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Voyages of Samuel de Champlain, Vol. 2 by Samuel de Champlain

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Setting out from the mouth of this river, which is some four hundred to
five hundred paces broad, and very beautiful, running southward, [335] we
arrived at a place in latitude 45 deg., and twenty-two or twenty-three leagues
from the Trois Rivieres. All this river from its mouth to the first fall,
a distance of fifteen leagues, is very smooth, and bordered with woods,
like all the other places before named, and of the same forts. There are
nine or ten fine islands before reaching the fall of the Iroquois, which
are a league or a league and a half long, and covered with numerous oaks
and nut-trees. The river is nearly half a league wide in places, and very
abundant in fish. We found in no place less than four feet of water. The
approach to the fall is a kind of lake, [336] where the water descends, and
which is some three leagues in circuit. There are here some meadows, but
not inhabited by savages on account of the wars. There is very little water
at the fall, which runs with great rapidity. There are also many rocks and
stones, so that the savages cannot go up by water, although they go down
very easily. All this region is very level, covered with forests, vines,
and nut-trees. No Christians had been in this place before us; and we had
considerable difficulty in ascending the river with oars.

As soon as we had reached the fall, Des Marais, La Routte, and I, with five
men, went on shore to see whether we could pass this place; but we went
some league and a half without seeing any prospect of being able to do so,
finding only water running with great swiftness, and in all directions many
stones, very dangerous, and with but little water about them. The fall is
perhaps six hundred paces broad. Finding that it was impossible to cut a
way through the woods with the small number of men that I had, I
determined, after consultation with the rest, to change my original
resolution, formed on the assurance of the savages that the roads were
easy, but which we did not find to be the case, as I have stated. We
accordingly returned to our shallop, where I had left some men as guards,
and to indicate to the savages upon their arrival that we had gone to make
explorations along the fall.

After making what observations I wished in this place, we met, on
returning, some savages, who had come to reconnoitre, as we had done. They
told us that all their companions had arrived at our shallop, where we
found them greatly pleased, and delighted that we had gone in this manner
without a guide, aided only by the reports they had several times made to
us.

Having returned, and seeing the slight prospect there was of passing the
fall with our shallop, I was much troubled. And it gave me especial
dissatisfaction to go back without seeing a very large lake, filled with
handsome islands, and with large tracts of fine land bordering on the lake,
where their enemies live according to their representations. After duly
thinking over the matter, I determined to go and fulfil my promise, and
carry out my desire. Accordingly, I embarked with the savages in their
canoes, taking with me two men, who went cheerfully. After making known my
plan to Des Marais and others in the shallop, I requested the former to
return to our settlement with the rest of our company, giving them the
assurance that, in a short time, by God's' grace, I would return to them.

I proceeded forthwith to have a conference with the captains of the
savages, and gave them to understand that they had told me the opposite of
what my observations found to be the case at the fall; namely, that it was
impossible to pass it with the shallop, but that this would not prevent me
from assisting them as I had promised. This communication troubled them
greatly; and they desired to change their determination, but I urged them
not to do so, telling them that they ought to carry out their first plan,
and that I, with two others, would go to the war with them in their canoes,
in order to show them that, as for me, I would not break my word given to
them, although alone; but that I was unwilling then to oblige any one of my
companions to embark, and would only take with me those who had the
inclination to go, of whom I had found two.

They were greatly pleased at what I said to them, and at the determination
which I had taken, promising, as before, to show me fine things.


ENDNOTES:

328. The reader will observe that this must have been the 28th of June,
1609.

329. Read 1st of July.

330. Read 3d of July.

331. The river is now called St. Maurice; and the town at its mouth, Three
Rivers. Two islands at the mouth of the river divide it into three;
hence, it was originally called Trois Rivieres, or Three Rivers.

332. Laverdiere suggests that Champlain entered this lake, now for the
first time called St. Peter, in 1603, on St. Peter's day, the 29th
June, and probably so named it from that circumstance.

333. From the carrying-place they enter the Lake St. John, and from it
descend by the Saguenay to Tadoussac. In the preceding passage, Sacque
was plainly intended for Saguenay.

334. Of the three rivers flowing into Lake St. Peter, none retains the name
given to them by Champlain. His _St. Suzanne_ is the river du Loup;
his _Riviere du Pont_ is the river St. Francois; and his _De Gennes_
is now represented by the Yamaska. Compare Champlain's map of 1612
with Laurie's Chart of the river St. Lawrence.

