Tal Brody, left, with Richard Poritz at the Vancouver screening of On the Map. (photo by Kyle Berger)
It was a warm Israeli summer in 1965 when Tal Brody made the journey across the Atlantic to visit Israel for the first time. It was a trip that would not only change his life, but also the entire world of basketball in Israel.
Immediately after being drafted 12th overall by the Baltimore Bullets of the National Basketball Association (NBA) – or 13th, depending on how you saw it, according to Brody – he represented the United States at the Maccabiah Games that summer, leading them to a gold medal victory. He also fell in love with Israel.
He returned home with an offer to play in Israel for a year with Maccabi Tel Aviv, Israel’s represented team in the European Championship League. What followed was what many have called the birth of basketball in Israel, highlighted by Brody’s now-famous “We are on the map” quote – the inspiration behind the new documentary On the Map, the Vancouver première of which Brody attended at the end of November.
“Maccabi Tel Aviv was a team that never went past the first round of the European Basketball Championships,” Brody explained of the time before he visited Israel. “They asked me to take them to another level. They said that, by joining them, it would lift the spirits of the country and make them proud. This appealed to me as a young Jewish kid, so I decided to take a year out of my life. But I never imagined I would go to Israel for more than a year.”
That season, Maccabi Tel Aviv made it all the way to the European Cup Finals versus Italy. While they didn’t win it all, Brody saw firsthand the impact that basketball had on the spirit of Israel, as well as oppressed Jews around Europe.
“I saw what happened to the country because of basketball,” he said. “As well, as we played games in Eastern Europe, where Jews were suffering from antisemitism, I saw how proud they were when the team from Israel would come. The Jewish communities would gather around our team and, as the years went by, we became the team that had the most support wherever we went.”
Brody’s one-year plan turned into a lifetime, peaking in 1977 when Maccabi Tel Aviv won the European Cup Championship, defeating the heavily favored Russian Red Army squad. It was after that victory that Brody exclaimed, “We are on the map – and we are staying on the map! Not only in sports, but in everything!”
Today, Brody is one of the most recognized sports figures in Israeli history. Currently serving as a goodwill ambassador for the country, he was named the Israel Sportsman of the Year in 1967, was awarded the Israel Prize – Israel’s highest civilian honor – in 1979 and received a lifetime achievement award in the Knesset just last May.
“Every year I go back to the NBA all-star weekend and the guys always ask me the same thing: ‘Tal, why did you go to Israel?’” he shared. “I said, ‘Guys, even today, if I was offered 2.7 mill, if I knew what I would be missing, I wouldn’t take that money.’ I would never give up those 48 years in Israel. It’s been amazing.”
Since Brody’s influence, Maccabi Tel Aviv has remained a competitive team in the European Cup, winning it six times now. Israel has also seen two players play in the NBA, with Omri Kasspi currently playing for the Sacramento Kings and Gal Mekel playing for the Dallas Mavericks in 2013.
“To see and to take that journey from the rise of Maccabi Tel Aviv and now to see two Israeli players in the NBA and what it has done for the country is a good feeling,” Brody said. “It’s been such a great ride for me.”
Brody’s visit to Vancouver and the screening of On the Map were facilitated by the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver. The film will be officially released by Hey Jude Productions in 2016.
Kyle Bergeris Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver sports coordinator, and a freelance writer living in Richmond.
You have to speak more than one language if you want to read all of the articles on Vancouver photographer and Pop Surrealist Dina Goldstein’s art. English, of course, but also French, Italian, Spanish and Greek, for starters. Among other places, her work has been exhibited in Canada, of course, but also Poland, India, Colombia and, most recently, Holland.
She attended the Oct. 11 opening of In the Dollhouse at Rize Gallery in Amsterdam. “I try to get to all of my openings,” she told the Independent in an email interview. “Traveling and experiencing other cultures is the perk of being an artist. I enjoy being at the exhibition in person and seeing the reactions to my work. The galleries also like it when the artist is there to offer more perspective.”
In the Dollhouse is the second of three large-scale photographic series that Goldstein has created. The other two are Fallen Princesses and Gods of Suburbia. All three have been, or are being, exhibited in various places. About whether galleries pay artists to display their work, Goldstein explained, “The agreements vary from gallery to gallery, sales from the show are split between the gallery and the artist. There are some festivals that cover travel and accommodation in order for the artist to attend. I currently produce my own large-scale projects with the help of print sales and grant awards. These are print sales of my limited edition pieces from Fallen Princesses, In the Dollhouse and the Gods of Suburbia series (displayed on LED light panels).
“There are also art competitions that award cash prizes. This was the case for me when I won the Prix Virginia in 2014 and was gifted 10,000 euros.”
