If this book were not written by the already famous Simon Wiesenthal it might not garner such notoriety. Had an unknown published it I doubt that it would be so widely used in teaching situations and as a base for discussion. Many of the commentators simply do homage to Wiesenthal by answering the prompt at the end of the story. I did not find the commentaries to be of much use. What possible difference could Simon's response make to those who perpetrated the crimes or to their victims? How would his forgiveness or rebuke change anything for any of those dead or alive? Would his response have altered Nazi behavior? Would it make a difference to future generations of criminals? I doubt it. Forgiveness is between the victim, the perpetrator and God. I'm not sure that a example from the past (Or a discussion of the past) makes much difference to the person who is either committing the crime or the victim sometime in the future.

Its not every day we come across a book that honestly changes us.
The Sunflower is a book, that sharpens the mind of the reader.
It can possibly even change the way a person thinks and views Forgiveness.

The book can be divided into two parts.

The first part of the book - The author tells of his personal experience in a concentration camp, and of the dying Nazi soldier who asked him for forgiveness. The question of if he did the right thing; haunts the author for the duration of his life, and so he has told his story to many people and asked them to answer what they would have done if they had been in his place.

The second part of the book - Are the answers of fifty three distinguished men and women. Theologians, political leaders, writers, jurists, psychiatrists, human rights activists, Holocaust survivors, and victims of attempted genocide in Bosnia, Cambodia, China, and Tibet.

Read his story, the varied answers, and then decide for yourself.

This book was fascinating. I was not expecting the ending, but totally understood it. It was a great read and recommend it to anyone who has ever had to deal with forgiveness, whether it was being the forgiver or the forgiven.

I absolutely loved this book. He talks about his experience in the concentration camps and how one SS soldier was on his death bed asking him for his forgiveness for a horrible act he committed, and his reaction to that request. You will also learn the significance of the sunflower. It definitely opens your mind and makes you think about your life and what you would have done in that situation. I highly recommend this book.

This is an excellent and provocative book. I recommend it without reservation. I am surprised, however, that there are no responses from mainline protestant clergy and only one or two from protestant leaders in Christian theology. There are numerous responses from Catholic priests, bishops, and theologians, but no protestant clergy. (There is one Episcopalian -- a converted Catholic priest!) The Catholic responses generally, in my view, follow a similar argument and reach a unified conclusion. But the concept of repentance and forgiveness (especially via the authority of clergy or the church) is very different between Catholic and reform theologies. It is a shame that the Christian responses are generally limited to the Catholic Church.

The Sunflower is a well written book by a well known author. I found the content disturbing. The question asked by the author makes our minds open to many conclusions. The answer to his question and the opinions by men and women of note are interesting to read. This was read for a Book Club discussion.

My nephew had had to read this years ago for a high school class. he loaned it to me at that time so we could talk about it. I was expecting a superficial, perhaps dramatic read on the topic. I was surprised at the depth of the book and the way it provoked me to examine my own feelings on Forgiveness. Recently, I found myself in a situation demanding I be clear on my feelings and actions concerning forgiveness and searched out this book again to help me work it out. It has been about 10 years since I read it last time, but it had left a good enough impression and I am finding it still relevant.

I stumbled on The Sunflower a couple of years ago, and as soon as I read it, I knew I had to use it in my theological foundations class, which I have now done for the past few semesters. Without fail, students have been absolutely blown away by it - they regularly list it as their single favorite aspect of the class. The story does not let the reader off the hook easily - "What would you have done?" is only one of a dozen impossible questions the book puts before the reader. Considering the meaning of the idea of God being "on leave" and leaving behind no deputy, asking not only whether one should forgive but if one CAN forgive in such a situation, wondering what Karl's story says about the potential of humanity for evil and for redemption - this book is truly a jewel, with any number of brilliant facets and possible modes of interpretation.

This book looks at forgiveness from many different perspectives. It invites you to look at your own personal perspective and learn about how other people and cultures view it. It is a great book for a book club or group to read and review. It promotes discussion and honesty. I recommend it highly for the insight it provides on a very difficult subject.

One of my professors extolled the virtues of this book, but I was not too thrilled with it. It was ok. Still have not read the whole thing and will likely give it away to someone who may appreciate it.

Simon has written a gut wrenching book with dignity and class. He has a way with words that touch the soul. This should be required reading about overcoming the most horrific of situations with dignity.

This wonderful little book will challenge every grain of moral weight you think you have, and without a doubt you will be better for reading it.
Every person should read it.

I've used Wiesenthal's The Sunflower as a text in college courses several times. On each occasion my original high estimation of Wiesenthal's narrative grows, while my dissatisfaction with the chorus of responses that takes up nearly two-thirds of the latest edition deepens.

