WHEN Saul Rubinek told his parents he wanted to write a book about their experiences in Poland during and after the Second World War, their reaction was less than enthusiastic. "Everyone knows about the war," they said. "Who needs more stories about it?" Although Rubinek, a respected Canadian actor, insists his book, So Many Miracles, is about his parents and not about the war, their wartime experiences provide the backdrop for much of the story and are ultimately what set it in motion.

Based on 10 years of interviews with his parents, Israel and Frania, Rubinek's book traces their lives between 1936 and 1948 ? from the year they met until the year the author was born. Most of the memoir centres on the hardships and humiliation the couple suffered after the Nazis invaded Poland in September, 1939. As Jews, the Rubineks suddenly found their lives turned upside down. Forced to wear armbands with a yellow Star of David to identify themselves, they were no longer permitted to walk the main streets. When an escapee from one of the concentration camps warned them of the even greater horrors that lay ahead, they ? like many people at the time ? dismissed the man as crazy. "He swore the Nazis burned people, killed them. Nobody believed him. What's he talking. He's nuts."

But even for those lucky enough to escape the death camps, life was no picnic. The Poles back home?were no better. Israel, in one of the more disturbing episodes in the book, recalls the time a group of Poles came into the store where he was working and ran off with some of the merchandise. "You're going to die just the same, what do you need it for?" they chided him.

But Israel and his wife did not die ?nor did they give up hope. When the Russians finally arrived to liberate Poland in 1945, the Rubineks remember going out at night and listening to the bombardment by putting their ears to the ground. Even if the bombs were dropped several hundred miles away, they said they could hear the echoes "just like the greatest, nicest music." 'Me Rubineks' unflagging optimism and love for each other is evident on every page of their memoir and serves as a powerful contrast to the horrors of war.

However, the book is not without its shortcomings. The first is its tone. Because the author allows his parents to tell their story in their own words ?the taped interviews on which the book is based were transcribed directly, with only minor changes in grammar, he says ? the book has a simplicity that is both refreshing and, at times, annoying. Take, for example, Frania's reasons for marrying her husband: "I saw handsomer men, but I saw he had such a heart of gold and that's why I felt in love, that's all." Okay, case closed. Moreover, hardly a page goes by without one of the Rubineks beginning a thought with "I'll never forget. . ." The context hardly seems to matter. They could be commenting on the day the Nazis arrived and burned down their house or on a favourite childhood table?cIoth.

A similar kind of oversimplification also mars two other wartime memoirs on the same subject. Like the Rubinek book, Benjamin Mandelkern's Escape from the Nazis began with an attempt to satisfy his children's curiosity about his life story. And what a story! Captured by the Nazis when he was still in his early twenties, Mandelkern managed to escape almost certain death by using his pocketknife to cut through the door of a train carrying him to Treblinka. By contrast, Toby Klodawski Flam, in her memoir, Toby.?. Her Journey from Lodz to Samarkand (and Beyond), tells how ?one step ahead of the Nazis ? she was able to flee to Russia where she worked as a wardrobe mistress for a travelling theatre company. Like the Rubineks, who also eventually emigrated to Canada, Mandelkem and Flam write that life as they knew it was never the same after the Nazis. And they also suggest that it was a miracle they were not only able to escape the slaughter that. killed six million other Jews, but lived to, write about it.

However, while their exploits will lift the reader's spirits and are tributes to the resilience of the human spirit, the first?time authors' descriptions ultimately lack depth and a hard edge. In the end, these memoirs will likely be remembered more for the tale than for the telling.

WHEN Saul Rubinek told his parents he wanted to write a book about their experiences in Poland during and after the Second World War, their reaction was less than enthusiastic. "Everyone knows about the war," they said. "Who needs more stories about it?" Although Rubinek, a respected Canadian actor, insists his book, So Many Miracles, is about his parents and not about the war, their wartime experiences provide the backdrop for much of the story and are ultimately what set it in motion.

Based on 10 years of interviews with his parents, Israel and Frania, Rubinek's book traces their lives between 1936 and 1948 ? from the year they met until the year the author was born. Most of the memoir centres on the hardships and humiliation the couple suffered after the Nazis invaded Poland in September, 1939. As Jews, the Rubineks suddenly found their lives turned upside down. Forced to wear armbands with a yellow Star of David to identify themselves, they were no longer permitted to walk the main streets. When an escapee from one of the concentration camps warned them of the even greater horrors that lay ahead, they ? like many people at the time ? dismissed the man as crazy. "He swore the Nazis burned people, killed them. Nobody believed him. What's he talking. He's nuts."

But even for those lucky enough to escape the death camps, life was no picnic. The Poles back home?were no better. Israel, in one of the more disturbing episodes in the book, recalls the time a group of Poles came into the store where he was working and ran off with some of the merchandise. "You're going to die just the same, what do you need it for?" they chided him.

But Israel and his wife did not die ?nor did they give up hope. When the Russians finally arrived to liberate Poland in 1945, the Rubineks remember going out at night and listening to the bombardment by putting their ears to the ground. Even if the bombs were dropped several hundred miles away, they said they could hear the echoes "just like the greatest, nicest music." 'Me Rubineks' unflagging optimism and love for each other is evident on every page of their memoir and serves as a powerful contrast to the horrors of war.

However, the book is not without its shortcomings. The first is its tone. Because the author allows his parents to tell their story in their own words ?the taped interviews on which the book is based were transcribed directly, with only minor changes in grammar, he says ? the book has a simplicity that is both refreshing and, at times, annoying. Take, for example, Frania's reasons for marrying her husband: "I saw handsomer men, but I saw he had such a heart of gold and that's why I felt in love, that's all." Okay, case closed. Moreover, hardly a page goes by without one of the Rubineks beginning a thought with "I'll never forget. . ." The context hardly seems to matter. They could be commenting on the day the Nazis arrived and burned down their house or on a favourite childhood table?cIoth.

A similar kind of oversimplification also mars two other wartime memoirs on the same subject. Like the Rubinek book, Benjamin Mandelkern's Escape from the Nazis began with an attempt to satisfy his children's curiosity about his life story. And what a story! Captured by the Nazis when he was still in his early twenties, Mandelkern managed to escape almost certain death by using his pocketknife to cut through the door of a train carrying him to Treblinka. By contrast, Toby Klodawski Flam, in her memoir, Toby.?. Her Journey from Lodz to Samarkand (and Beyond), tells how ?one step ahead of the Nazis ? she was able to flee to Russia where she worked as a wardrobe mistress for a travelling theatre company. Like the Rubineks, who also eventually emigrated to Canada, Mandelkem and Flam write that life as they knew it was never the same after the Nazis. And they also suggest that it was a miracle they were not only able to escape the slaughter that. killed six million other Jews, but lived to, write about it.

However, while their exploits will lift the reader's spirits and are tributes to the resilience of the human spirit, the first?time authors' descriptions ultimately lack depth and a hard edge. In the end, these memoirs will likely be remembered more for the tale than for the telling.