335. This is an error: the River of the Iroquois, now commonly known as the
Richelieu, runs towards the north.

336. The Chambly Basin. On Charlevoix's Carte de la Riviere Richelieu, it
is called Bassin de St. Louis.




CHAPTER IX.

DEPARTURE FROM THE FALL OF THE IROQUOIS RIVER.--DESCRIPTION OF A LARGE
LAKE.--ENCOUNTER WITH THE ENEMY AT THIS LAKE; THEIR MANNER OF ATTACKING THE
IROQUOIS, AND THEIR BEHAVIOR IN BATTLE.


I set out accordingly from the fall of the Iroquois River [337] on the 2d
of July. [338] All the savages set to carrying their canoes, arms, and
baggage overland, some half a league, in order to pass by the violence and
strength of the fall, which was speedily accomplished. Then they put them
all in the water again, two men in each with the baggage; and they caused
one of the men of each canoe to go by land some three leagues, [339] the
extent of the fall, which is not, however, so violent here as at the mouth,
except in some places, where rocks obstruct the river, which is not broader
than three hundred or four hundred paces. After we had passed the fall,
which was attended with difficulty, all the savages, who had gone by land
over a good path and level country, although there are a great many trees,
re-embarked in their canoes. My men went also by land; but I went in a
canoe. The savages made a review of all their followers, finding that there
were twenty-four canoes, with sixty men. After the review was completed, we
continued our course to an island, [340] three leagues long, filled with
the finest pines I had ever seen. Here they went hunting, and captured
some wild animals. Proceeding about three leagues farther on, we made a
halt, in order to rest the coming night.

They all at once set to work, some to cut wood, and others to obtain the
bark of trees for covering their cabins, for the sake of sheltering
themselves, others to fell large trees for; constructing a barricade on the
river-bank around their cabins, which they do so quickly that in less than
two hours so much is accomplished that five hundred of their enemies would
find it very difficult to dislodge them without killing large numbers. They
make no barricade on the river-bank, where their canoes are drawn up, in
order that they may be able to embark, if occasion requires. After they
were established in their cabins, they despatched three canoes, with nine
good men, according to their custom in all their encampments, to
reconnoitre for a distance of two or three leagues, to see if they can
perceive any thing, after which they return. They rest the entire night,
depending upon the observation of these scouts, which is a very bad custom
among them; for they are sometimes while sleeping surprised by their
enemies, who slaughter them before they have time to get up and prepare for
defence. Noticing this, I remonstrated with them on the mistake they made,
and told them that they ought to keep watch, as they had seen us do every
night, and have men on the lookout, in order to listen and see whether they
perceived any thing, and that they should not live in such a manner like
beasts. They replied that they could not keep watch, and that they worked
enough in the day-time in the chase, since, when engaged in war, they
divide their troops into three parts: namely, a part for hunting scattered
in several places; another to constitute the main body of their army, which
is always under arms; and the third to act as _avant-coureurs_, to look out
along the rivers, and observe whether they can see any mark or signal
showing where their enemies or friends have passed. This they ascertain by
certain marks which the chiefs of different tribes make known to each
other; but, these not continuing always the same, they inform themselves
from time to time of changes, by which means they ascertain whether they
are enemies or friends who have passed. The hunters never hunt in advance
of the main body, or _avant-coureurs_, so as not to excite alarm or produce
disorder, but in the rear and in the direction from which they do not
anticipate their enemy. Thus they advance until they are within two or
three days' march of their enemies, when they proceed by night stealthily
and all in a body, except the _van-couriers_. By day, they withdraw into
the interior of the woods, where they rest, without straying off, neither
making any noise nor any fire, even for the sake of cooking, so as not to
be noticed in case their enemies should by accident pass by. They make no
fire, except in smoking, which amounts to almost nothing. They eat baked
Indian meal, which they soak in water, when it becomes a kind of porridge.
They provide themselves with such meal to meet their wants, when they are
near their enemies, or when retreating after a charge, in which case they
are not inclined to hunt, retreating immediately.