Wiesenthal asks exactly the right questions that all of us need to confront about forgiveness. Is forgiveness always ours to bestow? Is it permissible or even possible to forgive on behalf of others? Should forgiveness be tied to repentance on the part of the transgressor? Should the transgressor try to atone for his/her wrongdoing? What if, as in the case of the dying SS-man Wiesenthal meets, the performance of overt acts of atonement are impossible? Are there certain actions that are unforgiveable, or is the philosopher Jacques Derrida correct when he insists (On Cosmopolitanism and Forgiveness) that the only kind of forgiving that makes any sense is the kind that forgives the unforgiveable? And in a godless world--a world where, as several characters in The Sunflower say, wickedness is so rampant that God seems to have gone on leave--is forgiveness necessarily a different kind of phenomenon than it would be in a Godded world?

Weisenthal doesn't pretend to answer any of these questions, but he and the other characters in his memoir discuss them, presenting different perspectives and coming to different conclusions. The very real value of The Sunflower is that it encourages readers to think about the questions.

Which brings me to the responses. Most are impressionistic, unanalytical, platitudinous, and hence totally out of step with the brutal authenticity of Weisenthal's text. A few stand out from the others: Robert Coles', Rebecca Goldstein's, Abraham Joshua Heschel's, Primo Levi's. But most can be given a pass. My suggestion would be to focus first and foremost on Weisenthal's text and forget about the responses. A nice cinematic complement to the book is the documentary "Forgiving Dr. Mengele."

Summoned to the bedside of a dying Nazi who had willingly participated in the systematic annihilation of Europe's Jews, concentration camp inmate Simon Wiesenthal found himself the captive, solitary witness to this 21-year-old SS man's confession of responsibility for committing acts of unspeakable cruelty.

Kurt had asked a nurse to bring him a Jew (any Jew would do); quite by chance the nurse selected Wiesenthal from the work detail assigned to the hospital that day. Against his will, he listened to this man recount his experience of packing a house full of Jewish men, women, and children and then setting the house on fire while lobbing grenades into the inferno and shooting at anyone who had attempted to escape this hell. Kurt watched a father, mother, and small boy leap from a window to their certain death. Before the leap, the father had shielded the child's eyes.

The image haunted Kurt, who was unable to fight again. Instead, he froze on the battlefield and suffered and injury that first cost him his sight and then took his life. Before he died, though, he wanted to confess his sins to a Jew that he might be forgiven and die in peace.

Wiesenthal, who was about the same age as this soldier, heard him out but refused to forgive. Instead, he offered silence in response to the story and returned to the concentration camp.

The experience haunted Wiesenthal; soon after it happened, he discussed it with his friends back at the camp, with a Polish Catholic seminarian. Much later, he presented the story to theologians, political leaders, Holocaust survivors, and victims of other attempted genocides and asked each of these persons what he or she would have done in the same situation.

The story itself is first book of The Sunflower; the responses to the question, "The Symposium," are the text of the second book in this volume. Broadly grouped, the respondents are Jews and Christians, primarily. There are two Buddhist respondents and one Chinese respondent who makes no reference to religion though his response is in keeping with Buddhist thinking. Within these broad categories respondents reflect on different facets of the experience Wiesenthal describes and facets of their faith and life experiences and knowledge to make a response.

The Jewish respondents point to the fact that only the person against whom a sin has been committed has the right to forgive the sinner. Therefore, Kurt cannot be forgiven; his victims are dead. The Christian respondents point out, first, that they feel they have no right to address the question because they have never been on the receiving end of genocide. Then they point out that God alone can forgive and that it is incumbent on each of us sinners to find forgiveness in our hearts for others. The Buddhists respond, as Buddhists do, in the present tense and with an eye on enlightenment--a release from suffering. Each perspective reflects a different concept of individuality and therefore of the nature of accountability.

For this reader, The Sunflower accomplishes the important task of bringing the reader into the concentration camp alongside one of its victims, into the hospital room of the dying SS man, and into the heart of the questions the Holocaust raises about responsibility, accountability, forgiveness, restitution, and grace. These are questions that refuse pat answers and therefore remain alive and active in our minds. Wiesenthal's book challenges our ability to empathize with those who suffer and our ability to think about how and why we believe what we do about ourselves and each other. It is a humble and beautiful tribute to those who suffered and died in the Holocaust. We too can honor their memory by participating in the conversation this book presents.

Recieved item on time, right when we were told it would arrive. Book in very good condition.

