Remembering Hana
Good that we made the trek to Springfield College last night for another of the PVJFF movies (one more to go; tonight!): Inside Hana’s Suitcase. I was glad that we had gone even before the movie began. We were sitting off on the side, near the young man who was running the equipment. Damn. I can’t remember his name now. I know it is one syllable, like Cliff, but not Cliff. Tip of tongue! Tip of tongue! Anyway, this chance encounter was a treat. He told us about his somewhat circuitous path through college but it was when he spoke of playing music, specifically, playing the mandolin, that he simply lit up. This led to a discussion of different kinds of music and had he ever heard Klezmer? No? Well, I got him to note the dates and locations of several Klezmer concerts on the horizon. He was psyched! It was a sweet connection for the evening, and just maybe, a new musical direction for him!
Inside Hana’s Suitcase offered an unusual way to remember the Holocaust. It was filled with magical story-telling, set off by the receiving of one battered suitcase by a Japanese teacher. Have you ever seen the movie, Paperclips? In that, as in this, you have a homogeneous society (Paperclips was southern white kids and in Hana’s Suitcase, the Japanese children lived in a world where everyone was like them, not the melting pot of NYC, say) In both cases, one educator takes it upon herself to open the kids’ eyes to people different from them. Both times, it focuses on Jews and the Holocaust, and exposes them to an astounding new understanding of themselves and the world. I can’t state this strongly enough. I get goosebumps recalling the compassion and understanding that comes out of these kids, and the adults, too.
Inside Hana’s Suitcase is something of a mystery adventure tale. The suitcase, with the name Hana Brady, her birthday, and “orphan” (in German) painted on it, was received from archives at Auschwitz. The Japanese teacher took it upon herself to explore the history of this suitcase. It led her, ultimately, to finding that Hana’s brother, George, is living in Toronto, and making contact with him. I imagine that George, like many Holocaust survivors, didn’t speak much about his experiences to his now large beautiful family.”Why burden them?” he might have thought. A packet arrived from Japan, not only with photographs of Hana’s suitcase, but reproductions of drawings that Hana had done while in the camps (found via the Internet), and warm and welcoming letters from the children who wanted to know about Hana. This seemed to have opened a floodgate in George. Sure, filled with overwhelming pain, but he learned that Hana still existed. Not in the flesh but in memories, in children who wanted to know about her, hear her story, even to meet George. I am starting to cry just typing this. I went through a lot of tissues last night.
The movie is told through photos, actors’ re-creations, through meeting George and his daughter, but mostly, the story is offered by the children who have come to know Hana. The children are Japanese, Czech, and Canadian. These diverse groups of children all know her story, inside and out, and they piggy-back retelling everything they know about Hana, from before the war when she lived in a happy and prosperous family, to her death, and beyond. The pairing of two Canadian girls were particularly funny in how they finished each other’s sentences.
Hana is not forgotten. I have put in a request through my local library to get a copy of the book, Hana’s Suitcase, by Karen Levine. It has circulated the world through translation into many languages. The kids in the movie say that they learned that people are all the same, and from George, that you can’t give up. The kids remember. They retell the story. Like Anne Frank, Hana lives on. Excuse my tearing up again. I need a tissue.
beautifully written, katie! thank you for this response and review and for your appreciation of the PVJFF films we bring to the area.
What a wonderfully written summary and analysis of “Inside Hana’s Suitcase”. There is something very pure about your writing Katie that makes your response so much more meaningful than so many of the “professional” reviewers that are out there. Your writing is straight from the heart which is the most valid approach to a film like this and also to its message. That it has touched you so is very powerful. At least that was what all the people involved in making the film had hoped for.
Larry,
Your response, obviously, means a lot to me. While I watch a lot of films, all different kinds, what I most appreciate is a film that touches my heart. That is the kind that you can’t ever forget. Not the movie, nor the story. Thank you.
Having just toured the Holocaust Museum in Washington, I am going to go find the book or movie. Thanks for the information/insight.
Fumiko,
How lovely to hear from you! I am glad to have the opportunity to thank you directly. Without your curiosity and efforts, Hana’s story never would have come to light. So many have benefited. Including me. In Yiddish, it is called a “mitvah,” a good deed. Thanks to you and all the children.
I am getting the book soon from my library, by the way.
There goes Katie, building communities where-ever she goes! :) Attagirl.
Adding to the richness of remembering Hana, I just read the book. I liked having more of the puzzle pieces fall into place, and all the photographs. Gratitude to Karen Levine for creating the book that has gone round the world. I don’t know names of my family members who perished in the Holocaust, but with my Jewish eastern European background, it is inevitable that relatives, perhaps distant ones, were murdered in the camps. I feel like keeping the memory of this vivacious young girl alive celebrates the lives of so many whose lives were cut short. I say the “lives” more than the “deaths,” as in “honoring the dead.” I think this is an important distinction. This, like the PVJFF movie, Stumbling Stone, is more about remembering the happy normal lives that came before the horrors. Celebrating life.
Well, Alison, happy belated birthday! My family came over in the late 1800’s but I think we all have to assume that we had distant relatives you died in the Holocaust. How could it be otherwise? We are all connected.
I know the library system has the book, Remembering Hana, by Karen Levine. Watch for the movie sometime this year, hopefully at Amherst Cinema.
Lovely to meet you!