Suicide is a tragedy, not an argument

Marie Sophie Hingst was a promising young woman. Born in Germany, she received a doctorate in history from Trinity College Dublin. Her blog, “Read On, My Dear, Read On”, detailed the history of her own family. Several of her relatives had been murdered in the Holocaust, but her grandparents survived. She wrenchingly described how every year, on the anniversary of Kristallnacht, they would sit in the darkness, waiting for all those relatives — 22, to be exact — who never came home. She kept in her pocket the yellow star which her grandmother had worn at Auschwitz. Hingst’s family was also blighted by a more recent tragedy: her mother, Rachel, had committed suicide. Hingst herself, however, led an altruistic life. She spent some time working at a hospital in an Indian slum. In Germany she ra