Simon Wiesenthal is best known as the man who had been indefatigable and single-minded in trying to bring Nazi criminals to justice as long as there was a single one of them left. For him this was an absolute moral imperative and something that he felt he owed to the memory of the murdered millions of Jews, of whom Wiesenthal could so easily have been one: he was the survivor of a succession of concentration camps: the Janowska camp outside Lvov, Plaszow (the camp of Schindler's List), Auschwitz, Gross-Rosen, and finally Mauthausen. It may come as a surprise to some readers that Wiesenthal was sensitive to the moral problems raised by the issue of forgiveness - yet this book is a moving meditation on that theme. According to his biographer, Hella Pick, Wiesenthal had `always considered it his most important book'.

Cruelty and casual murder were everyday occurrences in the Janowska camp, and are described in gut-wrenching detail in the first half of this episode from Wiesenthal's life. While doing slave labour at a military hospital near the camp, he was secretly brought to the death-bed of Karl, a gravely wounded 21-year old SS officer whose conscience was wracked - not just at death's door, but apparently immediately after the event - by his participation in a horrific massacre of Jews in Dnepropetrovsk. The officer got a nurse to find `a Jew', who happened to be Wiesenthal, to whom he could make his confession and from whom he could seek forgiveness. Wiesenthal wanted to get away; but something - apart from the dying man's grip - made him stay to hear him out. A Catholic priest later told him that that alone should have helped the man to die in peace, since confession and genuine repentance are more important than any absolution. But at the end Wiesenthal left the room without saying anything. Quite apart from the sufferings he was himself undergoing at the hands of the SS just then and from his expectation of death at their hands at any moment, it was not for him to offer forgiveness on behalf of the victims of Dnepropetrovsk. But the issue haunted him - had he done the right thing? After the war he sought out the SS man's mother. The young man had come from a devout and Social Democrat family who were distressed when their son had joined the Hitler Youth and even more when he had volunteered to join the SS. But the mother was convinced that her son had been a good man. Wiesenthal said nothing to her about what her son had done... The short but haunting book charges the reader to put himself in Wiesenthal's shoes and to ask himself `What would I have done?'

Before publishing his book in 1969, Wiesenthal sent his manuscript to a number of distinguished thinkers for their response, and the comments of ten of them were included in the first edition. Further contributions were made by others to the 1997 and 1998 editions: there are now 53 altogether, and they make up nearly two-thirds of the book. They include - to name only the most famous - those of the Dalai Lama, Cardinal König, Primo Levi, Deborah Lipstadt, Herbert Marcuse, and Desmond Tutu.

Some of the respondents seem to me to veer away from the question Wiesenthal had posed, and draw a distinction between forgetting and forgiving; others discuss the question of collective guilt (some reject it; others blame all the bystanders) - interesting, but irrelevant in the context of this story. Almost all agree that whilst individuals can forgive offences committed against themselves, no human can forgive in the name of other victims. In such cases, if the victims cannot be asked because they are dead, perhaps only God can be asked for forgiveness - though one respondent says that God was hardly fit to forgive something which He had after all allowed to happen. And the Jewish tradition has it that even God will not forgive the unpardonable sin of murder. It is unpardonable, because it is the one sin for which reparation is impossible. The Christian tradition, basing itself on Jesus asking God to forgive them, `for they know not what they do', and on the idea that you must hate the sin, but not the sinner, shaped the answer of some Christian respondents. Some say that forgiveness is not only a boon to the penitent, but also for the victim, freeing him from the burden and poison of hate. Two Asian contributors, one a survivor from the Khmer Rouge and the other a victim of the Cultural Revolution in China, blame only the top leadership, and have some understanding for those who were brainwashed.

One respondent hopes that Karl will rot in hell; others also refuse to accept the genuineness of his repentance, indeed stress the offensiveness of him putting a Jew - chosen not as an individual but picked at random - under the moral burden of hearing the confession and being asked to forgive. Wiesenthal at least saw Karl as an individual and is capable of some compassion towards the dying man and later towards his mother (but one respondent thinks that Wiesenthal did wrong to shield her from the knowledge of what her son had done).

These are just some of the responses to Wiesenthal's question. It is a question addressed to all of us, and it is not surprising that this book has been used as a text in many courses on the Holocaust.

Multiple issues arrived ahead of schedule and are in new condition.The Sunflower: On the Possibilities and Limits of Forgiveness (Newly Expanded Paperback Edition)

A wonderful short story of 100 pages, written very well. The opinions of all the commentators afterwards on Wiesenthals dilemma is very intriguing. This book gets you involved, and could be the best book ever written on the topic of forgiveness. You just can't help but think deeply about the author's decision to forgive, and also about forgiveness in your own life.

