When Janina David was 28 years old, she sat down and wrote. Up until then, her life had had unimaginable depths and had taken her to the other end of the world; she had lived in Poland, the Warsaw Ghetto, Paris and Australia. Now she had arrived in the smog-gray London of the late 1950s, in a dreary one-room apartment and asked herself, as it says in the foreword to her autobiography: “How did I get here?” What she wrote became a central work of autobiographical literature about the Holocaust, “A Piece of Heaven”, the memoir of a survivor, the autobiography of someone who had made it and who now paused to look back.
Janina David is dead – culture
