There are certain books I usually avoid. Not necessarily those from a specific genre, or anything bearing an Oprah's Club sticker (although I will admit that those aren't my first choice of reading, just because)... not, I usually avoid anything to do with the Holocaust. Why? Because I grew up in a synagogue run (it seems) by Survivors. They meant well, but the Jewish education I got basically dealt with Abraham/Isaac/Jacob, Masada and then the Nazis. Year after year of that - nothing about the supposed joy of being Jewish, the contributions Jews made to the world, etc. They occasionally talked about pogroms, just for spice. There were films and talks and books, all about why They wanted to kill Us. By 9th grade, I'd had enough. I won't go to Schindler's List, I won't re-read Night. I've overdosed on that topic and just won't do it.
My experience on September 11th has left me feeling much the same: no need to see any of the movies, or read any of the books. It was too close (I don't need to relive the fear and panic I felt when I realized that I might lose Thing One)... too personal...
So, what has this got to do with my reading? Well, as you can see on the sidebar, I've just started The Zero. It's about a policeman living in the aftermath of That Day, working (for the moment) in That Place. He's having mini-blackouts, where he has no idea what's happend, and his son is treating him as though he died There.
I didn't intend to pick it up, but I did (at ALA, of course), and now that I'm reading it, I'm sort of enjoying it. Perhaps it's because it's about the aftermath, or perhaps it's because there's a mystery about what's wrong with him (and his future role helping with recovering documents for some shadowy people). In either case, it's easy for me to pretend that this isn't about That Day, that it's really a work of fiction.
We'll see how the rest goes.