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Emmanuel Hollander worked at, and believed in progress, but progress was not a religious notion for him, as it was for his future wife. He was an engineer and knew that every machine began as a…
Rosie thought about father—a repressed anxiety that never disappeared altogether and lingered as a dark shadow behind a light and joyful life, like the pale backdrop to a colorful stage—but she did…
The Three Ketovim
There are three Ketovim: in the early morning
One wanders off, who in the fresh bread
Has concealed his shameless anger.
Do not eat it, as it will lead to a painful death,
Over the…
He read my songs of sorrow and mourning . . .
Has one Poet wreaked against his People
If I erred through licentious ways,
If I erred, vain and unfaithful?
Thus mourns my song. No word of comfort…
A street. At the right the entrance to the synagogue, with steps and a portico. At the left the house of Aaron, before which are some chairs, in the shade of an awning. Some trees and…
He never mentions it by name. It might have been Trebibor or Majdawitz, Soblinka or Birkenhausen. He talks about “the camp,” as if there had been just one.
“After the war,” he says, “I saw a film…