Goldstein has been a photographer for 25 years. “I started out quite young and worked very hard in my 20s and 30s to create a career for myself,” she said. “I was a photojournalist and traveled to war-torn regions. I freelanced, shooting covers and feature stories for magazines. (I was a staff photographer at the Jewish Western Bulletin.) I also photographed some cheeky ads with some brilliant art directors. People within the Vancouver Jewish community will remember me photographing weddings and bar mitzvahs; alongside, I created my own projects. Usually concentrated on the study of sub-cultures within society, I termed the work ‘photoanthropology.’ These images were documentary, photojournalistic.
“In 2009, I released my tableau series Fallen Princesses, which was an internet success and brought recognition to my personal work. I went on to realize more ambitious projects like In the Dollhouse in 2012, and Gods of Suburbia in 2014. I am now fully concentrated on producing my own large-scale conceptual series and have become a full-time artist.
“Storytelling has always been central in all of my work past and present,” she continued. “Documentary photography allowed me to create and share the stories of Palestinians in Gaza, gamblers at the racetrack, East Indian blueberry farmers in B.C., dog show dogs, bodybuilding state championships and teenagers dirty dancing at a bar mitzvah.”
Readers can see many of those images at dinagoldstein.com. They can also see images of her three large-scale series, all of which challenge viewers to question their beliefs, some of which were instilled in childhood. Is there an ideal body, an ideal marriage, an ideal anything? Can we rest assured that good ultimately prevails and evil is punished?
“Much of my work investigates the myth of perfection and the collective perception influenced by pop culture,” said Goldstein. “Western society today is influenced by pop culture, which informs us how to look, what to like, what to buy. Most people don’t even realize the effects of the unconscious collective that drives us to behave in certain ways. Perfection is not stable or sustainable in nature and in life. Also, there is an individual perspective about what is ‘good’ or ‘perfect.’ This is mainly the reason that I work with archetypes and stereotypes to relay my messages and offer some social critique. By twisting the storylines of beloved characters, I am able to provide some insight into the human condition, and expose the many flaws in the nature of humankind.”
Fallen Princesses takes the Disney version of 10 fairy-tale women, including Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Jasmine and others, and “creates metaphor out of the myths of fairy tales, forcing the viewer to contemplate real life: failed dreams, addiction, obesity, cancer, the extinction of indigenous culture, pollution, war and the fallacy of chasing eternal youth,” reads the description on Goldstein’s website. Goldstein’s Snowy, for example, is pictured in an unkempt living room, holding two kids in her arms, with one child pulling on her skirt and yet another playing on the floor, where a dog eats potato chips that her beer-drinking, TV-watching prince has let fall.
In the Dollhouse also features an iconic couple long into their marriage: Barbie and Ken. In Goldstein’s version, Ken begins to understand and accept his homosexuality, and he seems to flourish as the narrative progresses, while Barbie “breaks down and confronts her own value and fleeting relevance.”
But why doesn’t Barbie take her dream car and leave Ken? And the princesses? Granted they likely haven’t been taught the life skills needed to deal with illness, raising a family, etc., but do they just accept their unhappily ever after, or do they rail against it? Are they victims or survivors, both or neither?
“Throughout history, the focus in storytelling has been on men and their outlook of this world,” said Goldstein. “Women’s desires and interests have mostly been marginalized. I feel lucky to live in a free Western society where women’s roles are now more prominent. As a woman experiencing this transformation, I take full advantage by creating art that fully expresses my thoughts and opinions. I create art with fictional characters that has elements of real life. What you see within a work is a moment in time (within the fictional life or these fictional characters). As Barry Dumka pointed out in his essay, yes,
Barbie has lost her head, but she is Barbie and that head can pop right back on. Unfortunately, humans don’t have that luxury. In my tableau, the princesses are thrust into everyday life within realistic environments. They, too, have to figure out how to function and thrive within a complex world.”
Goldstein’s website is fascinating. Not only is her artwork displayed there and her many interviews, but she has a section called Dig Deeper. There, visitors can spend hours reading intelligent, thoughtful analyses of her work, including the aforementioned essay by Dumka.
Despite the grim situation of the princesses, of Barbie, there is humor in Goldstein’s work – there’s something sardonic about seeing Ariel, the Little Mermaid, in an aquarium, Belle of Beauty and the Beast undergoing plastic surgery, or Ken wearing Barbie’s high heels, for example. In Gods of Suburbia, she portrays Satan as a tow-truck operator, Darwin is watching people play the slots at a casino, and Buddha is shopping at Wholey Foods.
