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When breakfast was over, I had to go to the synagogue, rain or shine, for it was Saturday morning. I used to sit next to Bernard and Simon. We would wear our skull caps and whisper to each other…
A medieval rabbi barely escapes from a blood libel accusation at his own Seder table in this prescient nineteenth-century story by the famous German Romantic poet Heinrich Heine.
A moment of agonized suspense and Alvar Rodriguez stood at the window, the bar he had removed in his hand. He let down the string, to which Hassan’s now trembling hands secured the ladder and drew it…
With every stone that was set in the new barn, another drop of life seemed to ebb from the wife of the randar or tavern keeper. When she looked out at the building, she often said that she would not…
Behind him, a short distance to the right, he had noticed a stranger—give a skeleton a couple of pounds—loitering near a bronze statue on a stone pedestal of the heavy-dugged Etruscan wolf suckling…
The Cabalist:Sexton, light the candles. [The Sexton lights each man’s candle. The Cabalist advances slowly to The Girl, who stands slackly, her body making small occasional jerking movements…
Murray:People fall into two distinct categories. Miss Markowitz; people who like delicatessen, and people who don’t like delicatessen. A man who is not touched by the earthy lyricism of hot…
The bird cawed hoarsely and with a flap of its bedraggled wings—feathers tufted this way and that—rose heavily to the top of the open kitchen door, where it perched staring down.
“Gevalt, a pogrom!”
“…
As for me, I was born in Tsviatshits and my name is Mendele the Book Peddler. Most of the year I’m on the road, travelling from one place to another, so people know me everywhere. I ride all over…
In the year 5594 (1834) it was the Ninth of Av, the holy day commemorating the Destruction of the Temple. In the morning, when the worshipers were lamenting at the…