This book is a must for anyone who wants to understand the mortal dilemas which affected those who suffered so much from the violence of the holocaust. Amazing that ther author was able to retain his huaminity in the face of such evil, and a testament to his moral character.

This book focuses on a cogent question by way of a true story and invites response from all sorts of people with pertinent experience, providing biographies of these respondents. The topic is forgiveness. I found the analysis by Dennis Prager, an L.A. talk show host, the most understanding of Christian/Jewish outlooks and Jose Hobday's perhaps the best of the Christian contributions. I am eager to discuss it with members of my theology group.

This book focuses on a cogent question by way of a true story and invites response from all sorts of people with pertinent experience, providing biographies of these respondents. The topic is forgiveness. I found the analysis by Dennis Prager, an L.A. talk show host, the most understanding of Christian/Jewish outlooks and Jose Hobday's perhaps the best of the Christian contributions. I am eager to discuss it with members of my theology group.

The title of the book comes from the tall, bright sunflowers placed upon the German soldier's graves who are buried just outside the concentration camp where the Jewish prisoners must pass daily on their way to work projects. Each grave had one "as straight as a soldier on parade . . . . " The tall golden flowers stand in contrast to the unmarked, unidentifiable mass graves, in which most of the prisoners will end up
.
This revised edition was issued in honor of the twentieth anniversary of its publication. It is divided into two sections: an extraordinary request to Simon for forgiveness by a dying 21 old SS man and the 53 responses (ten from the original volume) from prominent theologians, political leaders, writers, jurists, psychiatrists, human rights activists, Holocaust survivors, and victims of attempted genocides in Bosnia, Cambodia, China, and Tibet. Their answers reflect the teachings of their diverse beliefs - Jewish, Christian, Buddhist, Muslim, secular, and agnostic - and remind us that Wiesenthal's question is not limited to events of the past. Certainly there are fundamental lessons that are as essential today as they were 60 years ago.

Who can forgive crimes committed against others asks Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, one of the most significant Jewish theologians of the 20th century.

Are there any similarities between the national guilt faced by the German people for the Holocaust and ours for the institution of slavery and the genocide of Native Americans wonders Martin E. Marty, religious scholar and Lutheran Pastor.

Are followers in committing atrocities as guilty as their leaders inquires Dith Pran, photographer and subject of the film, "The Killing Fields," about Cambodian genocide.

Is silence its own answer if we could but learn to listen to it? Are there questions that are unanswerable queries of the soul, matters too awe-full for human response, too demonic for profound rational resolution poses Hubert Locke, Dean Emeritus, Evans School of Public Policy, University of Washington

By not forgiving do we somehow remain victims wonders Harold Kushner, Rabbi and best-selling author.

One day as part of a detail working at a hospital, Simon it taken by a nurse to see a dying young SS officer named Karl Seidl, who wants forgiveness and absolution from a Jew for the terrible things he had done, in particular an incident in which he murdered 150 Jewish men, women and children who were herded into a small house that was set on fire and when those trying to escape or jump to safety were all shot. Simon has no answer and leaves. He refuses a package of clothing the officer wants him to have telling her to ship it to the deceased's mother.

During the next two years, Wiesenthal shared this story with fellow camp mates, ending each time with: Was my silence at the bedside of the dying Nazi right or wrong?

After the war, Simon visits the officer's mother living in a bombed-out apartment in Stuttgart. All she has left are the memories of her "good son." Wiesenthal wrestles with whether he should tell her the truth about her son, but leaves saying nothing about the atrocities he took part in. She is allowed to keep her memories.

Simon addresses the reader with this critical question: "You, who have just read this sad and tragic episode in my life, can mentally change places with me and ask yourself the crucial question, 'What would I have done?'"

Simon Wiesehthal died on September 21, 2005 at the age of 96. He and his wife Cyla lost 89 relatives during the Holocaust. Simon helped to bring more than 1100 war criminals to justice, including Eichmann, Stangl, and the Nazi who took Anne Frank from her home and sent her to her death. He has been honored with numerous awards for his work, including "Commander of the Order of Orange" in the Netherlands, "Commendatore della Repubblica" in Italy, a gold medal for humanitarian work by the United States Congress, the Jerusalem Medal in Israel, and sixteen honorary doctorates. The Simon Wiesenthal Center, located in Los Angeles, is named in honor of him.

The Sunflower will force you to think deeply about issues we rarely discuss but which are essential to building and maintaining relationships, with each other and with ourselves.

