fwe adopt the viewpoint of the book's author and series creators and assume this is what truly transpired, we face the perplexing question: why did more than a million people die in KL Auschwitz? Was it because they lacked love or were not loved enough or genuinely enough?
Humans want to believe in a just world where goodness, beauty and love prevail because it makes us feel safe. As viewers (readers) of Lali's story, we want him and Gita to survive and for them to be happy. Reflecting on the individuals who were killed in the context of this narrative prompts one to question the reasons behind their failure to survive. On the contrary, we believe that genuine, untainted love can rescue us from all evil, and the series perpetuates this pop culture myth.
So, did Lali and Gita survive because they loved each other? Undoubtedly, affection could have acted as a wellspring, fuelling the determination to fight and offering the necessary motivation, hope, and mental fortitude. However, was it sufficient to endure nearly three years in an extermination camp? Most certainly, no. Halina Birenbaum's memoirs, chronicling her experiences in the Warsaw Ghetto, the Majdanek camp, Auschwitz, and subsequent camps in Germany, dispel any romanticised myth of camp reality:
In the battle to preserve this fading existence, my sole weapon was my deep love for Hela. Unfortunately, under the conditions of Auschwitz, no level of emotion could spare a person from a slow and agonising death by starvation. (H. Birenbaum: Hope is the last to die, 2006: 124–125).
Lali and Gita managed to survive not because they developed romantic feelings for each other but primarily due to their fortunate circumstances. Shortly after arriving, they were assigned to work in the more favourable kommandos, where they became part of the privileged group known as the camp VIPs. They both performed relatively light work under a roof rather than the debilitating physical work outdoors. As previously mentioned, the prisoners' daily camp conditions were comparatively better than those of most other inmates. While employed at the renowned Canada barracks, which was widely regarded as
the most coveted workplace in the camp, Gita enjoyed access to a diverse range of vital survival provisions. Naturally, she could not lawfully utilise them due to legal constraints and the prohibition on smuggling. Nonetheless, according to survivor accounts, the Canada barracks were one of the primary sources of various life-saving articles for the Auschwitz prisoners. By virtue of his position, Lali also had far more opportunities than the average prisoner.
The prominent camp inmates stood out from the rest of the prisoners due to their distinguished appearance, characterised by cleanliness and better physical condition. Unlike the rest of the inmates, they did not face imminent starvation. Lali is told by Pepan that a good job increases the chances of survival when he offers him a job as a tattooist, but the reality observed on screen does not confirm his words. All the more so as Pepan himself soon dies, and the circumstances of his death are not explained in the series.
The fact that work differentiated the chances of survival and determined the prisoner's place in the reality of the camp is not reflected in the series. The portrayal of the prison community in the series is homogeneous - everyone appears equally unclean and famished. Furthermore, most of the prisoners in the women's and men's camps are almost exclusively Jews of diverse nationalities. It's puzzling how the series overlooks the cultural and linguistic contrasts between the characters since Lali, in particular, appears to converse effortlessly with virtually everyone. This all indicates that the prison community is predominantly uniform in every aspect. Given the uniformity of the situation, it becomes challenging for the audience to comprehend why certain prisoners perish in the camp within a brief period. In contrast, the protagonist manages to endure for nearly three years. Love is a compelling, albeit cliché, answer in this case. The oversimplified portrayal makes it difficult to truly understand the firsthand experience of a prisoner at KL Auschwitz.
In brief, the serialised image is an attempt to balance two conflicting objectives - maintaining factual accuracy and realism while staying closely aligned with the content and message of Heather Morris' book. From the perspective of history researchers and educators, the compromise is deemed unsuccessful as it compromises the non-negotiable value of authenticity by making it subject to negotiation. In summary, it is imperative to acknowledge the authors' efforts in constructing a more credible representation than that portrayed in The Tattooist of Auschwitz and to appreciate the remarkably successful elaboration of the post-camp plot. Nevertheless, despite these efforts, the series unmistakably leans more towards Heather Morris' viewpoint than prioritising the faithful recreation of Auschwitz's historical realities.