In all their encampments, they have their Pilotois, or Ostemoy, [341] a
class of persons who play the part of soothsayers, in whom these people
have faith. One of these builds a cabin, surrounds it with small pieces of
wood, and covers it with his robe: after it is built, he places himself
inside, so as not to be seen at all, when he seizes and shakes one of the
posts of his cabin, muttering some words between his teeth, by which he
says he invokes the devil, who appears to him in the form of a stone, and
tells him whether they will meet their enemies and kill many of them. This
Pilotois lies prostrate on the ground, motionless, only speaking with the
devil: on a sudden, he rises to his feet, talking, and tormenting himself
in such a manner that, although naked, he is all of a perspiration. All the
people surround the cabin, seated on their buttocks, like apes. They
frequently told me that the shaking of the cabin, which I saw, proceeded
from the devil, who made it move, and not the man inside, although I could
see the contrary; for, as I have stated above, it was the Pilotois who took
one of the supports of the cabin, and made it move in this manner. They
told me also that I should see fire come out from the top, which I did not
see at all. These rogues counterfeit also their voice, so that it is heavy
and clear, and speak in a language unknown to the other savages. And, when
they represent it as broken, the savages think that the devil is speaking,
and telling them what is to happen in their war, and what they must do.

But all these scapegraces, who play the soothsayer, out of a hundred words,
do not speak two that are true, and impose upon these poor people. There
are enough like them in the world, who take food from the mouths of the
people by their impostures, as these worthies do. I often remonstrated with
the people, telling them that all they did was sheer nonsense, and that
they ought not to put confidence in them.

Now, after ascertaining from their soothsayers what is to be their fortune,
the chiefs take sticks a foot long, and as many as there are soldiers. They
take others, somewhat larger, to indicate the chiefs. Then they go into the
wood, and seek out a level place, five or fix feet square, where the chief,
as sergeant-major, puts all the sticks in such order as seems to him best.
Then he calls all his companions, who come all armed; and he indicates to
them the rank and order they are to observe in battle with their enemies.
All the savages watch carefully this proceeding, observing attentively the
outline which their chief has made with the sticks. Then they go away, and
set to placing themselves in such order as the sticks were in, when they
mingle with each other, and return again to their proper order, which
manoeuvre they repeat two or three times, and at all their encampments,
without needing a sergeant to keep them in the proper order, which they are
able to keep accurately without any confusion. This is their rule in war.

We set out on the next day, continuing our course in the river as far as
the entrance of the lake. There are many pretty islands here, low, and
containing very fine woods and meadows, with abundance of fowl and such
animals of the chase as stags, fallow-deer, fawns, roe-bucks, bears, and
others, which go from the main land to these islands. We captured a large
number of these animals. There are also many beavers, not only in this
river, but also in numerous other little ones that flow into it. These
regions, although they are pleasant, are not inhabited by any savages, on
account of their wars; but they withdraw as far as possible from the rivers
into the interior, in order not to be suddenly surprised.

The next day we entered the lake, [342] which is of great extent, say
eighty or a hundred leagues long, where I saw four fine islands, ten,
twelve, and fifteen leagues long, which were formerly inhabited by the
savages, like the River of the Iroquois; but they have been abandoned since
the wars of the savages with one another prevail. There are also many
rivers falling into the lake, bordered by many fine trees of the same kinds
as those we have in France, with many vines finer than any I have seen in
any other place; also many chestnut-trees on the border of this lake, which
I had not seen before. There is also a great abundance of fish, of many
varieties: among others, one called by the savages of the country
_Chaousarou_ [343] which varies in length, the largest being, as the people
told me, eight or ten feet long. I saw some five feet long, which were as
large as my thigh; the head being as big as my two fists, with a snout two
feet and a half long, and a double row of very sharp and dangerous teeth.
Its body is, in shape, much like that of a pike; but it is armed with
scales so strong that a poniard could not pierce them. Its color is
silver-gray. The extremity of its snout is like that of a swine. This fish
makes war upon all others in the lakes and rivers. It also possesses
remarkable dexterity, as these people informed me, which is exhibited in
the following manner. When it wants to capture birds, it swims in among the
rushes, or reeds, which are found on the banks of the lake in several
places, where it puts its snout out of water and keeps perfectly still: so
that, when the birds come and light on its snout, supposing it to be only
the stump of a tree, it adroitly closes it, which it had kept ajar, and
pulls the birds by the feet down under water. The savages gave me the head
of one of them, of which they make great account, saying that, when they
have the headache, they bleed themselves with the teeth of this fish on the
spot where they suffer pain, when it suddenly passes away.