“I try to keep everything in perspective,” said Goldstein. “Let’s face it, life can get overwhelming and too serious. I use humor to cope with all that the world throws at me. Also to create conversation about modern society and how we perceive it. I utilize satire, which is intelligent ridicule, and irony, because it creates a situation that differs radically from what is actually the case.”
In a Times of Israel interview, when asked if there was a particular God of Suburbia that moved her most, Goldstein said Ganesha.
“The Ganesha piece was inspired by personal memories,” she told the Independent. “My family moved from Israel to Canada in 1976. At that time, Vancouver was a small town and it had not yet experienced the mass Asian population that you see today. My first few years here were very difficult and, as a young child, it was hard to comprehend.
“Learning a new language whilst dealing with schoolyard bullies. Even in high school, and after many years of integration, I felt different somehow. Most of my family remained in Israel, so we would visit every couple of years for the whole summer. There, I got recharged with chutzpah and the realities of war. So, I became an Israeli/Canadian hybrid. Israeli in many ways and not the typical Canadian. However, these days I know that I’m fully Canadianized because I listen to the CBC radio all day!
“Ganesha is naturally odd, as he has an elephant head and a boy’s body. He is different because of his appearance (I didn’t have that problem) but also because of his unique culture. He is judged for how he dresses, what he eats and even what he believes in. He faces the same cruelty that I encountered in elementary school.”
While all of Goldstein’s art can be seen on her website, there is nothing that can compare to seeing it in person. Gods of Suburbia will travel to Montreal in February to be shown by Art Souterrain. And there also will be at least one local opportunity to see the exhibit next year.
“The Diamond Foundation has generously donated the whole Gods of Suburbia show to appear at the Capture Festival [in April],” said Goldstein. “The exhibition will take place at a new gallery on East 6th Avenue in Vancouver called SOMA.”
Winnipeg Klezfest co-producers Bev Aronovitch, left, and Miriam Bronstein. (photo from Rady JCC)
After attending the week-long KlezKanada Laurentian retreat near Montreal, Miriam Bronstein and Beverly Aronovitch wondered, why not do the same in Winnipeg? And so, they began planning – the city’s first Klezfest took place at the Rady Jewish Community Centre on Oct. 10 and 11.
Bronstein, a retired music and high school drama teacher who continues to perform at the Fringe Festival, is also very involved with Soup Sisters, an organization that makes soup for women’s shelters. Aronovitch is a jazz musician, producer and retired teacher.
As both Bronstein and Aronovitch are of Eastern European decent, klezmer spoke to them. “I’m a singer, she’s a piano player, so we thought it might be fun to go spend time in that scene,” said Bronstein. “I never realized that I actually speak Yiddish because, as I grew up, my mother spoke Yiddish with me, but I only answered her in English. So, it’s actually quite remarkable that I can speak Yiddish.”
Of the KlezKanada experience, Bronstein said, “It was life changing. It reconnected me with that Eastern European community. It was very, very cool.”
At KlezKanada, Aronovitch and Bronstein enjoyed seeing people of all ages, from toddlers to 90-year-olds, dancing to the music, as well as McGill University students taking a klezmer course.
“There were people from all over the world, musicians from all over the world, and they weren’t all Jewish,” said Bronstein. “It was just such a scene that both of us just said, ‘Oh my gosh! We have to do this in Winnipeg!’ We just took it on when we came home. We didn’t forget about it. We just pursued it.”
Although KlezKanada was a week long, Bronstein and Aronovitch felt that the first such festival in Winnipeg had to be shorter, at least for starters. They began by booking the world-famous Klezmatics from New York and, with the help of Winnipeg’s own Finjan – Kinzey Posen, Shayla Fink, Myron Schultz and Daniel Koulack – they put together a full day of festivities. It kicked off with a Saturday night Klezmatics performance, followed by several Sunday workshops, culminating in a concert led by members of Finjan and the Klezfest faculty.
“We had a wonderful workshop about great Yiddish composers and beginner klezmer playing sessions, and then a more advanced session called Readers’ Romp,” said Bronstein.
“One idea we had that is unique to Winnipeg was that we very much wanted to cross borders and recognize we have many ethnic communities in Winnipeg, so we had a workshop called Common Roots,” she said. “We got Ukrainian musicians and Romanian musicians. We brought people in from the city and the theme was ‘Weddings.’ They played what you’d play at a Ukrainian wedding and then the members of Finjan played what you’d play at a Jewish wedding.”
Bronstein would like to expand on the Common Roots concept next time, as there is a big Eastern European contingency in Winnipeg. She’d also like to see annual Mamaloshen Festival of Yiddish Entertainment and Culture attendees participate in Klezfest.
