Questions answered

Why did I call the book Rachel Sarai’s Vineyard?
As far as that title is concerned the answer is simple: I love the names Rachel and Sarai, and if ever more than one miracle had happened to me – I love you, my Daughter – and I would have had a second daughter, her name would have been Rachel Sarai.
The Vineyard … for me a vineyard is synonymous with roots and roots is what Rachel Sarai's Vineyard is all about, too.
When did I start writing the book?
I think a long time ago, in my head/soul/gut, at the time my war trauma showed its 'glamourous' face, or rather jumped me from the back. The actual sitting down and writing began sometime in 1996, when I came back from my one before last visit to the Netherlands and the person I called Mother. It was the last time I saw the woman alive and I only came back to bury her; no, to cremate her.
I started it as a theatre play and even today would love to see it performed on stage (I still have it all in my head). Then, it became a third POV novel. Looking at that first draft now, I see how I wasn't ready, how I still sugarcoated certain things and did not yet include others, especially the really ugly ones.
I rewrote RSV some ?? times if not more and I kept adding events, feelings, anger, loneliness, loss…
Heck, wish I would have been able to rewrite my life like that!
Then – and please don't ask me why – I suddenly decided the adult Rachel Sarai should not cowardly hide, and I changed it back to first POV, except for the parts concerning young Rachel.
I am still not able to project myself into young Rachel, that little girl died inside the grown woman. I don't feel her and yet, I'd love to hug her and tell her… What the hell could I tell that little girl?
Tell me, what could I tell her to make her feel better?

What Would I Do?

Something I have often been asked and have often asked myself is: what would I do now, today, if a Third World War were to break out?

To begin with – and just for now forgetting about the different kind of warfare it would be – my actions would not be those of a child but those of an adult, an adult who knows the tricks and knows the dangers and fears, which makes it a different cuppa tea. Still I would do exactly the same things as way back then.

I say this with 100% certainty and in spite of the fact that I know I wouldn't be able to be a member of the Resistance the way I was then. With a body that has gone on strike and a wheelchair that’s so sophisticated I cannot even do wheelies, I would have to perform acts of resistance and sabotage in a different way.

I would do my utter-utmost to keep children out of the filthy Game of War, but be able and quite willing to instruct adults. I could teach them how to steal, how to transfer messages, how to kill and not get killed and perhaps even be a super decoy: a little old smooth-talking lady with grey hair, green eyes, and a charming smile, what more do you want?

Seriously, though, I will never be able to just let things happen without putting up a fight and I think that 'Underground' Resistance to any oppressor can be carried out by anybody and everybody, no matter his or her physical condition (though a good pair of legs does make things easier). And I know from experience that 'Underground' Resistance often is much more effective and undermining than open warfare.

One thing is for sure: I am not a hero, but I damn well will fight injustice and oppression no matter what country I'm living in. Resistance is not primarily physical, it is above all mental, and the fight for justice and against injustice, racism, discrimination and oppression is stateless … I hope.

Was It Worth It?

A few years back I was asked if writing Rachel Sarai's Vineyard was worth it. The question again came up twice, so I went back to what I answered then, since I still feel the same way about it.

Was writing Rachel Sarai's Vineyard worth it and will it serve a purpose? Good question, that one, but darn hard to answer.
To begin with the last part: will it serve a purpose? I have no idea, but I desperately hope it will.

I hope it will show people part of 'what it was like', especially what it was like to be young during a time of war, how it feels to be occupied (and your country is never occupied by nice people, is it?).

I hope that it will also show that WWII consisted of more than a madman trying to take over the world and butchering millions in concentration camps. A madman, goose step followed by brainless nothings who thought they were superior because he told them they were.

It will show less spectacular things than the Battle of This and the Battle of That, This or That Day, but it will show those those were not 'in' it (occupied, I mean) what it was like and what was done (or not done) about it.

Perhaps it will also show that young children are very responsible and tough human beings when it comes to matters of Life and Death and I know for sure that it helped other, often misunderstood war veterans – be it of WWII, Korea, Vietnam,Iraq, you name it – and showed them they were not the only ones with that uninterrupted double-bill horror film playing in their heads and souls. Talking with them and their families solved quite a few dramatic, nearly unsolvable puzzles and brought about more understanding.

