I’ve thought about that too. Not as a comparison meant to shock, but as a reminder of what record-keeping becomes when power depends on disappearance.
Someone always ends up doing the work the state refuses to do. Writing names down. Holding dates together. Refusing to let the dead dissolve into administrative language.
That work is never neutral, and it’s never safe—but it’s often the only thing that interrupts erasure. Thank you for seeing that layer of it.
This is heartbreaking. I can’t help but think that someone took on this same task in Nazi Germany, trying to keep a record, holding the dead.
I’ve thought about that too. Not as a comparison meant to shock, but as a reminder of what record-keeping becomes when power depends on disappearance.
Someone always ends up doing the work the state refuses to do. Writing names down. Holding dates together. Refusing to let the dead dissolve into administrative language.
That work is never neutral, and it’s never safe—but it’s often the only thing that interrupts erasure. Thank you for seeing that layer of it.