The title of the book comes from the tall, bright sunflowers placed upon the German soldier's graves who are buried just outside the concentration camp where the Jewish prisoners must pass daily on their way to work projects. Each grave had one "as straight as a soldier on parade . . . . " The tall golden flowers stand in contrast to the unmarked, unidentifiable mass graves, in which most of the prisoners will end up
.
This revised edition was issued in honor of the twentieth anniversary of its publication. It is divided into two sections: an extraordinary request to Simon for forgiveness by a dying 21 old SS man and the 53 responses (ten from the original volume) from prominent theologians, political leaders, writers, jurists, psychiatrists, human rights activists, Holocaust survivors, and victims of attempted genocides in Bosnia, Cambodia, China, and Tibet. Their answers reflect the teachings of their diverse beliefs - Jewish, Christian, Buddhist, Muslim, secular, and agnostic - and remind us that Wiesenthal's question is not limited to events of the past. Certainly there are fundamental lessons that are as essential today as they were 60 years ago.

Who can forgive crimes committed against others asks Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, one of the most significant Jewish theologians of the 20th century.

Are there any similarities between the national guilt faced by the German people for the Holocaust and ours for the institution of slavery and the genocide of Native Americans wonders Martin E. Marty, religious scholar and Lutheran Pastor.

Are followers in committing atrocities as guilty as their leaders inquires Dith Pran, photographer and subject of the film, "The Killing Fields," about Cambodian genocide.

Is silence its own answer if we could but learn to listen to it? Are there questions that are unanswerable queries of the soul, matters too awe-full for human response, too demonic for profound rational resolution poses Hubert Locke, Dean Emeritus, Evans School of Public Policy, University of Washington

By not forgiving do we somehow remain victims wonders Harold Kushner, Rabbi and best-selling author.

One day as part of a detail working at a hospital, Simon it taken by a nurse to see a dying young SS officer named Karl Seidl, who wants forgiveness and absolution from a Jew for the terrible things he had done, in particular an incident in which he murdered 150 Jewish men, women and children who were herded into a small house that was set on fire and when those trying to escape or jump to safety were all shot. Simon has no answer and leaves. He refuses a package of clothing the officer wants him to have telling her to ship it to the deceased's mother.

During the next two years, Wiesenthal shared this story with fellow camp mates, ending each time with: Was my silence at the bedside of the dying Nazi right or wrong?

After the war, Simon visits the officer's mother living in a bombed-out apartment in Stuttgart. All she has left are the memories of her "good son." Wiesenthal wrestles with whether he should tell her the truth about her son, but leaves saying nothing about the atrocities he took part in. She is allowed to keep her memories.

Simon addresses the reader with this critical question: "You, who have just read this sad and tragic episode in my life, can mentally change places with me and ask yourself the crucial question, 'What would I have done?'"

Simon Wiesehthal died on September 21, 2005 at the age of 96. He and his wife Cyla lost 89 relatives during the Holocaust. Simon helped to bring more than 1100 war criminals to justice, including Eichmann, Stangl, and the Nazi who took Anne Frank from her home and sent her to her death. He has been honored with numerous awards for his work, including "Commander of the Order of Orange" in the Netherlands, "Commendatore della Repubblica" in Italy, a gold medal for humanitarian work by the United States Congress, the Jerusalem Medal in Israel, and sixteen honorary doctorates. The Simon Wiesenthal Center, located in Los Angeles, is named in honor of him.

The Sunflower will force you to think deeply about issues we rarely discuss but which are essential to building and maintaining relationships, with each other and with ourselves.

I didn't read this book so much as experience it. Not meant, I think, to be read from cover to cover in a sitting, but to be reflected over - or if you are like me, pondered for a long time after. I thought I could define forgiveness until reading this; I was wrong. it's many things to different people. I guess that I am in the same camp as those writers who subscribed to the idea that it is a rank act to pontificate about what a man in Simon Wiesenthal's position should have done. Most of the contributors transcended "preachiness", however, and have shared their ideas with compassion, anger and insight.

A wonderful, truly worthy read.

This book has touched me and remained with me since I read it my Senior year of high school. It facilitated numerous discussions on the issue of forgiveness--a complex issue that is actually quite simple. It also helped me to face some of my own issues and grudges so that I was finally able to begin understanding true forgiveness and hope.

A sunflower, though it starts out small like all others, becomes tall and bright and visible. A beacon, as it were. The sunflower is the hope that comes with forgiveness.

The book begins with an account of Simon Wiesenthal when he was in a Nazi concentration camp and is confronted with the decision of whether or not to forgive a dying SS soldier. Following Wiesenthal's account are a multitude of response essays by a great variety of people, including The Dalai Lama, Harold Kusuner, Dith Pran, and Robert McAfee Brown.

I highly recommed this book. If you let it, it will change you.