I also hope it will wake some people up to what physical and especially mental child abuse is all about and give those who wonder what goes on in the mind of a young girl who's being raped a damn clear picture of the damage such an act can do.

And then there is the destruction of a person's roots, the mystery surrounding his/her birth.

Was it worth it and will it serve a purpose?
Yes, for me it was worth it and if I am very honest, something I could not get around. I don't know if it will serve a purpose, but I do hope it will.

And they call it PTSD

An interesting thing about people who have been scarred by whatever kind of 'war' (mentally or physically), is that they hardly ever talk about it for a very long time and some never. I'm one of those.
Do we have a hard time believing this happened to us? Are we ashamed? Do we feel people will not understand? Are we afraid to show our pain? All of it, I think, but a major factor remains the fact that people do not, can't understand many of the things we lived through and survived, most people can't imagine the horrors we have been exposed to, the fear, the anger and later, when the 'war' is over, most people do not understand the change in us.
Some … what shall I call them? War veterans? Okay, some war veterans come back home, some of them safe and sound, others wounded, mutilated, shell-shocked and always, always changed. Yes, all of us come out of it changed and some to such an extend that their wives/husbands and children, their parents, friends don't understand what the hell is wrong with them.
They survived, didn't they? They are alive, aren't they? They came back, didn't they?
Yep, they did … with a backpack of the most god-awful 'souvenirs', memories that haunt them day and night and probably will for the rest of their lives. Mental and physical abuse and rape? That's war, too … and a bloody backpack you cannot get rid of, but learn to live with.

Come, Let’s Toll That Bell

He was your Grandfather,
he wasn’t mine.
She was my Mother,
she wasn’t yours.
He survived, his soul in shreds,
(so hard for him to live with),
she died, her remains somewhere
in Auschwitz (hard for me to live with).
We never even heard of him,
of that soldier, I mean,
but his family
was handed the telegram
politely announcing his death
in a bloody senseless war
in a far-off land.
The new captain on
his country’s ship came
just too late
for this son
brother
friend
lover
husband
father.
Today, November 11th,
one war ended,
in May of every year
we remember another one.
Then there are, to
name a few,
some ended
some still going on and on:
Korea
and Vietnam,
Irak,
Iran (next one?)
Lebanon,
Afghanistan
the Middle East
Africans killing their brothers,
fathers,
mothers
sisters
and on
and on
and on
is goes
and all we can do
is help those who survived,
but still live it,
still feel it crawling under their skin,
still cannot sleep
when thinking back to
a pal
my pal
your pal
his pal
our pal
blow to pieces.
We can help them and
helplessly wonder,
When will it all end?

Come, let us rejoice! We still are able
to be sad, feel the loss and mourn.
It’s more than most of those running
this mad world seem to be capable of.
Let’s rejoice that, upon seeing a poppy,
we remember and feel the loss.
Let’s not give up remembering,
let’s not be shy to shout it out,
let’s toll that bell,
year after year,
lest they forget.

© Deborah Rey 2009

They Blow My Horn...

*This is a superb novel which should be receiving literary awards, not harassment from jealous and small-minded detractors. It is harrowing, passionate and unforgettable. I can see that Deborah is rightfully determined that it shall not be suppressed, by anybody. May it at last receive the recognition that it so richly deserves.
David Gardiner (UK)


*Last night, after everyone was in bed, I started to read RACHEL SARAI'S VINEYARD and couldn’t stop… it was already 1 o’clock in the morning when I forced myself to go to bed… and I dreamed about Rachel, big and small, mother, Marie, Mado, father… and this morning I made my coffee and came straight here to read the next chapters… I ADORE it! It is amazingly vivid and we can see little Rachel and feel the pain of big Rachel and wonder about mother: how could she? And in some way try to see the kind of courageous woman that confront the germens, behind the evil mother and wife… And: “I sifted and selected and sorted all my old memories and mentally washed them at ninety-five degrees. To make them shrink. You cannot throw out memories, 'cause the buggers always find their way back, but you can make them shrink so they no longer fit.” – is the most brilliant and intelligent way to finish this amazing story… Thank you so very much for sending me the link. A flying warm hug angi
Angelina Neves (Mozambique)

