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I was never able to answer my mother when she asked how her Holocaust experience had affected me. And she deserves my good-faith attempt, albeit these many years late.
By Paul MandelbaumOctober 2017You have faith you’re alive, no? You have faith you’re sitting here having a conversation with me. That I’m listening to you. Or maybe you don’t. Maybe you believe none of this is real. Maybe you believe in nothing but an endless void. But that’s still a kind of faith.
By Gabriel HellerMay 2016Three months after his aging daughter Rhonda gave him a one-year-old poodle-Lab-golden-retriever mix to keep as a pet, Felder came to believe that the dog — who looked at him mournfully whenever he went to the bathroom and waited for him by the door, as still as a statue, until he came out — was in fact none other than the reincarnation of his sister, Esther, may her name be a blessing.
By Jennifer Anne MosesOctober 2015Vienna, 1938, Freud, eighty-two. / Nazis and their allies parade in the streets, / flag after flag and those raised arms, / ceaseless enthusiasm and hatred of the Jews.
By Lou LipsitzJune 2014Three bearded rabbinical students in a rented car, / trunk filled with menorah kits and grape-juice bottles, / we pulled away from the all-male yeshiva in New Jersey / and headed west, into the heart of Pennsylvania, to celebrate / Chanukah with the Jewish inmates of Allenwood’s many prisons.
By Yehoshua NovemberJuly 2013Yoineh Meir no longer slept at night. If he dozed off, he was immediately beset by nightmares. Cows assumed human shape, with beards and side locks, and skullcaps over their horns. Yoineh Meir would be slaughtering a calf, but it would turn into a girl.
By Isaac Bashevis SingerOctober 2012The people who preach that “politics is the art of the possible” continually forget that we don’t know what’s possible; we find out by struggling for what’s desirable. Instead of listening to those who tell you to pick goals that can be achieved in the current political landscape, I say pick goals that will create the kind of world you want.
By Mark LevitonSeptember 2012History laughs as the wind lifts her skirts. It’s too late for modesty now.
By Sy SafranskyJuly 2012In the house where I grew up, the war never ended. All of us were infected with hatred. This was their real legacy. If my mother and grandmother had been pearl divers, I would be able to hold my breath for a very long time. But they were Holocaust survivors, so instead I have an infinite capacity for hatred.
By Dana KletterDecember 2011As children of a psychoanalyst, my brothers and I were brought up with three basic beliefs: everything has some deeper significance, there is no such thing as an accident, and never buy retail.
By Lad TobinSeptember 2010Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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