‘Tattooist of Auschwitz’ born out of chance meeting

TALI FEINBERG

The book is based on the true story of Ludwig “Lale” Eisenberg, who changed his surname to Sokolov after the war, and Gisela “Gita” Furman, who instantly fell in love when he tattooed her number on her arm. They kept their love alive in horrifying conditions, and managed to survive against the worst kind of odds. The novel also describes how Sokolov used his role to help others, even as he took on the horrendous task of tattooing his own people.

So, how did Heather Morris get to write the book that would change her life, bringing the true story of love in Auschwitz to millions of readers around the globe? “It was thanks to a cup of coffee and an offer to meet a complete stranger,” quipped the charismatic author to a captivated audience in Cape Town.

She was in South Africa to attend the prestigious Franschhoek Literary Festival, followed by this event hosted by the Jewish Literary Festival. Her journey to writing this story is almost as unbelievable as the book itself. To a packed audience she explained that she met a woman for coffee who said that her friend’s mother had just passed away, and he was looking for someone to write his father’s story.

His father was Lale (also known by the nickname Lali), who had never told his story in fear that he would be called a collaborator. But now that his wife, Gita, had passed away, he had decided to share it. Yet, he had a condition: the writer mustn’t be Jewish, as he didn’t want someone bringing their own family history or “baggage” to the telling of the tale.

Morris was taken to meet him, and the two made an instant connection. Later, Sokolov would say that Morris was the most significant person in his life since his wife died. But it still took time for Morris to earn his trust. She describes the moment as when she bonded with his dogs – he told her that if they liked her, then he knew he could trust her. And so she was “gifted with the story of a lifetime”.

Morris spent three years visiting Sokolov, where they simply spent time speaking about his story.

“I never took notes or recorded anything, and it was difficult to get the story in one go as he never really finished a sentence before jumping to the next idea!” But somehow through these endless conversations, Morris was able to piece the story together. Her training as a social worker came into play as it taught her to listen, and that’s exactly what she did.

Morris would never leave her discussion with Sokolov before changing the subject to a lighter topic, like sport, family, or women (he admitted that he had been a “playboy” before the war, and he loved the fairer sex). This way, she knew that he would not dwell on the trauma of his past after she left. At the same time as Sokolov “unloaded” the story onto Morris, she found that the tragedy and trauma was affecting her, and she would take some quiet time in her car to process it before heading home to her own family.

Although Morris did not have access to Gita, she did have access to a friend who had been with her in the camps and is described in the book – Dana (whose real name is Lottie). Along with other female survivors in Australia (where both Morris and Sokolov live), she “coloured” the story for Morris, giving her insight onto the character, life, and story of Gita.

In addition, both Sokolovs had recorded testimony for the Shoah Foundation. Gita had always been reluctant to do so, but eventually she did it as long as her husband wasn’t in the room while she testified, and never watched the video – a promise he kept even after she died. “But I watched it,” said Morris with a smile, which was a great help in writing the book.

The author had done screenplay courses, and hoped to turn the story into a screenplay. After a few years of struggling to do so, she locked herself away for six weeks and wrote the book. However, the style of a screenplay remains in the text, and audience members pointed out that at times it is a little stilted and unemotional. Other criticisms of the book are that it is unrealistic in describing life at the camp, and is factually incorrect in some places.

To this, Morris said she was writing Sokolov’s story as he told it to her.

Morris visited Auschwitz only last year on the March of the Living. She said Sokolov told her he wanted to go back there, and stand on a step near Crematoria Three, “to say sorry to everyone he didn’t save”.

So, while there, Morris did exactly that, and also said a prayer for his parents, who were probably murdered in Auschwitz. Sokolov never knew their fate, and also never found out the fate of the two men he worked with in Auschwitz: Pepan and Leon. Morris said her researchers could not find out what happened to them.

While in Auschwitz on the march, a rabbi told her group that a survivor had once told him that she didn’t remember the pain of getting her tattoo. “She just remembered the face of the man who tattooed her, who kept saying ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry’ as he did his work. And he had no idea who I was as he told this story.”

Another time, the daughter of a survivor told Morris how her father had been saved by Sokolov when he tattooed the number of an older inmate onto a younger inmate. The older one had chosen to swap places with the younger one who was going to be sent to the gas chamber. That man survived and settled in England, where he always told his family how was saved by “the tattooist and a man whose name I did not know”.

Where to next for Morris? She has just finished writing the story of Cilka, who features in the book, and who Sokolov described as “the bravest person I ever knew”.

She says Sokolov would never have wanted to be described as a hero, and “I think he would have struggled to comprehend how big it has become,” as he never lived to see the book’s success. “But at the end of the day, it is a simple story. Indeed, all the best stories are.”