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Even after the crowd had dispersed, I couldn’t bring myself to leave the Tsirkin farm. The longer I stood watching, the more stagnant the clear water grew, forming a green nightmare of slime before my…
I am an American, Chicago born—Chicago, that somber city—and go at things as I have taught myself, free-style, and will make the record in my own way: first to knock, first admitted…
One day, during World War Two, a military chaplain arrived at our army camp in the Australian outback, to celebrate the Feast of Hanukkah with us and tell us about the wars of the Maccabees. Apart…
Even if I consider myself too much of a big shot to set foot inside a synagogue for fifteen minutes—which is all he is asking—at least I should have respect enough to change into decent clothes for…
The anthologist, like the historian and the novelist, is an autobiographer is disguise. He is driven into the jungles and watering places of literature by instinct as well as by design. The ultimate…