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In late November 1947, in what had once been a quiet suburb of Jerusalem, I first heard of the Dead Sea Scrolls. I was at the time Chief of Operations of Haganah, the Jewish underground self-defence…
The New York Yiddish Theater opened its London season that autumn with what the drama critic of our building, a watchmaker named Shmulik, described as a daring translation of Gotthold Ephraim Lessing…
There is an old talmudic saying: “A Jew who has sinned still remains a Jew.” My own thinking is, of course, beyond the idea of “sin” or “no sin”; but this saying has brought to my mind a memory from…
Photographs shock us in so far as they show us something novel. Unfortunately, the ante keeps getting raised—partly through the very proliferation of such images of horror. One’s first encounter with…
When the fathers of Confederation built this country in 1867, there was universal agreement among all Canadians, English- and French-speaking, that there was no place for the American Dream on the…
Few events of a similar kind ever attracted the attention of the public, in such a degree, as the contests between Mr. Humphreys and myself. The long correspondence which passed between us previous to…
There are contradictions and ambivalences in our celebrating Thanksgiving. We are recent Americans. It wasn’t the Mayflower that brought our people over here. We know too much about what the coming of…
In the spring of 1961, I flunked an exam that would have enabled me to write an honors thesis. In reality, it was a minor failure—I was spending most of my time at the Crimson building, where I was…
This excerpt from Kate Simon’s Bronx Primitive: Portraits in Childhood explores the controversial and secretive decision many immigrant women made to get an abortions, and the means of obtaining one.
The bathroom looked as though some spiteful thug had left his calling card after having robbed the house. As my father was tended to and he was what counted, I would just as soon have nailed the door…