Simon Wiesenthal's death prompted me to read "The Sunflower" for the first time. The book recounts Wiesenthal's haunting encounter with a dying SS soldier. The author was a concentration camp prisoner at the time. The tormented soldier desperately implored absolution for the atrocities he committed. The book passionately explores guilt, penitence, and forgiveness as Wiesenthal invited and printed the commentary from others about what they would have done if they had been in his place.

The story is quite moving but I find it clear that Wiesenthal is telling us more. Sunflowers were used to mark the graves of German soldiers in a nearby cemetery. He imagined the sunflower provided some dignity in death, some vehicle to communicate with the heavens and living world. The prisoner Wiesenthal felt inconsolable that he would ultimately wind up in a mass grave, unmarked and lost for posterity.

I believe that the dying soldier was a metaphorical sunflower within his grasp. Wiesenthal spiritually connected with people and places outside of his present misery though the dying soldier. He now had the power to mark his place, at least for this moment in time, by either dooming the soldier with a verbal rejection or forgiving him. Simon just walked away, with no comment, "just" silence, and threw away the Sunflower that might provide him solace. Simon knew the soldiers guilt and realized his own guilt as a survivor. It was not for him to judge. It became a mission. He would pursue these murderers and bring them to justice. I find this consistent with his post-war work. He sacrificed his engineering career and committed himself to seek out these Nazi criminals. He held their crimes to light in order to allow the world to judge and to recognize that the Holocaust could happen again.

Simon Wiesenthal's death prompted me to read "The Sunflower" for the first time. The book recounts Wiesenthal's haunting encounter with a dying SS soldier. The author was a concentration camp prisoner at the time. The tormented soldier desperately implored absolution for the atrocities he committed. The book passionately explores guilt, penitence, and forgiveness as Wiesenthal invited and printed the commentary from others about what they would have done if they had been in his place.

The story is quite moving but I find it clear that Wiesenthal is telling us more. Sunflowers were used to mark the graves of German soldiers in a nearby cemetery. He imagined the sunflower provided some dignity in death, some vehicle to communicate with the heavens and living world. The prisoner Wiesenthal felt inconsolable that he would ultimately wind up in a mass grave, unmarked and lost for posterity.

I believe that the dying soldier was a metaphorical sunflower within his grasp. Wiesenthal spiritually connected with people and places outside of his present misery though the dying soldier. He now had the power to mark his place, at least for this moment in time, by either dooming the soldier with a verbal rejection or forgiving him. Simon just walked away, with no comment, "just" silence, and threw away the Sunflower that might provide him solace. Simon knew the soldiers guilt and realized his own guilt as a survivor. It was not for him to judge. It became a mission. He would pursue these murderers and bring them to justice. I find this consistent with his post-war work. He sacrificed his engineering career and committed himself to seek out these Nazi criminals. He held their crimes to light in order to allow the world to judge and to recognize that the Holocaust could happen again.

I am writing this review the day after Shimon Wiesenthal died. He was ninety- six years old. Thousands of words have been written about him and his life- task. Certainly one of the major contributions he made was to make people aware of the enormity of the crime which was the Holocaust. After the war many wished to forget, but he out of a strong sense of duty to those who had died, to those who had been murdered and suffered so much , made it his business to make the world remember. And he too made his business to bring to justice those who committed the crime. And as he said many times he did this not only for the victims, but for the future generations of mankind so that such an evil would never come again not only to Jews but to all of humanity.
He personally made a major contribution to bringing to justice more than one thousand war criminals, including Eichmann,Stangl , and the Nazi who took Anne Frank from her home and sent her to her death.
In this work he ponders the question of forgiveness . He is asked by a Nazi who repents of his crimes for forgiveness. And the question the book asks is whether such forgiveness should be given. It seems to me the answer to this question is given by something which Wiesenthal himself wrote. He wrote that while it might be possible to forgive someone for an injury done to oneself, one has no right to forgive for others. It is those who have been murdered who need to be requested forgiveness of. But one and one half - million Jewish children were not given the chance to answer. I think that no one has the right to answer in their name.
Wiesenthal was after the war urged by his wife to take up his profession as architect . He could not . He dedicated himself to the memory of the victims, and to having justice done. He explained this as follows. He said that when the day would come and he would die he would go upstairs. And there he would meet those who had not survived the Shoah. They would crowd around him , and say, " You were lucky, you had life all those years. What did you do with them" And Wiesenthal said, " I would say to them. I did not forget you."
May the memory of this great Jew and human being be a blessing for all of us.

