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Once Clara asked me, “How come your family emigrated to Canada, of all places? I thought the Jews went to New York.”
I was born Canadian, I explained, because my grandfather, a ritual slaughterer, was…
No, Moshe was not a serious Jewish boy. He was not committed to the history of the Jewish people. If he were asked to locate Tel Aviv on a map of Israel, I am not sure that Moshe could have done it.
I…
How long did I wander in Caesarea,
That enchanting place where my heart had adored you.
—Racine, Bérénice, I, 4.
I was only a child of the peace, born into a strange postwar. How could I have…
[…] There I am, a kid in Chicago. Not from a particularly religious family. On top of the world, in the middle of the middle class. Ten years old and an only child. The war over half a decade and the…
I love the red and blue electric trains. For twenty-five cents they go from Puente Hierro all the way to Sabana Grande. I notice that some streets have high sidewalks with side rails and stairs at…
The train pulls up to the platform, steaming and boiling like a samovar.
Lazar is standing on the platform—short, glowing, joyful—waving his dirty handkerchief at the cars.
The train is on its way to…
All that had happened to him lay behind him like a yawning abyss. There was a strange excitement for him in his adjustment, an intoxication beyond fear. His movements were untrammeled, and as a result…