With their first Klezfest behind them, Bronstein said, “We’re just kind of basking in the glow. It was hugely successful. In the end, everybody was dancing in the foyer. It was so wild, it was so thrilling. People were so elated to be part of it. I taught at the Jewish day school here and there were 25 high school students who were part of the event.
“There were some people, some non-Jews – a considerable amount considering it’s Winnipeg and it’s a small community in general – but it would be nice if it was even more widespread. I think that, the more we do it, we increasingly make the name known, and it will open up even more to the general community.”
Bronstein and Aronovitch would eventually like to see participants get to a point where they are able to lead a performance at the end of the festival. Bronstein envisions this as “a participatory type of performance, where people who did dance classes can present what they learned and people who did the playing workshops can be a part of the band.”
She added, “It was a pleasure to work with our fantastic working committee and the Rady JCC. Without them, it could not have happened.”
The Western Canada Jewish Book Awards are a new initiative of the Cherie Smith JCC Jewish Book Festival. The initiative is designed to celebrate excellence in writing on Jewish themes and showcase the achievements of authors residing west of the Ontario-Manitoba border. The awards aim to recognize the contribution to Jewish culture by these writers, and prizes will be awarded in several categories.
In the inaugural year of the awards (2016), books published in 2014 and 2015 will be accepted. A jury comprised of distinguished members of the literary community will examine the eligible submissions, which will be accepted until Feb. 29, 2016.
It is possible to submit to more than one category. The categories are the Diamond Foundation Prize for fiction, the Pinsky Family Prize for non-fiction, the Betty Averbach Foundation Prize for poetry, the Jonathan and Heather Berkowitz Prize for children and youth books, and the Marsid Foundation Prize for writing on the Holocaust.
Currently, there are two other Jewish book awards in Canada. One is in Montreal, dedicated to writing in Yiddish, and one in Toronto. Although the book awards in Toronto are national, it is the JCC Jewish Book Festival’s hope that Western Canada-based awards will encourage more authors to enter books into competition. By being geographically based, one goal is to enhance the literary scene in Western Canada, which, for the intentions of this award, is considered as being from west of the Manitoba-Ontario border, including the northern regions, to the B.C. coast.
The submitting author must have lived in Western Canada for the past 12 months or have lived in Western Canada for at least three of the past five years. A book written by a non-Jewish author is eligible if in accordance with the following criteria. Eligible books contain significant Jewish content or theme; they are written by an eligible author (see above); they are written in English or are available in English; they are published in English or in English translation between Jan. 1 and Dec. 31 of the year of the award and the year previous to it; they have a 13-digit ISBN, including eBooks; and graphic books are eligible.
The books submitted will be judged by independent industry professionals. The jury will be comprised of five judges, including a chair, to be drawn from a larger pool including judges from all Western provinces. The winners will be announced by mid-April. An awards soirée and event will take place at a later date in the spring. There will be a monetary award of $2,000 for each winning author.
To submit a book for the award, download the form via jewishbookfestival.ca. Mail or deliver in person the following items for each book submitted: a completed entry form, five copies of the book and the $36 entry fee per prize category. Send the package to JCC Jewish Book Festival, attn: Dana Camil Hewitt, at 950 West 41st Ave., Vancouver, B.C., V5Z 2N7.
Contact Camil Hewitt, JBF director, at 604-257-5156 or [email protected], with any questions.
Rarely has a book worked me up as much as More Than Just Games: Canada and the 1936 Olympics by professors Richard Menkis (University of British Columbia) and Harold Troper (University of Toronto).
More Than Just Games was published by U of T Press in the spring. I got my copy from Menkis, who, biases known, I consider a friend. Even so, it took me months to open. The cover image is of members of Canada’s 1936 Olympic team vying for Adolf Hitler’s autograph. Other than some high-quality archival images grouped in the centre of the book, the text is academic, looking almost as imposing as the topic itself. So I was surprised that, when I finally did start reading, I pretty much couldn’t stop. In just over a week, I had read the 230ish-page book, not counting the notes, bibliography and index.
That the scholarship of academics with the credentials of Menkis and Troper would be impeccable I had no doubt. What I hadn’t anticipated was the immediacy they could evoke with their writing. The amount of detail they provide, though on rare occasion overwhelming, serves to bring readers into the period leading up to Canada’s decision to send athletes to the Olympic Games in Berlin in 1936, when there could be no doubt as to the Nazis’ actions and intentions.
Through ample use of citations from letters, articles and speeches of the pro- and anti-Olympic forces, readers witness almost firsthand the debates that took place prior to the Games, they get a glimpse of the almost dizzying number of internal conflicts within the boycott movement, and they get an idea of the amount of propaganda that was being disseminated by Germany in Canada (and other countries). They even learn of some of the differences of opinion between the German Olympic Committee and the Nazi party as to the value of hosting the Games, when the event’s ideal – no discrimination on “grounds of race, religion, politics, gender or otherwise” – ran contrary to the Nazis’ belief in the superiority of the Aryan race, and their efforts to annihilate those they considered inferior.