I am writing this review the day after Shimon Wiesenthal died. He was ninety- six years old. Thousands of words have been written about him and his life- task. Certainly one of the major contributions he made was to make people aware of the enormity of the crime which was the Holocaust. After the war many wished to forget, but he out of a strong sense of duty to those who had died, to those who had been murdered and suffered so much , made it his business to make the world remember. And he too made his business to bring to justice those who committed the crime. And as he said many times he did this not only for the victims, but for the future generations of mankind so that such an evil would never come again not only to Jews but to all of humanity.
He personally made a major contribution to bringing to justice more than one thousand war criminals, including Eichmann,Stangl , and the Nazi who took Anne Frank from her home and sent her to her death.
In this work he ponders the question of forgiveness . He is asked by a Nazi who repents of his crimes for forgiveness. And the question the book asks is whether such forgiveness should be given. It seems to me the answer to this question is given by something which Wiesenthal himself wrote. He wrote that while it might be possible to forgive someone for an injury done to oneself, one has no right to forgive for others. It is those who have been murdered who need to be requested forgiveness of. But one and one half - million Jewish children were not given the chance to answer. I think that no one has the right to answer in their name.
Wiesenthal was after the war urged by his wife to take up his profession as architect . He could not . He dedicated himself to the memory of the victims, and to having justice done. He explained this as follows. He said that when the day would come and he would die he would go upstairs. And there he would meet those who had not survived the Shoah. They would crowd around him , and say, " You were lucky, you had life all those years. What did you do with them" And Wiesenthal said, " I would say to them. I did not forget you."
May the memory of this great Jew and human being be a blessing for all of us.

The author has taken me personally to a new level in my life! While reading it, and then for weeks after, I could not tell enough people about it. The Sunflower poses the reader to do a lot of reflecting on self. I have given this book as a gift and it's for no special reason, but to share the gift that Mr. Wiesenthal has given us. Thank you sir for enhancing the quality of my life!

This is a very strange book in many, many ways. A dying S.S. officer asks for 'a Jew' (any Jew concentration camp inmate will do) so that he can ask for forgiveness for killing some other specific Jews in the past while, at the same time, expressing no general guilt for any other crimes he has done as a Nazi Officer. Simon Wiesenthal is picked as that Jew. Mr. Wiesenthal is silent, he walks away after being forced to listen to this confession(?) and this experience troubles him for decades after. I found it strange at first, that he is so troubled. His going to meet the mother of that officer years later I found strange. One may wonder why he formed, with the mother, a complicity to allow this man to be recalled by her as a 'good son'.

Yet, strange is not bad and this book is an excellent book. I found the arguments (from many people) after the story were; enlightening, maddening, brilliant, ridiculous, inspiring, even stupid. In other words they are an excellent display of human reaction and judgement. These reactions form a debate about when and why someone should be forgiven or not forgiven. The question of when a plea for forgiveness is genuine is discussed. Questions are raised about when it is even morally possible to forgive. The reader may walk away ambivalent regarding the conclusions the facts have led to. There is an element of uncertainty. The book causes the reader to think. Even if the reader's initial decision remains from beginning to the last page, there may be elements discussed that make that decision less comfortable after all. And although the soldier's plea remains bizarre, that Mr. Wiesenthal remains troubled becomes understandable.

I recently picked up this book because I recognized the name of famed nazi-hunter Simon Wiesenthal. The Jews suffered terribly under Pharaoh during the days of Moses and under Hitler during World War II. The tale of a nazi soldier asking a Jew - enslaved in a concentration camp - to forgive him for his sins is incredible. To ask forgiveness of one person as a representative of his people is quite a believable notion. Haven't US Presidents apologized for slavery, internment camps, etc in the name of the citizens of the United States??
I liked the fact that Simon's conscience bothered him after he left the soldier's bedside once he heard his terrible tale. I enjoyed his philosophical talks with his fellow prisoners as well as the trip he took to the soldier's mothers house after the war. This was a well-written book and it should be required reading in all high schools.

What is Wiesenthal's problem? Is he afraid that God will be mad at him if he made a mistake in deciding whether to forgive or not forgive this guy; that maybe God won't forgive him if he guessed wrong about the moral high road? What's the big deal? Hold a pillow over the Nazi's nose, hum to yourself "hotzi totzi, one less nazi", and sob as you tell the nurse "he died right in my arms". What's the big deal? Whatever you do, or don't do, Simon, God will probably understand, if only on account of the circumstances (and if He doesn't, hell with Him too!)

Which makes me wonder, WWJD? (What Would Jesus Do? HE, too, was Jewish, you know, so cross-check the Torah for guidance.)

And anyway, where does Wiesenthal get the notion that he could, under any circumstances, forgive anybody for anything (short of an offense against him personally)? True, the Nazi did ask him for forgiveness, but it seems as if Wiesenthal actually considered that granting it was a potential course of action. Who does Wiesenthal think he is? Where does he get such powers? He has no more power to forgive the Nazi than I have. It's not even an option.