Continuing our course over this lake on the western side, I noticed, while
observing the country, some very high mountains on the eastern side, on the
top of which there was snow. [344] I made inquiry of the savages whether
these localities were inhabited, when they told me that the Iroquois dwelt
there, and that there were beautiful valleys in these places, with plains
productive in grain, such as I had eaten in this country, together with
many kinds of fruit without limit. [345] They said also that the lake
extended near mountains, some twenty-five leagues distant from us, as I
judge. I saw, on the south, other mountains, no less high than the first,
but without any snow. [346] The savages told me that these mountains were
thickly settled, and that it was there we were to find their enemies; but
that it was necessary to pass a fall in order to go there (which I
afterwards saw), when we should enter another lake, nine or ten leagues
long. After reaching the end of the lake, we should have to go, they said,
two leagues by land, and pass through a river flowing into the sea on the
Norumbegue coast, near that of Florida, [347] whither it took them only two
days to go by canoe, as I have since ascertained from some prisoners we
captured, who gave me minute information in regard to all they had personal
knowledge of, through some Algonquin interpreters, who understood the
Iroquois language.

Now, as we began to approach within two or three days' journey of the abode
of their enemies, we advanced only at night, resting during the day. But
they did not fail to practise constantly their accustomed superstitions, in
order to ascertain what was to be the result of their undertaking; and they
often asked me if I had had a dream, and seen their enemies, to which I
replied in the negative. Yet I did not cease to encourage them, and inspire
in them hope. When night came, we set out on the journey until the next
day, when we withdrew into the interior of the forest, and spent the rest
of the day there. About ten or eleven o'clock, after taking a little walk
about our encampment, I retired. While sleeping, I dreamed that I saw our
enemies, the Iroquois, drowning in the lake near a mountain, within sight.
When I expressed a wish to help them, our allies, the savages, told me we
must let them all die, and that they were of no importance. When I awoke,
they did not fail to ask me, as usual, if I had had a dream. I told them
that I had, in fact, had a dream. This, upon being related, gave them so
much confidence that they did not doubt any longer that good was to happen
to them.

When it was evening, we embarked in our canoes to continue our course; and,
as we advanced very quietly and without making any noise, we met on the
29th of the month the Iroquois, about ten o'clock at evening, at the
extremity of a cape which extends into the lake on the western bank. They
had come to fight. We both began to utter loud cries, all getting their
arms in readiness. We withdrew out on the water, and the Iroquois went on
shore, where they drew up all their canoes close to each other and began to
fell trees with poor axes, which they acquire in war sometimes, using also
others of stone. Thus they barricaded themselves very well.

Our forces also passed the entire night, their canoes being drawn up close
to each other, and fastened to poles, so that they might not get separated,
and that they might be all in readiness to fight, if occasion required. We
were out upon the water, within arrow range of their barricades. When they
were armed and in array, they despatched two canoes by themselves to the
enemy to inquire if they wished to fight, to which the latter replied that
they wanted nothing else; but they said that, at present, there was not
much light, and that it would be necessary to wait for daylight, so as to
be able to recognize each other; and that, as soon as the sun rose, they
would offer us battle. This was agreed to by our side. Meanwhile, the
entire night was spent in dancing and singing, on both sides, with endless
insults and other talk; as, how little courage we had, how feeble a
resistance we would make against their arms, and that, when day came, we
should realize it to our ruin. Ours also were not slow in retorting,
telling them they would see such execution of arms as never before,
together with an abundance of such talk as is not unusual in the siege of a
town. After this singing, dancing, and bandying words on both sides to the
fill, when day came, my companions and myself continued under cover, for
fear that the enemy would see us. We arranged our arms in the best manner
possible, being, however, separated, each in one of the canoes of the
savage Montagnais. After arming ourselves with light armor, we each took an
arquebuse, and went on shore. I saw the enemy go out of their barricade,
nearly two hundred in number, stout and rugged in appearance. They came at
a slow pace towards us, with a dignity and assurance which greatly amused
me, having three chiefs at their head. Our men also advanced in the same
order, telling me that those who had three large plumes were the chiefs,
and that they had only these three, and that they could be distinguished by
these plumes, which were much larger than those of their companions, and
that I should do what I could to kill them. I promised to do all in my
power, and said that I was very sorry they could not understand me, so that
I might give order and shape to their mode of attacking their enemies, and
then we should, without doubt, defeat them all; but that this could not now
be obviated, and that I should be very glad to show them my courage and
good-will when we should engage in the fight.

