Herself
Hortense Calisher
1972
Apples. That’s what New Yorkers of the 1930s remember. Apples of the Hesperides, neatly stalled on corner after corner, sold on the last trembling line of decency by men who were unwilling to beg. Sometimes a man had only two. We bought them, our Cézannes-to-be, with the nickel carfare home, and didn’t know it was our education we were bringing…
Please login or register for free access to Posen Library
Already have an account?
You may also like
Old Stock
Hester sat down quietly next to her mother, whose sewing went on and on, a mild substitute for conversation. For a while, Hester watched the long, important-looking shadows that encroached upon the…
Religion Is an Obstacle to the Five-Year Plan
This poster, designed by an unknown artist, presents in a clear, graphic manner the goal of the Soviet campaign to eradicate religious life. The texts in Yiddish emphasize the need to bring an end to…
Awake, my heart, from your slumber!
A poem that I, Sa‘adia Longo, wrote to an important and wealthy man from Nicopolis, who came here to Salonika to marry a woman. I was not able to participate in his celebration because I was…