Accordingly, this situation does not raise any important moral questions. You, Simon, never had and never will have the power to grant absolution. Get over it.

And, while we're talking about this book, let's not forget all those blowhards with their mindless comments on this "important moral question." The one I liked best was the moron who equates "polluters of the earth" with the Nazis. What a waste of paper, and trees. Albert Speer was at least smarmy enough to thank Wiesenthal for making his own burden of guilt lighter to bear. Good job, Simon.

Finally, and at least one commentator seems to share my suspicions (calling the tale a "fable"), I have to say that I doubt the veracity of the underlying story. It just doesn't ring true. While the situation does present an "interesting challenge", meriting, no doubt, eons of scholarly debate, I just find it hard to believe that it happened quite the way Wiesenthal relates it. I'm sure that something happened. But I'm just not sure how much of Wiesenthal's tale is true and how much is "well, what if it had happened this way?"

Sorry. I hope he'll forgive me if I'm wrong, but others, with much less than genocide on the front burner, have resorted to 'literary license' that borders on fabrication. "Based on true events" might have made me feel more comfortable.

But,what the hell, go ahead and buy the book. It'll give you something to talk about so your friends won't think you're boring.

simon wiesenthal is a brilliant, haunted writer who conveys chillingly the perceived moral dilemma he faced as a dying SS officer begged him for forgiveness for his crimes againt the jewish people during the second world war. while it seems obvious to this reader that the proper response would have been a prompt "rot in hell", it does give more than enough food for thought to anyone who realizes the enormity of the holocaust's unpleasant moral implications for all philosophers and sociologists who endeavor to know the actual nature of man as opposed to wishful thinking a la rousseau or kant. wiesenthal's accomplishments and inspiring life's work (much like frankl's) since his horrendous experience as one of the many victims of this unbelievable historical atrocity gives hope to all students of the human condition even in the shadow of auschwitz and unspeakable evil. a treasure of a book.

I relish this volume for the story that Simon Wiesenthal shares of his Holocaust experiences.

Much of his 98-page account covers his unwilling audience with a dying SS man named Karl who had asked the nun on duty to fetch a Jewish prisoner, any Jewish prisoner. He did not tell her why. Once Wiesenthal entered, Karl began a long tale of how he had come to this place, what he had done and why he wanted forgiveness. What Karl said and how Wiesenthal reacted are riveting. Years later, the latter traveled to Stuttgart to meet Karl's mother, yet did not tell her what he had learned about her son. I could have done no better in his place.

I found the details surrounding his encounter equally riveting. One day, Wiesenthal was ordered to join a concentration camp work detail that hiked into the town of Lemberg, where he had attended Technical High School in Sapiehy Street. By coincidence, the guards brought the enslaved men through the streets he had once walked as a free young man, to the very building where he had attended school. As he walked, he thought of events, both recent ones in the camp and more distant events in Lemberg and at his school. He recounts them all.

Readers also learn of Wiesenthal's friends Arthur and Josek, neither of whom survived, who comforted and consoled one another and him, talking philosophically under the most inhuman circumstances in order to maintain their humanity.

The reactions of various famed writers, religious leaders and others are less important. Some are nevertheless compelling by virtue of their authorship or unique content. These include replies by Holocaust survivors Jean Amery, Moshe Bejske, Abraham Joshua Heschel, Primo Levi and Nechana Tec, two of whom later committed suicide, and Rabbi Lawrence Kushner. I was especially struck by Theologian Franklin H. Littell's call for increased awareness "of the earnest nature of the choice between good and evil, between innocence and guilt."

This book has been important for 25 years. In the wake of Sept. 11, 2001 it carries increased weight. Alyssa A. Lappen

This is a book I was assigned to read for my freshman Foundations of Inquiry class in college. By the end, I was so greatful that I had the opportunity to read this book. It is set during the Holocaust in Nazi Germany. The narrator, who is a Jew is asked forgiveness by an SS soldier. The narrator is left wondering what he should do: Forgive the soldier for what has been done to the Jews or decide not to forgive him. You are left with the question, "what would you do." It definitely makes you wonder what you would do in the situation of the narrator. Powerful!

The Sunflower tells the story of a dying Nazi soldier who seeks out Simon Wiesenthal for forgiveness for his crimes against the Jews so he can die in peace. The story is based on fact from Wiesenthals life. Many famous people wrote essays, which are printed in the back of the book, arguing wether to forgive him or not. But the true value of the book lies in the question what you would do if you were in the same situation.