I was sitting in the waiting room of my lymphedema practitioner yesterday, reading ‘The tattooist of Auschwitz’. When she called me to come in, she asked what I was reading. When I told her, she said “That’s hilarious”. We established that she was referring, not to the book itself, but to the fact that she was reading it too. (We are reading it for our respective book groups.)

Why was I seeing a lymphedema practitioner? In recent weeks I have had a bit of swelling in the feet and ankles. This is quite often found in people who have had radiation treatment, chemotherapy, or lymph nodes removed. (Of course, I have had the trifecta.) The weather has been warm and pretty humid, which tends to make this condition worse. Anyway, I now have a lymphedema practitioner among the team keeping me in a well state. (Who knew that such specialised people existed?) Treatment involves wearing knee high compression socks, doing some lymphatic drainage (i.e. massage), and keeping the limbs elevated where possible. Walking (and exercise generally) is fine. Long periods of sitting with feet on the floor, and standing around, are not recommended.

Anyway, things are definitely headed in the right direction. (This is based on re-measurements of my feet and ankles.) Apart from this small inconvenience — with which there is no pain — I am still in remission and feeling fine. The last scan came up clear, PSA still undetectable, so I am continuing with the hormone treatment. (I get another implant every three months.)

Returning to ‘The tattooist of Auschwitz’; when someone in my book group said they would like to read it, I knew nothing about it. Judging from the title, it didn’t sound like a terribly cheery read. I had just suggested ‘The narrow road to the deep North’, however, so I didn’t feel entitled to object to it on those grounds. I’m glad I didn’t — I am enjoying it more and more the further I get through it.

One reason is that, in spite of being set in Birkenau prison camp, the killings and assaults it records are never rendered very graphically. So although it is clear what is going on, it never descends into Holocaust porn. Another is the style, which is clean and unadorned, and propels the narrative efficiently. Doubtless Heather Morris realised that, with a story like this, no flourishes or literary devices were required. If so, she made the right decision. For such a book, it is quite a page turner. The steadiness of the narrative pulse, and the unbelievable ingenuity of the characters in just staying alive, makes you believe that they will get out. (After all, someone survived to tell her the story, right?)

I found this story, of people showing such resilience in unimaginable circumstances, instructive after the Christchurch killings. Everyone will react differently to this event. I have been trying to find a justification for being concerned with, and going on writing about, mundane things. Of course — and I apologise for the cliché — life must go on. Cars must be serviced, bills paid, meals cooked, washing washed. These things don’t stop just because some total bastard has rent the fabric of so many lives.

Of course people in Christchurch are not just getting on with their lives, but are showing great resilience and compassion as well. If the alleged killer was trying to inspire hatred and rejection of Muslims, he has evidently failed. So many people went along to mosques and Islamic museums last Sunday — here and, no doubt, all over Australia and New Zealand — to express their sorrow for these murders. There has also been tremendous support for the right of Muslims to practice their religion.

Taking a closer look at this: we might assume (as I did) that freedom of religion is guaranteed under Australia’s constitution. This actually isn’t so. Australia has no bill of rights guaranteeing the right to practice a particular religion. There is a number of  implied rights in the Commonwealth constitution; these rights are generally taken to include religious practice. However, this implied right only applies in the Commonwealth jurisdiction. So the states and territories are theoretically free to make laws restricting the practice of a particular religion within their jurisdiction. (See the interim report of the 2016  Inquiry into the status of the human right to freedom of religion or belief (Australia. Parliament. Joint Standing Committee on Foreign Affairs and Trade)). 

If these events brought about a bill of rights, or other instrument giving proper protection for freedom of religion, it would not be worth the lives lost. But it would be something positive.