There were a few outspoken people who tried to waken Canadians to the reality of the Nazi regime – notably journalist Matthew Halton and Rabbi Maurice Eisendrath – but their voices couldn’t rise above the Games’ advocates nor break through the apathy of most of the population. Canada, we are reminded, had closed the doors to Jewish immigration in 1923 – “In distinguishing Jews from non-Jews of the same citizenship, Canada predated Nazi regulations denying Jews and non-Jews equal status under the law by more than 10 years,” write Menkis and Troper.
This is one of the principal reminders of this book, which came out of an exhibit that the professors put together at the behest of the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre, and which opened several months before the 2010 Winter Olympics were held in the city. Canada might have become a model of multiculturalism, but it was not always so.
Another reminder that stands out is that it doesn’t necessarily take evil people for bad things to happen. Many of the supporters – including athletes – of sending Canadians to the 1936 Games sincerely believed in their position on the importance of sport above all, and seem to have been genuinely confused as to why anyone would disagree. Canada’s position was that of a good colony, following the lead of Britain, which saw no reason not to send competitors. It’s not even obvious in hindsight as to whether Canada’s absence at those Games would have made a difference to the Nazis’ progression of violence to war, to genocide.
Sensibly, Menkis and Troper don’t try to examine the issues with the benefit of hindsight. They present numerous viewpoints and historical facts, mostly without judgment. Their opinions, however, pop out here and there via their choice of adjective or use of sarcasm. I found this comforting because they generally reflected my mood at those points in the book. I would be getting all worked up about what was being said at the time and their jibe would make me smile, and not feel like the crazy one. Because that’s what it felt like reading about it – I can only imagine how people like Halton and Eisendrath felt, actually being there, trying to fight against such ignorance, selfishness, pettiness, narrow-mindedness, greed and indifference.
More Than Just Games is an important contribution to Canadian history, and it is not only a must-read but a very good read.
It’s a wonder any of us are alive. And it’s even more a wonder that we are each the result of generations (not to mention stardust). Not only do genes past and present influence who we are, but the actions of our ancestors, both distant and recent, brought us to where we are today. And we are but a moment in time, a link to future generations.
It’s hard not to get sentimental and contemplative reading Living Legacies: A Collection of Writing by Contemporary Canadian Jewish Women (PK Press, 2014). In this instance, Volume 4 that Toronto-based editor Liz Pearl has brought to life; though the previous editions are equally thought-inspiring. Volume 5 is already well in the works.
Among the more than 20 contributors to Volume 4 is Pearl with an essay on her name, Lisbeth Anne Ahuva Pearl Katz, though she has been known as Liz since 1990 and rarely uses her husband’s surname. “I have always liked the name Pearl – a rare and precious gem, and have never considered it just my maiden name,” she writes. “Pearl is a central piece of my name and core identity.” As is her namesake, her maternal great-grandmother Liba Sherashevsky Gitkin, z”l. Born in Lithuania, Liba and her family all died in the Holocaust; her grandmother, Sonia bat Liba, “managed to emigrate in 1935 [to Canada], following a brief courtship and quick marriage” – “the sole surviving member of her family-of-origin.”
About to volunteer as a chaperone on a March of the Living trip, Pearl reflects on the “strong values of Zionism, Yiddishkeit, tzedakah and Jewish education that were central” to her grandmother’s life, which she gained from her mother and others of that generation, and which she passed on to her children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and counting. “My namesake and maternal lineage are firmly embedded with history, heritage and wisdom, and form the roots of my solid Canadian Jewish identity.”
Other contributors echo these types of thoughts and feelings. Local author Lillian Boraks-Nemetz, a child survivor of the Holocaust, dedicates her essay, called “Sacrifice,” to her “beloved grandmother, Kazimira Solomon Boraks (1878-1949).” Describing a moment in Russia in the summer of 2010, she writes, “I stand on the shore of the city of the Bronze Horseman, searching the horizon, scanning it for clues to a woman who was born here long before the city became Leningrad, who spent her life in exile, and who died in exile, away from her homeland and her family. A woman who saved my life – my babushka, grandmother in Russian.”
Boraks-Nemetz briefly recounts some of her memories of her years in hiding, the physical and emotional effects of what she experienced and witnessed, her grandfather’s death in the ghetto, and her father’s death only weeks before her grandmother’s in 1948. She notes some of the similarities in their lives – hers and her grandmother’s – and she explains the sacrifices her grandmother made to keep her alive. It is a loving and moving tribute.
