warsaw in July 1878 or 1879—probably 1878. The uncertainty is due to his father’s failure to register his son’s birth, as required by law, for several years. At the time of Henryk’s birth, Poland was not an independent nation. In 1795, aggressive neighbors had banded together to overrun the country. Russia, Austria, and the German state of Prussia divided Poland among themselves. Russia took the lion’s share and declared Warsaw the capital of “Russian Poland.” By falsifying his birthday, Henryk’s father may have hoped to postpone, or even avoid, his son’s being drafted into the army of the Russian czar. Other parents scrimped and saved to send their draft-age sons to America.1
 
Of Henryk’s ancestors, we know nothing. His father, Jozef Goldszmit, was an attorney specializing in divorce cases. Jozef’s own father, Hirsh Goldszmit, was a beloved country doctor who spoke German fluently and gave his five children Christian-sounding names like Maria and Magdalena. Jozef’s wife, Cecylia Gebicka, had an artisan background; her grandfather was a glazier, a person who puts glass in windows and mirrors. The couple had two children: Henryk and his younger sister, Anna. Anna’s life and fate are a mystery to us.
 
Though not fabulously wealthy, the Goldszmit family was quite comfortable. Thanks to Jozef’s lucrative law practice, they lived in an elegantly furnished apartment in an upscale neighborhood. Servants earned low wages, so the family could easily afford a full-time cook and maid. A French governess saw to the children’s education in a room set aside as a study, outfitted with bookcases, blackboards, and desks.
 
Young Henryk had no friends his own age and played alone with blocks and his sister’s dolls. His snobbish mother thought other children, most of all poor children, were not good enough for her precious darling. Poor children, she insisted, were dirty and smelly, cursed, and fought like alley cats. Henryk’s refuge from boredom was the kitchen, the domain of a wise peasant woman from the countryside. She would sit him on a high stool as if he were “a human being and not a lapdog on a silk cushion.” For hours, she told Polish folktales about dark forests inhabited by magicians and wizards, goblins and heroes. Her stories stirred the child’s imagination, inspiring the master storyteller who’d endear himself to generations of children.2
 
Henryk’s parents thought their son was too childish, too unfocused. His mother complained, “This boy has no ambition.” He remembered how “my dad called me a gawk and a clod and, when he flew into a rage, even an idiot and an ass. . . . All I ever heard was—lazy, crybaby, idiot . . . and good-for-nothing.”3
 
When Henryk turned seven, he attended a Russian elementary school. This grim place operated on the belief that the human mind was a muscle that would grow flabby if not toughened by exercise. Exercise, or “mental gymnastics,” consisted of memorization and repetition, accepting approved “truths” without questioning. When called upon, pupils were expected to recite the correct answer word for word, like robots.
 
Believing children were “untamed,” teachers used strict discipline. Students had to sit still in class, at rigid attention, for long periods. “Why should they move their heads sideways,” Henryk recalled a teacher asking, “when I am in front of them?” Rule breaking brought humiliating punishment. Years later, he cringed when remembering how a classmate was beaten for a harmless prank. A janitor spread out the offender on a desk while the teacher stood over him and hit him with a switch, a slender stick used as a whip. “I was terrified. It seemed to me that when they finished with him, I would be next. I was ashamed, too, because they beat him on his bare bottom. They unbuttoned everything—in front of the whole class.” The lesson: Adults did not respect children. Children were seen as tiny wheels in the great machine that was the adult world. They existed, Henryk decided, to live up to their elders’ expectations and demands, not to be themselves in the here and now.4
 
The Goldszmit family’s fortunes changed in the early 1890s. Normally a serious, self-controlled man, Jozef began to act oddly. He would remain silent for hours, his eyes cast down, his face tense, and would then burst out incoherently. One day, in the courtroom, he stopped questioning a witness in mid-sentence. Arms flailing, he shouted: “They’re here, they’ve come after me; go away. That’s not my witness in the box, it’s the devil come to mock me. Send him away, away.” Doctors diagnosed a mental breakdown.5
 
 
 
 
 
 
I: The Old Doctor
 
1.   Betty Jean Lifton, The King of Children: A Biography of Janusz Korczak (New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 1988), 13.
 
2.   Ibid., 15.
 
3.   Marek Jaworski, Janusz Korczak, trans. Karol Jakubowicz (Warsaw: Interpress, 1978); 18; Janusz Korczak, The Ghetto Years: 1939–1942, ed. Yitzhak Perlis (Tel Aviv: Ghetto Fighters’ House & Hakibbutz Hameuchad Publishing House, 1980), 110.
 
4.   George Z. F. Bereday, “Janusz Korczak: In Memory of the Hero of Polish Children’s Literature,” The Polish Review 24, no. 1 (1979), 29; Lifton, The King of Children, 25.
 
5.   Mark Bernheim, Father of the Orphans: The Story of Janusz Korczak (New York: Dutton, 1989), 18–19.
 

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