JCC Jewish Book Festival

A range of Jewish literature

The 41st annual Cherie Smith JCC Jewish Book Festival opens Feb. 21 with award-winning novelist John Irving and closes Feb. 26 with award-winning singer-songwriter, composer and author Peter Himmelman. In between, a range of writers and topics are presented. As always, this year’s festival fulfils its mission, as expressed by director Dana Camil Hewitt in the program: “to expose the general community to a curated snapshot of recent Jewish literature and ideas.”

While Irving, the opening author, is not Jewish, his latest novel, Queen Esther, takes readers back to the era and place of one of his most popular stories, The Cider House Rules, which was made into a movie. He focuses this time on the Winslow family, who adopt Esther Nacht from St. Cloud’s orphanage in Maine. The 14-year-old Viennese Jew was born in 1905 and came to the United States with her parents, her father dying on the voyage, her mother a few years later. Esther was left at the orphanage as a little girl, but no one had wanted to adopt a Jewish child, until the Winslows.

The Winslows are, to say the least, an unconventional family and, among other things, don’t adhere to the antisemitic attitudes of the times. The novel sheds light on Esther’s background and we witness a bit of her life with the Winslows, but then she mostly drops out of the story, returning to Europe to reconnect with her roots and then settling in Israel. The bulk of the novel centres on Jimmy, Esther’s son, born and raised in true Winslow style – unconventionally.

Truth be told, Queen Esther is not Irving’s best novel, it rambles and doesn’t quite hit the right message, but it’s written with heart and a seeming desire to counter antisemitism and change the narrative about Israel. Irving fans will enjoy reencountering some old “friends,” like St. Cloud’s Dr. Wilbur Larch, and recurring themes, including chosen family, Vienna, wrestling and sexual politics.

Irving is in conversation with Marsha Lederman Feb. 21, 7:30 p.m. Tickets are $36 ($65 with book).

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Politics and antisemitism are at the fore in Dr. Ted Rosenberg’s book Ayekha, Where Are You? Reading it will provide some healing for fellow members of the Jewish community, most of whom will know that Rosenberg resigned from the University of British Columbia’s faculty of medicine in 2024 (after a 30-year career there) because of the school’s refusal to do anything about the rampant antisemitism on campus, which escalated after Hamas’s massacre of Israelis on Oct. 7, 2023. The situation was so toxic that Rosenberg no longer felt safe.

In his resignation letter to the faculty’s dean, Dermot Kelleher – sent after other attempts to warn UBC leadership of the problems – Rosenberg wrote:

“I lament the carnage and deaths of both Israeli and Palestinian civilians during this horrific war and this seemingly insoluble and interminable complex tragedy. I also understand and appreciate the strong convictions held by people on both sides of this conflict. However, oversimplistic ahistorical demonizing narratives and rhetoric, by either side, will do nothing to deepen our understanding, empathy, respect, or trust of one another, nor hasten a resolution of this crisis.

“One third of the medical students and some faculty have publicly expressed their contempt towards me, as a Jew. I cannot take the risk of being accused of implicit harassment or racism, which is indefensible, by a ‘triggered’ student. Unfortunately, I have no faith in due process in a faculty that does not even acknowledge the existence or presence of antisemitism/Jew-hatred, or my right to work in a depoliticized environment.”

The award-winning physician, who pioneered a home-based care model for the frail elderly and still practices medicine, wrote the dean, “It deeply saddens me to end my academic career on this note.”

There are so many Jewish academics, medical professionals and others who have been similarly mistreated, both by antisemitic actions and people’s fear of dealing with antisemitism. Reading more about Rosenberg’s experiences is akin to attending a group therapy session. We not only feel less alone afterward, but come away with some knowledge that might help us in processing all that’s happened in the last almost two-and-a-half years, and in confronting the antisemitism we continue to face.

Rosenberg talks at the Vancouver JCC Feb. 22, 1:30 p.m. (tickets are $18), and at the White Rock/South Surrey JCC at 4 p.m.

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Since Oct. 7, it seems that learning more about Judaism, its tenets, its folklore, has been a common way for Jews to deal with the trauma inflicted by that day, the subsequent war and the increasingly open Jew-hatred globally. For anyone who likes graphic novels, The Writer might be an invigorating and educational salve.