Each essay in Living Legacies has something to recommend it. Not all are as deeply serious but all are personal, yet universal. Gratitude is one of the words that comes to mind after reading this collection. Looking at life in the context of the generations before and still to come is both humbling and empowering.
It’s a wonderful concept. A family flees from Russia in 1928. By 1933, they are running a lodge in Canada – the only place Jews can stay. Among their more known guests are the Marx brothers, in particular for the plot, Harpo. Jump to 2003 and the fourth generation, Emily Kogan runs away to her family’s lodge to escape her unraveling PhD thesis. While her academic future remains uncertain, her research brings clarity of her family’s history and of the connections that truly matter.
The Capacity for Infinite Happiness (Buckrider Books) by Alexis von Konigslow is a solid first novel. Von Konigslow is a talented writer with a gift for language and storytelling. Straight away, she sets up the mystery and the tension, describing the scene as Emily’s great-grandmother, Ayala, prepares to flee Russia with her husband and daughter, Blima, Emily’s grandmother:
“Pay attention,” said the tall man.
He was so long that he seemed to be folded into the hallway. He was standing close to Blima’s mother, his big hands around her smaller ones, pressing papers into her palms. Blima had seen this man before, and she hadn’t liked him then either. She backed away, quietly so that they wouldn’t know she was there.
“Ayala, I need you to listen to me,” the man said again.
Ayala bowed into his chest. Blima shivered.
“I don’t want you to panic, or pretend that you’re bored. Here’s what I want you to do. When the officials ask to see your papers, I need you to pinch the little girl, pinch her hard. Don’t tell your husband that you’re going to do it. That way, she’ll be crying, you’ll both be concerned, everyone will want the scene to be over.”
Blima crouched down. She was the only little girl in the house.
“Also, make sure that your shirt is unbuttoned,” the man said, touching her mother’s blouse. “That will help.”
“I don’t want to do this,” said Ayala.
“As a plan, it’s perfectly safe. You’ll send these back by post. We’ll be together again before the end of the year.”
The questions that arise from this opening passage, notably about the man helping Ayala and her family, are central to the novel and keep you reading as it struggles to find its feet. The book’s format, which alternates between Harpo’s 1933 visit to the lodge and Emily’s 2003 visit, interrupts the flow at first and doesn’t become a tension-increasing device until about two-thirds of the way into the book. As well, while von Konigslow’s poetic writing is succinct, it is also repetitive on a few points: Harpo’s concerns about whether he’d make a good father; whether or not William, who Harpo meets in the woods on more than one occasion, is a real person or a figment of the actor’s imagination; and Emily’s ruminations about her thesis and her successive excuses for putting it off.
For almost 200 pages, The Capacity for Infinite Happiness is an OK read; its last 100-plus pages, however, as it becomes more focused and races towards “the reveals,” are excellent. A few minor edits would have made the novel a standout from start to finish. As it is, it is still worth reading for its unique premise, the quality of writing and its insights into Jewish life in the first half of the last century, the meaning of family, how we impact each other even across generations and, most important, love.
Basic Black with Pearls by Helen Weinzweig is having a second life as a 35th anniversary reissue. The novel won the 1981 Toronto Book Award and gained critical acclaim when it was first issued. Yet, it had been largely forgotten by most Canadians until recently, its revival heralded by reviewers in Canada.
The Polish-born Weinzweig began writing comparatively late in life and certainly never became a household name like some of her contemporary Canadian writers. However, she cut ground with experimental writing that, in this novel, employs dreamlike progression as her character assimilates the dramatic stories of ordinary people she encounters as she moves from place to place and mood to mood.
The narrator, Shirley Kaszenbowski, travels the world under the alias Lola Montez. If the reader is not quite sure who Shirley/Lola really is at the start of the book, it is amply clear by the end that she doesn’t know precisely either.
Her dull, although far from normal, home life is bearable thanks to a secret world she inhabits, in which she travels the world meeting her lover, Coenraad. Because of Coenraad’s top-secret role in a spooky intelligence service, rendezvous locations are secretly conveyed through numerical codes hidden in the latest issue of National Geographic, leading her to dramatic forays into remote parts of the world.
The theatrical, noir-ish story (the title marquees basic black, after all) unfolds through furtive, whispered conversations, overheard snippets, recollected traumas and sexual fantasies … or are they real encounters? It is often dark, sometimes dismal and lonely, yet the writing is brisk. Emotions and events transpire and are left behind in quick succession as the story – and Lola’s adventures – speed along. Much is packed into the novel of little more than 100 pages.
