Although the Holocaust took place almost half a century ago, it still leaves behind profound repercussions not only on its direct survivors, but also on their descendants – the second generation. In her book The Generation of Postmemory: Writing and Visual Culture after the Holocaust, Marianne Hirsch coins the term “postmemory” to describe how parents can pass on their traumatic memories to their children, and how these memories consequently become an integral part of their lives and their identities. Indeed, biographies and psychoanalytical research have proven that many descendants of Holocaust survivors display psychological symptoms similar to those of their parents, despite the fact that they were born many years after the Holocaust. Although many critics insist that postmemory does not qualify as actual memory because the children have not lived through the Holocaust themselves, postmemory is indeed a legitimate form of memory. Furthermore, when compared to memory, postmemory is equally traumatizing and painful.
Although postmemory is a frequent theme in many works from and on the second generation, its validity is still debated. Hirsch first defines the term as the relationship between the second generation and the memories they inherit from their parents by means of stories, images and behaviors among which they grew up. Karein Goertz, in her essay “Transgenerational Representations of the Holocaust: From Memory to ‘Post-Memory’” also describes postmemory as “a hybrid form of memory that distinguishes itself from personal memory by generational distance and from history by a deep personal connection” (33). Indeed, the prefix “post” in postmemory powerfully captures its essence as an aftermath, a temporal delay and characterizes its disconnectedness from the real sequence of events, setting it apart from the real memory of the survivors. However, it is hard to imagine how memory can be passed on intact from generation to generation, especially considering that the majority of the second generation, in contrast to their parents, was born and raised in a relatively peaceful period. Thus, many authors have questioned the validity of this connection between the second generation and the Holocaust. In his book The Imaginary Jew, Alain Finkielkraut claims that the second generation intentionally identify themselves with the Holocaust victims for two reasons. First, they feel guilty because their lives are significantly easier than the life-threatening situations their parents had to overcome. Second, their underlying motive is rather self-serving, because “to be Jewish was enough to escape the anonymity of an identity indistinguishable from others and the dullness of an uneventful life” (7). For the survivors, the Holocaust means “utter abandonment and anonymous death,” but for their children, it means “sympathy and honor” (11). Finkielkraut recounts how he, along with many other post-Holocaust Jews “forged a traffic spectacle from the tragedy of my people, and I was its hero” (12). He accuses these Jews - himself included - of being imaginary Jews, clinging on to their people’s history in order to make up for their relatively banal lives.
However, the majority of post-Holocaust works and research show that the second generation displays psychological symptoms as if they had actually experienced genocide. Eva Hoffman, in her book After Such Knowledge: Memory, History and the Legacy of the Holocaust, writes: “children of survivors have had to live out and struggle with […] the internal impact of gratuitous violence and the transmission of traumatic experience across generations” (xii). But before we can judge whether postmemory qualifies as actual memory, we need to question the authenticity of memory itself. Even the concept of memory provokes controversy, as we have not fully understood how our memory works neither scientifically nor philosophically. For the purpose of this paper, we will base our argument on the definition of memory as “a representation or reconstruction of past experience” (Koriat, Goldsmith, Pansky 482). It is noteworthy that this reconstruction is highly subjective and can be erroneous, as our perception is almost always flawed with personal liking and preconception. Regarding memory, Georges Duhamel, the brilliant French author and doctor, famously said: “Do not trust your memory, it is a net full of holes.” Based on this definition, we can then define postmemory as an attempt at re-reconstruction of past experience. Opponents can argue that postmemory is invalid, in that the descendants have not actually been through the Holocaust, and therefore cannot make a valid claim that they “remember” it. However, here we must note that the very essence of memory is uncertainty. Although the survivors have indeed been through the experiences, their recollection of it is highly subjective and can be misleading. This recollection, compared with the recollection the second generation has only by interacting with their parents, is just as full and as empty, as seemingly authentic and potentially deceiving. In some sense, postmemory is similar to self-deception, when somebody repeatedly lies to themselves until to one point, they actually believe that lie to be true. These two psychological processes exemplify how flawed and easily manipulable our perception of past events is. Therefore, postmemory qualifies as a type of memory, with its own unique psychological process.
Most of us gain our memories by living through them. For the Jewish survivors, they first learn about the events of the Holocaust and then come to understand its brutal consequences. However, their children learn about the Holocaust in an opposite trajectory: They first grasp a sense of its meanings, and then they only learn about the events after a very long time (Hoffman, 16). In their earliest stages, the children gain their first impression of the Holocaust through the unmistakable horror on their parents’ faces when they mention the Holocaust or recount their experiences in the camps. In her essay, Goertz describes how “the past resurfaces through the father’s nonverbal language of terror and superimposes itself onto the daughter’s present, impeding her growth to an unfettered present” (34). Hoffman echoes this by reminiscing about her own childhood, where “the presence of suffering was powerful enough so that it had to be absorbed (13). Finally, Hirsch provides a large context for these two authors’ claims by making the generalization: “Second-generation fiction, art, memoir, and testimony are shaped by the attempt to represent the long-term effects of living in close proximity to the pain, depression, and dissociation of persons who have witnessed and survived massive historical trauma” (34). Many scientific works have mentioned the telepathic connection between parents and children. Although this connection is still unexplained and unproven, we can inherently understand how through familial bond and daily interaction, parents and children can reach a level of understanding as to enable wordless emotional transmission. Furthermore, children, in their first formative years, have the habit of imitating their parents. This process of imitation also enables the transmission of the traumas and the memories from parents to children. In our daily life, we all have heard how children can inherit a trait, a habit, or a manner of talking from their parents. Therefore, it is not hard to imagine how they can also inherit the Holocaust trauma so deeply engraved in their parents.