* * * * *

CHAMPLAIN'S EXPLANATION OP THE ACCOMPANYING MAP.

DEFEAT OF THE IROQUOIS AT LAKE CHAMPLAIN.

_A_. The fort of the Iroquois.
_B_. The enemy.
_C_. Canoes of the enemy, made of oak bark, each holding ten, fifteen, or
eighteen men.
_D_. Two chiefs who were killed.
_E_. One of the enemy wounded by a musket-shot of Sieur de Champlain.
_F_. Sieur de Champlain.
_G_. Two musketeers of Sieur de Champlain.
_H_. Montagnais, Ochastaiguins, and Algonquins.
_I_. Canoes of our allied savages made of birch bark.
_K_. The woods.

NOTES. The letters _A_, _F_, _G_, and _K_, are wanting but the objects to
which they point are easily recognized. The letter _H_ has been placed on
the canoes of the allies instead of the collected body of the allies
immediately above them.

* * * * *

As soon as we had landed, they began to run for some two hundred paces
towards their enemies, who stood firmly, not having as yet noticed my
companions, who went into the woods with some savages. Our men began to
call me with loud cries; and, in order to give me a passage-way, they
opened in two parts, and put me at their head, where I marched some twenty
paces in advance of the rest, until I was within about thirty paces of the
enemy, who at once noticed me, and, halting, gazed at me, as I did also at
them. When I saw them making a move to fire at us, I rested my musket
against my cheek, and aimed directly at one of the three chiefs. With the
same shot, two fell to the ground; and one of their men was so wounded that
he died some time after. I had loaded my musket with four balls. When our
side saw this shot so favorable for them, they began to raise such loud
cries that one could not have heard it thunder. Meanwhile, the arrows flew
on both sides. The Iroquois were greatly astonished that two men had been
so quickly killed, although they were equipped with armor woven from cotton
thread, and with wood which was proof against their arrows. This caused
great alarm among them. As I was loading again, one of my companions fired
a shot from the woods, which astonished them anew to such a degree that,
seeing their chiefs dead, they lost courage, and took to flight, abandoning
their camp and fort, and fleeing into the woods, whither I pursued them,
killing still more of them. Our savages also killed several of them, and
took ten or twelve prisoners. The remainder escaped with the wounded.
Fifteen or sixteen were wounded on our side with arrow-shots; but they were
soon healed.

After gaining the victory, our men amused themselves by taking a great
quantity of Indian corn and some meal from their enemies, also their armor,
which they had left behind that they might run better. After feasting
sumptuously, dancing and singing, we returned three hours after, with the
prisoners. The spot where this attack took place is in latitude 43 deg. and
some minutes, [348] and the lake was called Lake Champlain. [349]

ENDNOTES:

337. The River of the Iroquois, so called by Champlain, was long known by
that name, says Charlevoix, because these Indians generally descended
it, in order to make their inroads into the colony. Fort Richelieu, at
the mouth of the river, erected in 1641, was named after the
celebrated Cardinal, the river having already taken his name. This
fort having been demolished, another was built by M. de Sorel, a
French officer in command, which took his name, as likewise did the
river. A fort was built on the same river at the present village of
Chambly in 1664, and called Fort St. Louis. This wooden structure was
replaced by another of stone, erected prior to 1721, to which the name
of Chambly was given, as likewise by some writers to the river. The
river has likewise sometimes been called the St. Johns, but the
prevailing name is the Richelieu.

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Fidel and Che: a revolutionary friendship

After last week's fairly open theme, I thought I'd go with something a bit more structured this time. As I type this, I'm listening to Steeleye Span and thinking about the great ballad traditions of Britain and Ireland. What is a ballad? I suppose the most inclusive definition would be that it's a singable narrative poem: that covers a multitude but will do for the moment.

Ballads in English stretch back to the middle ages, with fine examples to be found among the Scottish border ballads and the English Robin Hood poems. These early ballads are among the best-known poems and stories in the language, and form part of the common heritage of English speakers everywhere. They gave rise to a tradition of ballad-making that endures down to the present day.

