conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a description for a book titled What World is Left about Theresienstadt, Annekes, Cross with the genre: Teen & Young Adult, Literature & Fiction.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: *Starred Review* Growing up in a secular Jewish home in Holland, Anneke cares little about Judaism, so she has no faith to lose when, in 1943, her family is deported to Theresienstadt, the Nazi concentration camp. At 14, she suffers backbreaking labor and foul, unsanitary conditions along with more than 40,000 prisoners, who are all crowded into a town built for 7,000. Always there is the terror of being sent on the dreaded transports to the gas chambers. Based on the experiences of the authors mother, who survived two years in Theresienstadt butdid not speak about it for more than 60 years, this novel is narrated in Annekes first-person, present-tense voice. The details are unforgettable: Annekes irritation with her pesky little brother; her friendship and romance with young people who are sent, later on, to the death camps; the hunger that drives her and her grandfather to eat the enamel in their cups; her shame and anger. The questions raised in the authors note will lead readers back to the parallel, heartbreaking issues in the fictional story. Why didthe authors mother keep silent for so long? Was she ashamed that she survived because her father, a famous artist, helped the Nazis by prettying up the model camp for aRed Cross inspection? And why did the Red Cross fall for it? An important addition to the Holocaust curriculum. Grades 7-12. --Hazel Rochman
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Reverse the sentences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: --Hazel Rochman. Grades 7-12. Why didthe authors mother keep silent for so long? Was she ashamed that she survived because her father, a famous artist, helped the Nazis by prettying up the model camp for aRed Cross inspection? And why did the Red Cross fall for it? An important addition to the Holocaust curriculum. The questions raised in the authors note will lead readers back to the parallel, heartbreaking issues in the fictional story. The details are unforgettable: Annekes irritation with her pesky little brother; her friendship and romance with young people who are sent, later on, to the death camps; the hunger that drives her and her grandfather to eat the enamel in their cups; her shame and anger. Based on the experiences of the authors mother, who survived two years in Theresienstadt butdid not speak about it for more than 60 years, this novel is narrated in Annekes first-person, present-tense voice. Always there is the terror of being sent on the dreaded transports to the gas chambers. At 14, she suffers backbreaking labor and foul, unsanitary conditions along with more than 40,000 prisoners, who are all crowded into a town built for 7,000.*Starred Review* Growing up in a secular Jewish home in Holland, Anneke cares little about Judaism, so she has no faith to lose when, in 1943, her family is deported to Theresienstadt, the Nazi concentration camp
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: What World is Left
  When Father looks into the Nazi's eyes and speaks in a calm even voice, I am shocked that he can lie so easily. "No, I haven't."
  The soldier's eyes take on a strange glimmer. Opa shuts his eyes. I watch in horror as the Nazi's gloved hand forms a tight fist and he strikes Father—right in the mouth. Blood spurts from Father's lips, but he doesn't utter a sound. The only noise comes from Mother, who is whimpering. I squeeze her hand hard to make her stop. If you show any sign of weakness, the Nazis become even crueler.
  When the Nazi removes his gloves, I have to suck in my breath so I will not be the one to whimper at the sight of his stubby fingers. My left breast throbs. He reaches inside a brown envelope he has tossed on my mattress. "What can you tell me about this drawing?" he asks Father.
  This time Father flinches. I lean forward a little so I can see the drawing. Mercifully, it isn't one of Father's. This is a charcoal sketch with more black in it than white. Though I've never seen it before, there is something familiar about its style: the hatched lines, the attention to detail. I'm almost certain it was done by Norbert Troller, another artist in Father's studio.
  No wonder Father is flinching. Mother must realize it too, because I feel her body suddenly go rigid.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: What World is Left
  When Father looks into the Nazi's eyes and speaks in a calm even voice, I am shocked that he can lie so easily. "No, I haven't."
  The soldier's eyes take on a strange glimmer. Opa shuts his eyes. I watch in horror as the Nazi's gloved hand forms a tight fist and he strikes Father—right in the mouth. Blood spurts from Father's lips, but he doesn't utter a sound. The only noise comes from Mother, who is whimpering. I squeeze her hand hard to make her stop. If you show any sign of weakness, the Nazis become even crueler.