Many of the narrative works produced by the second generation interestingly echo one detail: how the Holocaust resurfaces through the children’ bedtime stories. Hirsch brings up “the bedtime scene of childhood transmission,” where the Holocaust appears as a fairy tale told by the parents, a myth in a land beyond the imagination of the children (31). Hoffman echoes this by affirming “the generation after receives its first knowledge of the terrible events with only childish instruments of perception, and as a kind of fable” (17). These accounts show how parents transmit their memories to their children in the most personal and private scene of all – the family scene. The first information the children receive about the Holocaust is not its genocidal purpose, the universal shock it caused or its horrifyingly large scale. Initially, in their simple minds the Holocaust appears just as one of those worlds from their fable stories, a world, though so familiar through the stories they heard every night, is so remarkably different from the world they live in as to the point of beyond imagination. Hoffman, in her memoir Lost in Translation: A Life in a New Language, remembers her confusion as a child: “But I don’t understand what I remember” (24). Although at first they cannot reconstruct that world in their own heads, they can clearly sense its terrifying nature from their parents’ expression. This suggests a very intriguing point about the effects of postmemory on the second generation. They are born into it; their entire lives are shaped by the Holocaust even from before the moment that they are born. Hoffman contemplates how “I come from the war; it is my true origin” (23). For the survivors, although they have truly experienced the full-blown events of the Holocaust, they have lived their own lives before the Holocaust. It only shapes a portion of their lives. But for the second generation, the Holocaust shadows over their entire lives, from their earliest days and they have no way of escaping from it. Hoffman, in After Such Knowledge, contemplates: “The difference between coming into the world imbued with the Holocaust and having experienced a more normal life before turns out to be significant” (182). Although the Holocaust leaves more intense infliction on the direct survivors, they can always rely on their childhood memories to effectively deal with their new life in peace time. However, for the children, their entire lives from even before the moment they are born are shadowed with uncertainty and incoherency and their sufferings are, in some respect, even worse than those of their parents. Thus, as Hirsch points out: “[postmemory] approximates memory in its affective force and its psychic effects” (31). Therefore, postmemory is a legitimate type of memory, because it rivals memory both in terms of the authenticity of the reconstruction process and the psychological effects on the individuals.
However, there is still a fine line between memory and postmemory. Although Finkielkraut’s work seems overly critical and accusing, we have to concur that the children only experience the Holocaust indirectly through their parents. Thus, their traumas will be vastly different from those of their parents. The parents’ traumas stems from their firsthand experience of the brutality of Holocaust, but their children’ traumas come from their own parents’ traumas. In other words, they are traumatized because they grow up around traumatized people. Thus, postmemory and memory differ in their original sources. Also, there are many taboos associated with postmemory, with the most significant one being the feeling that Finkielkraut hyperbolized in his book: envy. In After Such Knowledge, Hoffman insightfully analyzed this feeling as “envy and, with a kind of logical inevitability, a sense of being secondary” (69). Envy is the most important distinction that sets the parents and the children apart, although they share the wounds from the Holocaust. This distinction is due to the fact that the traumas of the parents are universally recognized, and respected. Meanwhile, the majority of the public is still unaware about the Holocaust traumas on the children, and within the minority who is not, many scholars still doubts the validity of these traumas. Thus, it is time for the public to gain awareness about postmemory, to help the second generation overcome these wounds and move on with their own present.
The traumatizing effects of postmemory cannot be denied. However, postmemory is also a legacy, as Hoffman states: “It behooves us … to bring to it interpretation that may not be available to the victims; and … to move beyond the point of trauma itself” (196). The second generation serves as the only emotional and personal link between the present and the past. They have insights and perspectives that no history textbooks can provide. Therefore, as Goertz says: “members of this generation are to be the museums that preserve and transmit their parents’ legacy for posterity” (34). The traumatic experience is a legacy, a legacy stained with blood but still unique and precious. However, this generation should also be careful not to let this legacy dictate their current lives. Hoffman explores the unique responsibility of her generation: “we sometimes need the courage to depart from a sense of the past conveyed to us through the family, … and bring our own perspective to events” (197). It is easy to let events so disturbing and powerful shape their entire lives and identities, but if the second generation wants to truly preserve and develop the legacy left behind by their ancestors, they need to adopt a reflective and unbiased lens towards the Holocaust. They need to move on with their own lives and leave behind the past of their parents.
Postmemory, though riddled with questions and doubts, is a legitimate type of memory and leaves profound traumas on the second generation after the Holocaust. It is time for the second generation to acknowledge the unique psychological traumas passed on from their parents, and to separate this past from their present. The Holocaust, despite its genocidal nature, is still a historical legacy and the second generation, with their insights, is indeed the living museum of the Holocaust. They hold the key to a legacy that is terrifying but powerful, and deserves the awareness and attention from the public.

Works Cited Goertz, Karein. "Transgenerational Representations of the Holocaust: From Memory to "Post-Memory"." World Literature Today 72.1 (1998): 33-8. ProQuest. Web. 24 Oct. 2013. Hirsch, Marianne. The Generation of Postmemory: Writing and Visual Culture after the Holocaust. New York. Columbia University Press. 2012. Print Hoffman, Eva. After Such Knowledge: Memory, History, and the Legacy of the Holocaust. New York. Public Affairs. 2004. Print. Hoffman, Eva. Lost in Translation: Life in a new language. New York. Penguin Books. 1990. Print. Koriat, Asher, Morris Goldsmith, and Ainat Pansky. "Toward a Psychology of Memory Accuracy." Annual Review of Psychology 51 (2000): 481-537. ProQuest. Web. 14 Nov. 2013.