And while the book is fiction, it captures a real sense of a Toronto gone by: the original Shopsy’s backing onto the Yiddish theatre, and passing mentions of landmarks, familiar and less familiar, as she trudges the city’s streets like a lost soul.
Some reviewers have viewed this novel as a feminist tome. If so, it is in the sense of illustrating how some women’s lives are dictated and proscribed by the men in their lives. Or, figuratively or literally, not in their lives.
Despite critical acclaim, Weinzweig never joined the famous names of Canadian literature, or even the smaller shelf that is Jewish Canadian literature, and she was well aware of this before she died in 2010.
She wrote to the Globe and Mail once: “Canadians hate success … Basic Black with Pearls has had rave reviews and has been bought by William Morrow Company in New York. Success and 60 cents will get me a ride on the subway. No one can find a copy of my novel in the bookstores.”
The iconic Canadian literary publisher House of Anansi recognized something in this work that deserved to be shared with another generation. Weinzweig would be pleased. If only bookstores were still a thing. Basic Black with Pearls is also available as a digital book.
Serious topics are at the fore of the books for younger readers reviewed by the Jewish Independent this Chanukah. From the story of a Russian dancer whose life is cut short by pneumonia to Canadian teenagers who must work 13-hour days for little pay to young Danes who take on the Nazis, these recent publications respect the intelligence of their audience and, through the combination of entertaining narratives and compelling images, broaden their understanding and knowledge of the world.
Swan: The Life and Dance of Anna Pavlova (Chronicle Books) is intended for readers ages 6-8. It is truly a work of art that writer Laurel Snyder and illustrator Julie Morstad (who happens to live in Vancouver) have created. The illustrations are stunning and the placement of the text is also artistically done.
As Snyder explains at the end of the book, Anna Pavlova was born in 1881. Her mother was a laundress, “and Russia under the czars was generally a world where the poor stayed poor. Anna’s life should have been dismal.” But then her mother took her to the ballet. Onstage, “A sleeping beauty opens her eyes … and so does Anna. Her feet wake up! Her skin prickles. There is a song, suddenly, inside her. Now Anna cannot sleep. Or sit still ever. She can only say, dip and spin….”
The story follows Anna as she practises and practises, until finally accepted into ballet school. After which, more practising, “Until one night she takes the stage … Anna becomes a glimmer, a grace.” She becomes world famous, traveling the globe, though never forgetting her humble beginnings, and becomes a ballet teacher when she can no longer perform. “Until a chill finds Anna, hunts her down alone, without her boots and mittens. A wind. A cough beside a stopped train. A rattle she can’t shake.” In the book, as she apparently did in real life, Anna asks for her swan dress from her sick bed. One last performance, if only in her mind. She died in 1931.
For readers interested in knowing more about Anna Pavlova, Swan includes a nine-book bibliography.
* * *
While change may take awhile in coming, it can be achieved. Take, for instance, working conditions in Canada. The title of Anne Dublin’s 44 Hours or Strike! (Second Story Press) comes from one of the unmet demands that led to the Toronto Dressmakers’ Strike of 1931: a 44-hour work week.
After their father is laid off, Rose must leave school to work in a dress factory. When their father dies from tuberculosis and their mother becomes ill from an unknown ailment (at least at first), 14-year-old Sophie must join her 16-year-old sister at the factory. The working conditions are appalling and they include a lecherous foreman.
When the workers go on strike, there is little empathy. Immigrants (especially Jews) are resented and not trusted, and the Depression has left many people in dire poverty. In an altercation 10 days into the strike, Rose – who did nothing wrong – is arrested with some other strikers and, without due process, is sentenced “to 30 days at the Mercer Reformatory for Women or a $100 fine – as if she had ever seen that much money in her life!”
Sophie must continue her strike duty, as well as care for her mother. She receives some comfort from the friendship of Jake, a paperboy who, unfortunately, is not Jewish.
44 Hours or Strike! – aimed at readers 10 to 14 years old – covers a lot of issues in its 124 pages. The archival photos really help put readers in 1931 Toronto, and brief biographies of some of the labor activists at the time are included at the back of the book. Dublin also lists many options for further reading on the topic.
* * *
The incredible true story of a group of Danish teenagers who, during the Second World War, fought against the Nazis through acts of sabotage is told by Phillip Hoose and Knud Pedersen in The Boys Who Challenged Hitler: Knud Pedersen and the Churchill Club (Farrar, Straus and Giroux).
This book is comprised of Hoose’s narrative and excerpts from his nearly 25-hour interview with Pedersen in 2012, as well as photos, illustrations, scans of documents and sidebars. At times, it’s hard to know where to look on a page and what to read first. But that shouldn’t be a problem for the 12-to-18-year-olds for whom the book is written.