  When the Nazi removes his gloves, I have to suck in my breath so I will not be the one to whimper at the sight of his stubby fingers. My left breast throbs. He reaches inside a brown envelope he has tossed on my mattress. "What can you tell me about this drawing?" he asks Father.
  This time Father flinches. I lean forward a little so I can see the drawing. Mercifully, it isn't one of Father's. This is a charcoal sketch with more black in it than white. Though I've never seen it before, there is something familiar about its style: the hatched lines, the attention to detail. I'm almost certain it was done by Norbert Troller, another artist in Father's studio.
  No wonder Father is flinching.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me three more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: When I hear the sounds of a train chug-chugging into the camp, I groan. Please, I think, don't send us any more typhus-infected prisoners!
  By the time I report to the diet kitchen, Frau Davidels has already heard the latest news. "This train isn't from the east, Anneke," she tells me. "It's from Holland."
  Now I see why Opa was eager to see who came from Bergen-Belsen. It has been over a year since any Hollanders arrived in Theresienstadt. Perhaps these new arrivals will have information. Surely they will be able to tell us if the war really is coming to an end. "Can I go, Frau Davidels? Please!"
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Terezin was designed to house seven thousand soldiers. But during the Holocaust, the town had nearly ten times as many inhabitants. It is estimated that at its most crowded, there were four prisoners per square meter.
  And yet, seen from a certain perspective, the prisoners who were sent here—mostly Jews, but also political prisoners—were the lucky ones. Though more than thirty thousand prisoners died in Theresienstadt, most of malnutrition and typhus, the camp was not a death camp like Sobibor or Auschwitz-Birkenau. There were no gas chambers.
  In those bleak days, the trick was to find some way—any way—to remain in Terezin. This despite the watery broth prisoners lined up for at lunch and supper; the bedbugs and the lice; and the inhuman hours spent at tedious, often backbreaking, work. That was because Theresienstadt's inhabitants suspected— rightly—that to be sent on one of the frequent train transports east was worse.
  Theresienstadt was also the scene of an elaborate hoax. In 1943, after the Danish Red Cross announced its plan to send a commission to visit the camp, the Nazi high command decided to gussy up the place. The work, known as the Embellishment, was carried out by prisoners, who built false storefronts, erected a monument and planted sapling poplars in the main square.
  My mother spent a little over two years in Theresienstadt. She, her two siblings and their parents survived thanks to my grandfather, Jo Spier, a Dutch artist who, among other tasks, made propaganda drawings for the Nazis. My mother was fourteen when she was sent to Theresienstadt; she was sixteen when the camp was liberated in 1945.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Reverse the sentences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: My mother was fourteen when she was sent to Theresienstadt; she was sixteen when the camp was liberated in 1945.. She, her two siblings and their parents survived thanks to my grandfather, Jo Spier, a Dutch artist who, among other tasks, made propaganda drawings for the Nazis.
  My mother spent a little over two years in Theresienstadt. The work, known as the Embellishment, was carried out by prisoners, who built false storefronts, erected a monument and planted sapling poplars in the main square. In 1943, after the Danish Red Cross announced its plan to send a commission to visit the camp, the Nazi high command decided to gussy up the place.
  Theresienstadt was also the scene of an elaborate hoax. That was because Theresienstadt's inhabitants suspected— rightly—that to be sent on one of the frequent train transports east was worse. This despite the watery broth prisoners lined up for at lunch and supper; the bedbugs and the lice; and the inhuman hours spent at tedious, often backbreaking, work.
  In those bleak days, the trick was to find some way—any way—to remain in Terezin. There were no gas chambers. Though more than thirty thousand prisoners died in Theresienstadt, most of malnutrition and typhus, the camp was not a death camp like Sobibor or Auschwitz-Birkenau.
  And yet, seen from a certain perspective, the prisoners who were sent here—mostly Jews, but also political prisoners—were the lucky ones. It is estimated that at its most crowded, there were four prisoners per square meter. But during the Holocaust, the town had nearly ten times as many inhabitants.Terezin was designed to house seven thousand soldiers