Ashes in the snow


Title: Ashes in the Snow

Author: Rota Septise

Translator: Monira Jian Tabasi

Publisher: Azarmidakht

Subject: English teen stories

Age category: Adolescent

Number of pages: 324

Language: Farsi

Categories: ,


Ashes in the Snow, written by Rota Septise, was published in the United States in 2011. The book quickly made the New York Times bestseller list.

The original name of this book was “Ashes in the Snow” (among the shades of gray), which became known and published as “Ashes in the Snow” after a film based on the same book was made in Iran.

The Book of Ashes in the Snow has been one of the New York Times best-selling novels. This book has been published by Azarmidokht Publishing House.

About the book Ashes in the Snow:
The story of this book has a historical aspect because it takes place in a controversial and suffocating atmosphere of the former Soviet Union. During the Soviet invasion of Lithuania in 1941, a story is told about a broken family.

Lina is a member of this family in the story of the book “Ashes in the Snow” and she is only fifteen years old. She is separated from her father and is sent to a Libyan labor camp with her mother and brother. Kashaneh experiences.

In parallel with these bitter moments, Lina finds indescribable peace in her painting art, which she then decides to use this ability as a bridge between herself and her father in prison.

Rota Septiez, author of Ash in the Snow:
Rota Septiza is a Lithuanian writer who now lives in the United States. Writing the same forgotten events for the audience One of the points that distinguishes Rota Septiez from other writers is that she writes in a historical style that inspires her stories from the heart of historical events.

In part of the book Ashes in the Snow we read:
About four hours passed. We sat in the dark in front of the hospital and were not allowed to get out of the truck. Other trucks were passing by. Some of them were full of people surrounded by large nets. A man looked at his watch and said to my mother that it was almost morning, it was almost three in the morning.

On the back cover of the book Ash in the Snow we read:

Is it harder to die or to be a living person?
I was a sixteen year old girl in Siberia.
I knew this, and I had no doubt that I wanted to live. I wanted to see my brother grow up. I wanted to return to Lithuania again. I look at Yvana and smell the lilies of the valleys that the breeze brings to my room from under the window.
In Siberia there were two possibilities, success in the sense of survival and failure in the sense of death.

Start the book Ashes in the Snow:
They took me with them while I was wearing a blouse and sleeping pants.
When I think about the past, I realize that there was already evidence that it happened. That night all the family photos were burned in the heater. My mother sewed silver and her precious jewelry in her coat, and my father returned home from work.

My younger brother Jonas was asking about this, I asked some questions too, but maybe I was trying to ignore the evidence. Only later did I find out that my parents wanted us all to run away together, but we did not manage to escape.
We were arrested.
On June 14, 1991, I was wearing my pajamas and writing a letter to my cousin, Joanna, behind my desk. I opened my notebook and the solid that my aunt gave me on my fifteenth birthday.
The evening breeze blew in through the open window of the room and made the curtain dance. I could smell the lily of the valley that my mother and I planted two years ago. Dear Yuan.

It was not the sound of knocking on the door, but the sound of punching the door that shocked me. Someone punches you at the entrance. No one went to the door to open the door. I got up from behind the table and went to the hallway. My mother next to the wall behind the board …..

In part of the book Ashes in the Snow we read:
Autumn has arrived. The agents became more strict. If we stumbled too much, the diet would be reduced, I would have lost so much weight that my mother could measure around my arm with her thumb and middle finger. My tears were dry. My body was full of tears, but my eyes were dry and burning.

It was hard to imagine that war was raging somewhere in Europe. We ourselves were engaged in a war and waited for the guards to pick the next victim and throw us into another ball. They enjoyed kicking and beating us on the farm. One morning, an old man was caught eating a beet.
The guard pulled out his front teeth with crimped wire. They made us watch this scene. One night they woke us up to sign our 25-year sentence. We had learned to sit at Kormov’s table and rest with our eyes open. As I sat in front of the officers, I imagined that I had escaped.

The art teacher said that if you take a deep breath and visualize something in your mind, you can see and feel it. I was able to use this experience while sitting in front of the agents.

As we sat in silence, I thought about my rusty dreams. My main goal was to immerse myself in my hopes and penetrate to the depths of my heart’s desires. Comorf thought he was torturing us. But we were alone with ourselves, and thus we became stronger.
But not everyone was silent. Some became restless and tired and eventually gave up.

“Traitors,” said Mrs. Gary Bass under her breath. People were arguing about who signed the documents. The first night someone signed, I got angry.
The mother said she was sorry for the person who lost her identity. I could not feel sorry for such people. It was incomprehensible to me.
Every morning, on my way to the farm, I would predict who the next person would sign.

Their faces indicated surrender. My mother saw this too. He talked to them while working on the farm and tried to lift their spirits. Sometimes it worked. Many things were ineffective. One night I painted a picture of the people who had signed it and wrote about how the officers forced them to surrender.
The atrocities of the officers strengthened my defensiveness. Why did I have to surrender to people who spat in my face and tortured me every day? What would I have left if I lost my self-esteem? I was thinking, what would happen if we were the only ones who did not sign the documents?

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