Maus: My Father and I

I remember, when I was younger--I think that I was in 9th grade--my father was driving me and my sister to a destination that I have forgotten. While he was driving, he explained the importance of a family’s history and began to narrate our family’s past to me and my sister. Being the annoying, stupid rebellious teenager that I was, I was uninterested. Writing this post, I realize how much I regret being so annoying and stupid.

Reading Maus and relating it to my own family’s history, I see how I am similar to pre-MausArt Spiegelman. Although my parents and I aren’t separated by a terrible and horrifying event like the Holocaust, Spiegelman and I are still similar in the way that we are separated from our parents by the past itself. The prompt for this blog post has helped me to realize that I don’t know anything about my father or my mother beyond the bare essentials. There are the very important elements of their past with which I am familiar, but do I actually know them? Yes, they left South Korea to raise me and my sister in America. Yes, my parents used to live in Georgia and then moved to Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Yes, my parents used to own a doughnut shop on Jones Creek Road and closed it when my father earned his degrees. However, I remember being completely caught by surprise when my family visited California while I was in high school. My father had extensive knowledge of San Francisco, and, unable to withhold my curiosity, I wanted to know how he was so familiar with a place that was so complicated and foreign to me. It wasn’t until that visit to California, which was taken when I was--I think--in tenth grade, that I learned that my father used to live in San Francisco! I think of that moment, of that suddenly new dimension to my father, as the perfect example to how I, Raymond Jeong, don’t know shit about Minseon Jeong as Art Spiegelman doesn’t know anything about Vladek Spiegelman.

Reading Maus with my regret in perspective, I was actually angered by Art Spiegelman’s treatment of Vladek. Perhaps, to other readers, Spiegelman is simply displaying his annoyance with his father that was developed during his childhood. However, I was pissed at Art’s constant annoyance with Vladek. Spiegelman didn’t appear to be a person who was truly concerned for his father. He appeared to be someone who was concerned with only recording his father’s story for the sake of his graphic novel. I expected that, as Art’s interaction with Vladek progressed, Art would become much more sympathetic and appreciative of his father. However, in Maus II, where Vladek tries to give food to Art, the following conversation takes place:

Vladek: So, fine. I can pack the fruitcake in with the cereal for you to take home.

Art: Look. We don’t want any, ok? Just forget it!

Vladek: I cannot forget it... Ever since Hitler I don’t like to throw out even a crumb.

Art: Then just save the damn Special K, in case Hitler ever comes back!

Does the previous conversation actually reflect a son who is truly concerned for his father? I understood that the graphic novel itself is Art’s tribute to his father, but, seeing how Art interacted with his father, I was very tempted to scream at him, saying, “Just take the damn Special K! Don’t you understand what he’s been through?” If I were Art, I would appreciate every moment with Vladek as I am deepened in his narrative. If I were Art, I wouldn’t let my past attitude with Vladek affect how I treat him during his telling of the past. I wish that I knew more about my father, and, although my father and I have a relationship that is very different from Art and Vladek's, I am sure that learning my father’s past would dramatically change my attitude toward him.

Or... would it?

Writing this post, I am reminded of a conversation that I had with a fellow Donner-mate during this past summer in our apartment at Mirrielees. For some reason, he and I began to discuss our families. At the end of telling my parents’ stories to him, I admitted that I barely know my parents’ past and assumed that I know little about my parents. His response to my claims surprised me. He said that knowing little about my parents’ past doesn’t mean that I don’t know them. In fact, knowing who my parents were in the past is almost irrelevant to how I currently interact with them. Although I felt angry at Art, that conversation has helped me to change the conclusion that I wanted to reach in this post because I realize that Art doesn’t have to act differently toward his father. How he interacts with Vladek in the present (or, rather, the present in Maus) doesn’t have to be influenced by Vladek’s experience in the Holocaust. Art can never truly relate to his father with that experience. Art can use only his own life to relate to his father. He cannot change his attitude toward Vladek just by learning his past. Art knows his father only during the time after the Holocaust, and it is only during that time in Vladek’s life can Art improve his relationship with his father.

Maus has helped me to realize that I know little about my father's past. Relating it to my own family's past, I felt angry at Art for how he treated his father as the story of his experience during the Holocaust unfolded. However, understanding that acquiring knowledge of Vladek's past shouldn't affect how Art interacts with his father, I know that asking my father about his past will help me to become closer to him, without necessarily changing my attitude toward him. It is my duty to depend not only on the past but also on the present if I want to improve my relationship with my father.