In fact, most poets since have tried their hand at the ballad at one time or another, and the result has been to deny any definition more specific than the one I ventured in my first paragraph. If you look around the internet, you'll come up with a wide selection of poems that are called ballads but have little in common formally. Stanza length varies from two to 10 or more lines, and all sorts of metrical and rhyming patterns are used. A good number will be singable in only the loosest possible sense, and at times the narrative tends to get lost in a mesh of more-or-less successful verbal embroidery.

So, what should a ballad be? Well, "proper" ballad stanzas are quatrains in which the first and third lines have four stresses and the second and third have three. The lines will rhyme A-B-C-B or A-B-A-B. It's as simple, and as difficult, as that. Here's an example, from Robert Burns's extremely singable Comin Thro' the Rye:

Gin a body meet a body
          Comin thro' the rye,
Gin a body kiss a body –
          Need a body cry.

Burns wrote a good number of ballads, and his lead was followed by many 19th-century poets. Two examples that I particularly like are Robert Browning's Confessions and Christina Rossetti's Up-Hill, but you can find ballads by just about any Romantic or Victorian poet if you look for them.

There is a long, strong tradition of ballads and ballad singers in Ireland, too. It is hardly surprising, then, that the great appropriator of tradition, WB Yeats, tried his hand at the form. At least four of his poems have the word "ballad" in the title; the pick of the bunch, for my money, is The Ballad of Father Gilligan, which may have benefited from having been written with a specific tune in mind.

Ballads continued to be written in the 20th century; perhaps the most unexpected exponents were Ezra Pound, with his Ballad of the Goodly Fere, and WH Auden. In fact, the ballad The Quarry is probably my favourite Auden poem.

And so, this week I invite a chorus of balladeering. You may choose to go the whole hog and write in ballad stanzas or you might prefer to take a more liberal view of the formal requirements. Either way, sing up and – as they say at all the best Irish sessions when calling for a bit of hush for the singer – one voice please.

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Obituary: Donald Westlake

The disputed Holocaust memoir, written by Herman Rosenblat, which was dropped from Penguin Group's publication schedule at the end of December is now set to appear as a work of fiction.

Rosenblat's memoir - which Oprah Winfrey called "the single greatest love story" she had heard in two decades in television - recounted how as a teenage boy in a Nazi concentration camp, he was kept alive by the food which was thrown to him by a young girl, Roma Radzicky. Penguin's US imprint Berkley Books had planned to publish the story, which sees Rosenblat reunited with Radzicky on a blind date years later, as Angel at the Fence: the True Story of a Love That Survived, next month.

But a Holocaust historian said it would have been impossible to approach the fence in the Schlieben concentration camp to throw food over it, concluding that this part of the story was made-up. Berkley initially defended the book, saying it was a work of memory, but then decided to cancel its planned publication, and demanded the return of the advance it had made to Rosenblat. A $25m film based on the book, to be called The Flower of the Fence, is still going ahead, with production due to start this year.

Publisher York House Press based in White Plains, New York, has entered into a tentative agreement with the film production company to publish a novel based on the film script early this spring. It said the book would be "grounded in fact", and would rise "to the proper levels of artistic value, ethical conduct and social responsibility".

A spokesperson for York House Press condemned the attacks which were made on the 80-year-old Rosenblat after the veracity of his story was questioned, describing them as a "savage" response to what was otherwise "a credible, heart-wrenching, and verifiable account" of his time in the concentration camp.

"No deliberate untruth is permissible, but beneath any fabrication is motivation and intent. We believe Mr. Rosenblat's motivations were very human, understandable and forgivable," the spokesperson said. "It is beyond our expertise to know how Holocaust survivors cope with their trauma. Do they deny, try to forget, rationalise or fantasise and promote fiction along with truth? Perhaps the coping mechanisms are as individual as the survivors themselves."

The president of the company producing the film, Harris Salomon from Atlantic Overseas Productions, said the book, "regardless of its shortcomings", would "challenge, educate and enlighten" readers about the horrors of the Holocaust. "The documented fact, acknowledged by his critics, is that Herman is a survivor of concentration camps," he said.

But Rosenblat's agent, Andrea Hurst, said that neither she nor Rosenblat were involved with this version of his story. "Usually book rights from films come out after the movie is released," she told guardian.co.uk. "I think the timing on this is very insensitive."

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