Pedersen was in Grade 8 when, on April 9, 1940, Germany attacked both Norway and Denmark. The Norwegians put up a valiant, if short-lived, resistance. “Jens [Pederson’s brother] and I, and our closest friends, were totally ashamed of our government,” Pedersen says. “At least the Norwegian victims had gone down in a country they could be proud of. Our small army had surrendered to the German forces within a few hours on April 9…. One thing had become very clear: now any resistance in Denmark would have to come from ordinary citizens, not from trained soldiers.”
The brothers with a few others started their rebellion in Odense, where they were living. They called themselves the RAF Club, after the British air force. They would do things like change or damage road signs and cut telephone lines.
When their father was posted to Jutland and the family moved, the brothers organized the Churchill Club; named, of course, after Winston Churchill. They continued their acts of resistance, which came to include blowing up train cars full of material the Nazis needed. Eventually, after about a year, all of the Churchill Club boys were discovered and sent to jail in 1942. The brothers spent two years in prison. Hoose lets readers know what happened to them and their co-saboteurs. There is a selected bibliography and author’s notes on each chapter. This book would be great as the basis of a school project.
Harpo Marx and the Bodnes in the Rose Room. The hotel’s list of illustrious guests is almost literally endless. (photo from Algonquin Kid)
Michael Elihu Colby had the unique privilege to be brought up in New York’s legendary Algonquin Hotel. Well, not exactly brought up in it, but his grandparents owned it from 1946 to 1987 and he was there a lot.
Colby’s book, The Algonquin Kid (BearManor Media) is chock-a-block with stories from his experience as a youngster hanging around and also tales handed down through the years.
Grandma Mary and Grandpa Ben Bodne loom large in the book, as they did in the hotel and, by extension, cultural life in New York City in the 20th century. The grandparents were from the southern United States and Ben became wealthy through oil during the Second World War and afterward sought to parlay his money into something else. Despite having no hotel experience, the couple threw themselves into the adventure.
The hotel was a dilapidated shadow of its former glory. On top of the million dollars the hotel cost, the family had to sink another $300,000 into making it decent. This renovation was not welcomed by all the guests. The hotel had residents who had lived there for 20 years and who were highly averse to change.
The book is fabulously gossipy and it would have been shorter, maybe, if Colby had listed the celebrities he didn’t run into. Tennessee Williams, Norman Mailer, William Saroyan and John Cheever were among the literary lights.
Although this was well past the hey-day of the famed Algonquin Round Table, some of those names were still hanging on, too.
Show biz figures included Ingrid Bergman, Kitty Carlyle, Tallulah Bankhead and Angela Lansbury, the latter two of whom lived at the hotel. Rosemary Clooney, Irving Berlin, Noel Coward, Ella Fitzgerald … the list is almost literally endless.
The Algonquin was welcoming to actors and artists blacklisted during the McCarthy era and also to African-Americans at a time when this was unusual. Among the bold-faced names in this category: Maya Angelou, Coretta King, Thurgood Marshall and Oscar Peterson.
The hotel staff included its own characters, like a telephone operator who had the skills of the CIA at tracking down anyone anywhere, and a quick-thinking maître D’: “When a guest found a fly in her salad, he popped it in his mouth, swallowed down the evidence, and exclaimed ‘Delicious! A raisin.’”
This is a book of family stories and such stories, especially when the family is filled with characters, can improve with the telling. The author may or may not believe some of his own tales.
“Grandpa Ben claimed he first met a celebrity selling her a paper: he believed that woman, who tipped him generously, was Helen Keller,” writes Colby. Think for a moment about how likely that story is to be true.
How about this story of Grandma Mary welcoming Marilyn Monroe: “After greeting each other, Grandma remarked, ‘Marilyn, that’s the most beautiful mink you have on!’ Marilyn replied, ‘You think that’s something, you should see what’s underneath.’ She pulled open the mink, and wasn’t wearing anything. Not every kid can claim his grandmother was flashed by Marilyn Monroe.” Well, every kid can claim it.
Legendary Broadway librettist Alan Jay Lerner and composer Frederick Loewe were working in a ninth-floor hotel room, below the family’s 10th-floor apartment.
“One evening, Grandpa could no longer stand the ivories tinkling in Room 908 – one light below – disturbing his sleep. He phoned the hotel operator to ask Lerner and Loewe to quiet down, complaining, ‘I wouldn’t mind if they were writing something good, but this is just noise.’ It turned out Lerner and Loewe were creating the song ‘I Could Have Danced All Night.’”
Unlike others who visited or lived at the Algonquin, Colby is not among America’s greatest writers, but his stories are well worth the read.