A few weeks ago, I was reading Maus II on the Skytrain when I was interrupted by a man in his late 50’s. The man seemed visibly excited that I was reading Maus, and  explained that he had previously taught high school history in South Korea, where Maus was mandatory reading for his students.

In our conversation, the man observed that many books about the Holocaust have “happy” (or at least optimistic) endings, with liberation or escape. Maus, for him, however, was heart wrenching and left him feeling empty.

I haven’t read enough memoirs or books written about the Holocaust to know if I agree with him about the first part. But I do know what he meant by that empty feeling you get after finishing Maus. Vladek’s telling of his story ends with his happy reunion with Anja (135). However, as the reader who is very early on informed about Anja’s fate, this ending doesn’t make it feel as if there’s closure. In our class discussion about this last page, one student brought up the visual signifiers of this lack of a “happy ending”. One of these visual cues was the representation of Anja and Vladek’s graves jutting into the frame, with the dates of their deaths so far apart from one another.

In class, especially with reference to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, we have discussed how sometimes injustices like the Indian Residential School System and the Holocaust are framed as events that are rooted in the past. We have to investigate, acknowledge and reconcile these events, but they are not regarded as ongoing. The legacy of the IRS has repercussions that victims and their families still deal with today. Similarly, Maus demonstrates how the legacy and trauma of the Holocaust is ongoing and not simply in the past. For me, the scene in the last panel is demonstrative of this ongoing trauma. Vladek stops the story, saying, “I’m tired from talking, Richieu, and it’s enough stories for now” (135). Even though Vladek stops telling his story, he calls Art by the name of Art’s brother who died in the war. While this is an effect of Vladek’s mental deterioration due to age and health problems, it also shows how despite Vladek purposefully ending his storytelling, the trauma of his past and all that he’s lost is still pervasive.

In James E. Young’s article, he discusses Marianne Hirsch’s concept of “postmemory” and the idea of victims’ stories being transmitted to the post-war generation. Vladek’s memory of the Holocaust and the lasting effects of what he went through, coupled with the transmission of these memories to Art and future generations suggests how the legacy of the Holocaust continues to live on in the present.