The Righteous. A Story of the Quiet Heroism of World War II

This book is about a person who managed to preserve his humanity where it seemed there was no room left for it. In his memoirs “Is This a Man?” Primo Levi confessed: “I’m sure it was Lorenzo to whom I owe the fact that I remained alive.” But who was this Lorenzo whom he spoke of with such gratitude?

Lorenzo Perrone was a poor stone mason with little ability to read or write—quick-tempered, simple. He was on the other side of the barbed wire at Auschwitz and, over the course of half a year, every day he brought Primo Levi a pot of soup to the prisoner. His help was not only an act of compassion—it became proof that even in a death camp during World War II a person can manage not to lose dignity and compassion.

This book aims to return the name to someone who didn’t seek recognition and didn’t think about posterity’s memory—but proved worthy of it. This is Lorenzo’s biography: of a quiet, unremarkable, not very talkative man whose inner strength makes him truly great. A story that shows how big deeds do not always require loud words.

Who this book is for
For readers of “The Choice” and “The Gift.”
For those who need support, comfort, and hope.
For those who feel close to inspiring stories in the spirit of Viktor Frankl, “The Diary of Anne Frank,” and “The Tattooist of Auschwitz.”
For those who want to know more about the man who saved Primo Levi.

From the author
How many more such Lorenzos were there—people about whom not a single line has been preserved? How many workers and craftsmen on the outskirts of “Switzerland” helped survive those few—one, a handful, dozens, hundreds? And finally, the question one cannot shrug off: if there had been more people like Lorenzo, could a place like Auschwitz have ever existed?

In the first publication about Lorenzo that appeared half a century ago, it was said that it would be “very good” to tell his story. I would add: it is necessary and important—to tell about those who remained among the righteous, without trying to be first and without benefiting from it. This must be done every day, because Lorenzo left us the main thing— the ability to believe in people.