I’m deeply grateful for everyone who has purchased, read, and taken the time to review my book. A special thank you also to everyone who has spread the word to help promote this book, in the name of tolerance. And with all profits going to help get dogs out of kill shelters, lives are being saved.
“And finally I twist my heart round again, so that the bad is on the outside and the good is on the inside, and keep on trying to find a way of becoming what I would so like to be, and could be, if there weren’t any other people living in the world.” – Anne Frank
Once upon a not so long ago time, there was jaw-dropping disbelief that a government could be so divisive as to label the lives of some of its citizens as mattering less than others. That rights could be stripped away. That guns could be confiscated. That anyone who questioned the “authority” enacting these laws could not only be branded a social pariah and subsequently unfriended but also have their property confiscated, their reputations ruined, and their very lives eliminated. Paulette Mahurin’s gripping new novel, “The Seven Year Dress,” is not just a reminder of the graphic atrocities that were committed by an arrogant yet creepily charismatic leader; it’s a topical correlation to how dangerously close we already are to allowing history to repeat itself in the 21st century by doing nothing to stop it.
As with her previous books, Mahurin is a consummate researcher whose attention to detail instantly immerses readers in the sights, smells, sounds and pulse-pounding fears experienced by a young heroine whose only crime – and that of her loving family – was to be Jewish. The bookend approach to revealing the past is an effective one; we know the heroine herself will survive but at what cost and to what extent will the emotional and physical scars last a lifetime? As with Anne Frank, Helen Stein steadfastly believes that goodness will somehow prevail against the insidious black backdrop of horror, that all of the devastating rumors she has been hearing from her dearest friend Max can’t possibly be true. Until she learns firsthand behind the walls of Auschwitz that the rumors were just the tip of a deadly, escalating campaign against humanity…
It is a powerful story that will cause one to recoil in shock, to weep for the countless lives lost, to court speculation of what one’s own actions might be under such perverse and humiliating circumstances. And though there are bittersweet moments of tenderness in the death camp, Mahurin subliminally warns her readers not to get too attached, just as the prisoners themselves learned to be wary that trusting any show of kindness might result in heinous torture and a bullet to the head.