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More than just Holocaust, Maus addresses fathers, sons

Batman, Superman, and Spider-Man’s parents are all dead. The superheroes live and fight in the memory of their fallen family members. Luke Skywalker grew up without a father, and upon finally meeting the man, he had to fight him to the death in order to save the galaxy. Mythological heroes, more often than not, have fathers who are literal gods, and the heroes must live constantly in the shadows of their superior parents. Whether it is movies, books, television, or mythology, it is a fact that “daddy issues” are among the most common traits of characters across all forms of fiction.

In some stories, this trope exists to allow the main character room to grow, as life without parents forces a young character to grow up quickly and take on a greater burden than would otherwise be expected of him. But the absent parent trope also exists as a reflection of societal realities: many children do grow up without one or more of their parents, but those who are lucky enough to have parents around also often find themselves at odds with those who raised them. Parents, reasonably, have expectations for their children and may assume their offspring will grow up a certain way. In turn, children often grow up seeing their parents as heroes, only to become disillusioned upon discovering their flawed humanity. And for many, even a father who is physically present is often emotionally distant. The absent father in fiction often hits too close to home.

So what happens when a boy aims to discover the true personalities of his parents? Will he be disappointed at their human failings, or proud of their surprising accomplishments? Is the generation gap bridgeable, or does the difference in time make it impossible for us to truly understand the world of our parents?

Maus is the story of Art Spiegelman’s attempt to understand his parents, specifically his father. Spiegelman’s work is a journey to discover the man who always felt distant and the mother who left him long ago.

Maus follows Spiegelman as he tries to learn about his father’s struggle during World War II. Vladek Spiegelman was a Polish Jew who survived the Holocaust through resourcefulness and intelligence, even using his skills and likability to make it out of Auschwitz alive. In the graphic novel dramatization of his father’s struggle, Art Spiegelman uses animals to create an extended metaphor, casting the Jews as mice and the Nazis as cats, with other nationalities filling out the animal kingdom.

Instead of simply telling his father’s story, Spiegelman tells about the journey to get the story out of his father — making himself a character in the book, whose own goal is the completion of the book in which he is a part. It sounds confusing, but is actually an impressive storytelling device that makes the book more than just a journey of a man but the story of a man and his son.

The fictionalized Art wants to write a book about his father’s story but often finds himself at odds with the man who raised him. To Art, Vladek is insufferable for his numerous traits that likely developed during his time in Nazi Europe. Vladek is cheap, lies to get his son’s attention, and complains frequently, causing Art to voice his frustration with these traits by noting that his father is acting like the terrible stereotype of Jews prevalent in antisemitic thought. Vladek is not a distant father to Art, but overbearing, and someone to whom is son is unable to relate. But throughout the book, even while the character of Art doesn’t appear to be gaining any new insight into his father, the matter-of-fact writing about their interactions seems to indicate the real-life Art’s greater understanding of his father’s nature. Perhaps writing the book truly helped Art to discover Vladek, even though he was unaware of it at the time.

Chapters often begin with Art and Vladek speaking to one another, with Art growing frustrated as he tries to push his father toward talking about his life in World War II. Art learns about his long-dead brother and mother through his father’s narration, and Spiegelman transposes his words in a way that makes the reader feel as though Vladek is speaking directly to them.

The narrative device used to set up the scenes of Nazi-occupied Poland allows the reader to better understand the humanity of the man who survived Auschwitz. We have all had a parent or grandparent whose quirks and pushiness have gotten on our nerves. Showing this frustrating side of Vladek allows us to relate while we also learn about his heroic triumphs. Vladek survived the concentration camps by using his skills as a worker and his knowledge of the English language. He also flashed his business savvy, often making valuable trades for the necessities of his survival. He even managed to keep his wife protected when they were separated by making friends with the right people. These survival traits also earn Vladek the grudging admiration of his son.

Art experiences a great deal of survivor’s guilt, knowing that he will never have to suffer the way his father did. He takes for granted all that he has been given and, during the time he interviews Vladek, is unable to relate to his father’s story. Art knows that he can never understand his father’s struggle but hopes to at least be able to retell it to others.

There is no point in the story where Art and Vladek reconcile their differences, but the writing makes it clear that Art did ultimately love and respect his father, especially after hearing about his struggle. It appears as though Spiegelman’s realization of who his father was only came about after he began writing Maus. While the story ultimately exists to discuss the horrors of the Holocaust, Maus also does a great job tackling a common issue that is rarely discussed in a real way. Hopefully, those who read the tale will be able to learn its lessons and work harder to understand the trials and quirks of different generations.