The Difficulty of Speaking the Unspeakable: How an Article Entitled "The Nazi Past in Psychotherapy" Was Never Written
I want to write the eulogy for my mother. I think about her life. The central kernel, and pole of her being, determinative for the rest of her life, as the daughter of a Jewish father, was the period 1933 to
1939. In 1938, when she was 17, immigration to South America. From the eulogy: "Then came the great tragedy of her life-and I know of no one who has succeeded in working it through-namely the Nazi time. For my mother and my family it meant fear, persecution, degradation to the status of third-class human beings, humiliation, uprooting, the loss of all rights, going away to a totally unknown country which they did not choose, and finally, the murder of family members. Christa Wolf (1979) once wrote, 'Exile, that means one is saved, yet connected to nothing."'