There are a few books out there that I’ve read multiple times that will always hold a profound impact. One of those books is Art Spiegelman’s Maus.

I first read this graphic novel for my America in the World history course in college, and over the years have returned to it for its tragic, beautiful, layered story. It’s the true story of Spiegelman’s own father, Vladek, a Holocaust survivor. Told on a dual timeline, we flip back and forth between WWII-era Europe and 1980s America, where Art is visiting his father (with whom he has a strained relationship) to record his story.

By the time Art begins these interviews, Vladek has already endured unbearable loss. His wife, Anja – another survivor – took her own life years earlier. His first son, Richieu, was killed during the war. These absences haunt the narrative just as much as the camps themselves. Vladek’s trauma is worn on his sleeve, revealing the self-preservation traits he developed during captivity in order to survive. Beneath his gruff, frugal exterior, you can see the deep pain he has carried to make it this far.

As he relays his story in full to his son, Art takes note of every detail, preserving not only the history of his family but the fragile, complicated bond between them.

I love the symbolic imagery Spiegelman chooses to use: Jews are depicted as mice, Germans as cats, Americans as dogs, French as frogs, and Poles as pigs. Each animal represents a different culture or national identity and the complex roles they played during the war. Every detail feels intentional and deeply creative.

This story is a very heavy one (naturally, any account of survival under these circumstances would be), but it is so worth the read for the substance it contains. In graphic novel form, Spiegelman’s stark black-and-white illustrations offer powerful visuals to accompany the narrative, creating a unique reading experience that resonates with younger and older audiences alike.

This is a story of survival in the face of true evil, and it is horrifying to remember that this happened in our real world less than 100 years ago. Now more than ever, it feels vital to elevate the voices of those who survived the Holocaust. Soon, there will be no living survivors left, and all that will remain are accounts like this one – carefully preserved and entirely human.

I consider this a deeply important read, and I strongly urge you to crack open a copy if you haven’t yet.