*Amazing. Unforgettable. Few books I've read have stayed in my mind, but this is tops. For many reasons. I was gripped from beginning to end, when I often abandon a book by page 30. Brilliant.
Sally Spedding (UK)

*Truly remarkable. An outstanding talent.
John Francis (UK)

*I can step into the horror, with you so brave, magnificently defiant, trailing your lost childhood after you like a tattered rag doll. You are a witness and a witness gone through fire is a prophet. I throw my arms around you, raise you as high as I can. You are a lark, born of a dead tree.
Karen Corcoran Dabkowski (USA)Editor of The Blue House Magazine

*Deborah Rey's, Rachel Sarai's Vineyard, is a novel that illuminates the resilience and stamina of children that live in the world of war. It is something that many of us do not prefer to read because it is so disturbing. Having said this, I at times winced in sheer agony for the child that was thrown into raw adulterated circumstances at seven years of age. However, that is exactly a facet of Rey's brilliance that is so rewarding in her novel. Her choice of words with the story's unfolding, speak truly from the soul. Part of the novel's lasting quality is the gut wrenching truth. One cannot help but feel they are with Rachel in a very compassionate way and will stay by her side until she is indeed, safe.
In reading Rachel Sarai's Vineyard, you might be amazed, as I was, how such a young child could accomplish the tasks she did. Then you realize the young girl's strength and determination to outwit the enemy. In the end, Rachel is successful on many levels as she demonstrates that brutality is damaging to the soul in words, in deeds and in thoughts. Her ability to adapt and confront is an astounding achievement considering the stresses of war-torn families and its dysfunctional components.
Without giving the story away, I can say that I have emerged from the book a better person. And I feel a more profound sense of the perils we selfishly impose on fellow human beings. Rey has spoken the truth and has chosen the path where love and respect prevail. This is exemplified in the book with the tumultuous relationships of the family and her resolution of accepting the unknown answers to her questions and her appreciation of love and life. This is a triumphant release on many levels. And I am proud of Deborah Rey for speaking her soul, and choosing love over hate.
Beth Stolar Kehayes (USA)

*I used to think all the classic stories of World Word II had been told. I was wrong. This is unique, special and unpredictable. A rare and enlightening piece of work.
John Shaw (UK)

*... and I was/am/will be speechless to read these lauding words coming from esteemed and great authors one and all.
Deborah Rey (France)

What Others Say About The Book (and me)

*This is, quite simply, an astonishing book. It confronts the reader with truths that most will never see and all would choose to avoid. But it is so powerfully written, that it blazes. It burns. The style is unique. I can’t think of anyone who writes like this. And I cannot imagine what it must have been like writing it. Putting down on paper the manipulation, the child’s bewilderment, the pain, the hurt. I will be re-reading it, but not until it has worked through me and out again. It is such a remarkable story, told in such a remarkable way that it must be read. For the perspective on the Nazis, it must be told. The casual brutality of their occupation outside of the camps is something that is not really written or read about nowadays. And from a personal relationship perspective, this is a book which has to exist. ‘The evil that men do’ in both its forms, collective and very much individual.
Joe Stein (UK)

*OOOFFF. Such powerful writing. So much emotion. Some parts almost too painful to read. How could any woman have punished an innocent child for something for which it had no responsibility? I truly hated Mother until I had finished reading to the end, when at least I understood the reason for her methodic cruelty; but it was still unforgivable. I hope that publishing this harrowing account has been cathartic. A novel? Hm.
Susie Kelly (France)

*This full length story is written by a lady that means so much to me. Deborah was the force behind "La Fenêtre", a series of anthologies. (make it a point to find one) I'm sure after you read this novel, you will want more of Deborah Rey.
Carl Palmer (USA)

*What strikes me, is the skill with which Rey has woven the story with the voices of young Rachel and the present 'Rachel'. Young Rachel is an absolute star and what she has had to endure almost seems to make her a person and personality in her own right, far less the younger version of the author. I could see this as a film and also as an excellent stage play, and I would definitely like to see as many people as possible reading/seeing the story of a remarkable person (young and older). I don't think I've ever read anything so sensitively written in its honesty, ie. being true to the voice of the narrator.
A beautifully written and heart-wrenching book. Not an easy read at times, but life isn't easy. This author has lived, and inspires readers by her continued endurance, with grace. Should be used on MA courses.
Kim Schroeder (Germany)