‘A Mad Desire to Dance’ by Elie Wiesel

  Madness is what I’ll talk to you about — madness burdened with memories and with eyes like everyone else’s, though in my story the eyes are like those of a smiling child trembling with fear.
  You’ll ask: Is a madman who knows he’s mad really mad? Or: In a mad world, isn’t the madman who is aware of his madness the only sane person?
  Whether Doriel Waldman is indeed mad is a question that only the reader can answer.
  Doriel, the primary character of Elie Wiesel’s “A Mad Desire to Dance,” is the son of two World War II survivors. His mother was part of the resistance movement, able to remain under the Nazi radar only to die in a car accident along with Doriel’s father. The boy is sent to live with an uncle who encourages Doriel as he throws himself into Jewish studies. Though the scholarly Doriel learns much about his heritage, the ghosts of his dead family haunt him. He tries unsuccessfully to develop relationships with women in an effort to relieve his pain, but ultimately, these encounters leave him more lonely than before.
  Feeling as if he’s possessed by a demon, a much older Doriel seeks out the help of a therapist. He confesses his fear and shame to Dr. Therese Goldschmidt. He vows to reveal his past to her as they work to expunge his sorrow. However, his stories frustrate the therapist, who finds herself challenged by his puzzling, circular tales.
  Doriel’s story is told in chapters narrated by both himself and the therapist. His preoccupation with the past never allows him to fully embrace happiness. At times he fights his therapist, who dares him to answer some of the questions he has been unwilling to confront. He’s elusive, wanting to keep his secrets to himself. He’s safe in his solitude.
  Like madness, solitude is fear. 
  A solitary man is a man who is afraid. A man who is afraid is a solitary man. When solitude enters me, it becomes me. Solitude emerges unexpectedly when only the body belongs to me, but also when I belong to the body all alone. Solitude changes consciousness into a prison, a jail that I am afraid of leaving.
  Afraid of not understanding anything, afraid of understanding everything. Afraid of loving and afraid of not loving anymore. Afraid of forgetting everything and afraid of not forgetting anything: mangled bodies left lying about the battlefield, the slow and implacable death pangs of the survivors. Afraid of experiencing hunger, afraid of having no thirst for anything anymore. Afraid of dying and of living. Afraid of being afraid. Afraid of being alone when no one is here anymore. Afraid of being alone when the loved one is here.
  There exists a fear that is not yet death but that is no longer life.
  Through Wiesel’s poetic writing, Doriel’s thoughtful intelligence seems to plague him. Is he mad? You’ll have to decide.
  Wiesel is one of the most gifted writers of our time. He has won the Nobel Peace Prize, the United States Congressional Gold Medal, the Presidential Medal of Freedom, along with other awards. He has written dozens of books, including the highly praised memoir “Night” about his own experience during the Holocaust.
  With “A Mad Desire To Dance,” Wiesel continues to explore the murkiest depths of the soul, where questions of faith, love and loss remain deeply embedded in those who have witnessed the true faces and deeds of monsters.