Death

Paul Celan created poems that showcase the tension between impending death and possibly martyrdom both during and after the Holocaust. “Deathfugue” and “Aspen Tree” have contrasting images of dark and light, adding to the juxtaposed sense of hope and loss. Though the world continues on through his writing, the poems convey the sense that though the Holocaust may be over, its imprint of death and loss has tainted the world.

            Throughout “Deathfugue” there is a refrain, like the musical and dance prisoners were forced to perform. The speaker states “Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night/ we drink you at morning and midday we drink you at evening/ we drink and we drink” (Celan lns. 10-12). In the ongoing endurance there is a sense of martyrdom of the prisoners who are aware of their plight and still continue on, morning, noon and night. Rather than uprise, there is a compliance and docility but still an awareness of the situation that keeps the prisoners from being sheep. By enduring amidst the omnipresence of death but understanding how likely eventual demise is, the juncture of death and martyrdom is constantly present. With increasing risk the speaker continues the refrain, until “he shoots you with shot made of lead shoots you level and true” (Celan 29). Though this means death it is also release; instead of drinking in the black milk the speaker becomes ash and is free.

            A similar fate is found in “Aspen Tree,” but instead of black milk the speaker notes “Aspen tree, your leaves glance white in the dark./ My mother’s hair never turned white” (Celan 1-2). White is symbolic of peace and old age, such as in the wood of an ancient tree; the speaker’s mother is removed from such a fate. In each stanza, there is a natural element, be it “dandelion” or “rain cloud,” but the mother is consistently removed from the natural world, suggesting her death; the final confirmation is that “my gentle mother cannot return” (Celan 10). Constantly contrasted with the images of nature and vitality, the mother is connected with death. Though she was “gentle” and “fair,” this could not save her from death. While the poem is not graphic and possesses a simplicity that is child-like, this makes the death all the more unbearable. The Holocaust made numerous martyrs, but the status of martyrdom is not a comfort—it does not assuage the loss.

            Retrospectively, martyrdom is applied perhaps as a way to give meaning and dignity to an unnecessary death. For Celan, it does not mitigate the loss. While death offers a sort of peace, unjust death still grates. Sadly, amidst the horrors of the Holocaust, death was arguably kinder than enduring the concentration camps—such is the power of man to make life unbearable.