It is estimated that between 1943 and 1945 more than 80,000 people crossed the Pyrenees fleeing Nazism. The people of the border villages who risked their lives to help these refugees are the focus of the Border, the drama that Judith Colell It premieres this Friday in cinemas. With a very solid cast led by Miki Esparbé, Maria Rodríguez Soto, Asier Etxeandia and Bruna Cusí, the film represents, in a way, Colell's return to Catalan cinema afterElisa K (2010).

"Finally, this nightmare of hunger and death is over." Paul Simon wrote his first uncensored letter on April 12, 1945, the day after being liberated from the Buchenwald concentration camp, located on the Ettersberg hill near Weimar in central Nazi Germany. "You cannot imagine what we have seen in this hell; naturally, I could not let you know in my previous letters," he detailed to his wife, Louise, his Chouquette tanto aiméeAlong with this letter, Simon also sent her some sketches, rescued from his memory, depicting scenes from a horrific everyday life. A cartload of corpses, a flood of desperately starving people, a man with no will to see tomorrow. Louise hid them in an old cloth-covered folder until her death on October 9, 2006, in a nursing home in Saint-Hippolyte-du-Fort (Gard). "How many friends will never see France again? How many died in my arms…?" Simon lamented.

A love story between two very different women that erupts in the summer of 1961 in an isolated house in the Netherlands. Isabel is a repressed, Calvinist woman, and Eva is Jewish, extroverted, and dresses flashy. These are enough elements to build an intrigue, but Yael van der Wouden's (Tel-Aviv, 1987) debut fiction novel goes much further: it speaks of desire and sex, but also of the legacy of history and what happens when we are complicit with the perpetrators. Writers such as Maggie O'Farrell and Tracy Chevalier have praised The guardian, which won the Women's Prize and was shortlisted for the Booker Prize. Van der Wouden, who has lived in the Netherlands since she was ten, is now writing a new novel about a woman seeking a divorce in 1929. The guardian It is published by Amsterdam in Catalan, translated by Anna Carreras, and by Salamadra in Spanish.

This year 2025, the 80th anniversary of the liberation of the Nazi campsThe anniversary of the end of the Second World War and, with it, the end of one of the cruelest episodes in human history. The dehumanization and the planned, industrial murder of millions of people in the concentration and extermination camps of the Third Reich. An event that has since unhinged humanity's conscience, called into question its very essence, and, as Elie Wiesel, a survivor of Auschwitz and Buchenwald, aptly put it, "after Auschwitz, the world was never the same again."

It's hard to accept frustration at the ongoing spectacle of death and terror in Gaza. Thousands of people die every day, victims of the uncontrolled violence of Benjamin Netanyahu's Israeli regime. The cries of despair, the bombings, the snipers targeting food lines, the bodies destroyed by explosions or turned into specters, into ghosts, by hunger. Images of genocide continue to unfold while the international community watches helplessly, unable to stop the horror.

The memory of pain runs through generations. The fact that your grandfather was whipped by Franco's Moorish Guard makes your grandchildren feel a certain sensation in their backs, just as you notice the glasses you had, like a headband, on your head when you take them off.

During World War II, a poor lumberjack adopts a Jewish girl who has just been thrown by her father from the train deporting the entire family to Auschwitz. Michel Hazanavicius's first animated film strives to strike a precarious balance between the horror of what it's depicting and the fairy-tale tone of the story, aiming to vindicate love and solidarity as intrinsically human qualities. As is typical in the director's work, The artist, is a film with better intentions than results. Despite expressive and deliberately pumiceous 2D animation and some memorable characters (the disfigured-faced ex-soldier who takes in the mother and child), the film cannot avoid, especially in the final stretch, indulging in a sentimentality underscored by Alexandre Desplat's ever-present score.

After the 20th century, the Holocaust and apartheid, what ethical context does the tragedy of Gaza place us in? Is there a before and after? The philosophers Victoria Camps—under the title Gaza, an extermination camp– and Santiago Alba Rico –A simple question of scale?– answer the questions.

The title's question seems little less than rhetorical. At least, if one considers the endless images and dramatic witnesses that, from October 7, 2023, They are coming from Gaza. Limitless destruction, indiscriminate bombing of the civilian population resulting in the murder of children, women, men, and the elderly; humiliation of non-combatant Hamas prisoners—there have also been scenes of humiliation of the freed Israeli hostages—who are being used as human shields, a weapon of war… Incalculable devastation; more than 53,000 Gazans have officially died, and in all likelihood thousands more. The population of the Strip will take decades to recover, if it survives at all.

The oldest Holocaust survivor, Rose Girone, died in New York on Monday at the age of 113. Girone was living in Breslau, now Wroclaw, Poland, in 1937 when the Nazis took her husband to the Buchenwald concentration camp. She was eight months pregnant at the time. As she explained in later interviews, she heard one officer say to another: "Let's take the wife too," but the other replied: "She's pregnant, let's leave her alone."

Italian Jewish writer Edith Bruck, 90, a survivor of the Auschwitz extermination camp, has refused an award from Anzio after learning that the Italian city holds honorary citizenship for fascist dictator Benito Mussolini. "I appreciate it, but I cannot accept the Peace Prize where active nostalgia for the most shameful era ferments, indelible for those who lived through it", Bruck wrote in an open letter to the mayor of Anzio, Candido de Angelis, of the Lega.