Written and created by actor Josh Gad and the Berkowitz Bros. production company (founded by Ben and Max Berkowitz) with art by Ariel Olivetti and letters by Frank Cvetkovic, the four-part series stars disheveled English professor and unreliable divorced dad Stan Siegel, the writer of the series’ title, who looks a lot like Gad. Stan’s “sidekicks” are his kickass mom Liz and his daughter Izzy. They encounter all sorts of demons, dybbuks, golems and other characters out of Jewish mythology, as well as various historical figures, while Izzy also must confront current-day antisemitism and racism – harassed by classmates for being Jewish and for being Black.

The Writer is an homage to the creators’ Jewish identities, to the comic books, science fiction shows and adventure movies they loved, as well as to Gad’s Holocaust survivor grandparents and to Boston, where the Berkowitz brothers grew up. While they didn’t grow up surrounded by Jewish mysticism, they were inspired when they discovered it and it “felt like home,” notes the afterword. “This story became a way for them to celebrate that heritage – the rich tapestry of Jewish storytelling in all its forms, from Ashkenazic to Sephardic, Beta Israelite, Hispanic, Asian and beyond.”

The tapestry is so rich and deep that it is hard sometimes to follow all that’s going on in an “episode” of The Writer, but it’s a wild ride, a world that’s wonderfully and colourfully drawn, where good battles all sorts of evil and unlikely heroes prevail.

The Berkowitz brothers are at the festival Feb. 23, 7 p.m. Tickets are $18.

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Himmelman closes the book festival on Feb. 26, 8 p.m. (tickets: $25), talking about his collection of essays, Suspended By No String: A Songwriter’s Reflections on Faith, Aliveness and Wonder, with Rabbi Dan Moskovitz. It might seem odd to have a rabbi lead a conversation with a musician, composer and visual artist, but Himmelman describes his book as being about faith, and shares what went into his decision to use the word “God” in it, as opposed to, say, “spirituality,” despite concerns from several people that its use might alienate readers. Hopefully, it won’t, as there is much insight to be gained from Himmelman’s observations, insights and perspectives on wonder, loss and gratitude. His playful sketches are a delightful complement to the text.

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Also appearing at this year’s book festival are, in order of appearance, writers Carol Matas, Lihi Lapid, Aron Hirt-Manheimer, Douglas Century, Yishay Ishi Ron, Yardenne Greenspan, Sasha Senderovich, Marina Sonkina, Claire Sicherman, Danila Botha and Janet Horvath. For tickets and more information, visit jccgv.com/jewish-book-festival.

Life’s full range of emotions

Bonny Reichert will be in Vancouver on March 4 to talk about her new memoir, How to Share an Egg, as an epilogue to the JCC Jewish Book Festival, which runs Feb. 21-26. (photo by Kayla Rocca)

When Bonny Reichert was a kid, living in Edmonton, her baba, who had come to Canada as a teen on her own in the early 1900s to escape pogroms in Ukraine, would come to stay with her family for the weekend and “the house brightened,” writes Reichert in How to Share an Egg: A True Story of Hunger, Love and Plenty. “She arrived as though she were fleeing all over again, with parcels and packages and a giant soup pot wrapped in a tea towel, knotted to make a handle. Things were hot or cold or frozen. I didn’t know to wonder if she’d stayed up all night rolling and pinching and stuffing for us. Pekeleh, she called her bundles, little packages. Pekeleh also means burdens. Yiddish is like that.”

As with pekeleh, meaning both treats and worries, there have been many contrasts in Reichert’s life, opposite things or states of being existing simultaneously. Her memoir is fascinating for the challenges she has faced and the way in which she has dealt with them. Readers can hear the award-winning writer in conversation with Marsha Lederman on March 4, 7:30 p.m., at the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver, in a JCC Jewish Book Festival epilogue event.

How to Share an Egg is the telling of Reichert’s dad’s survival story – a story he so wanted her to share. Experiencing years of difficulty putting pen to paper, she approaches it through her own journey with intergenerational trauma, which she has felt deeply from childhood. Her mother grew up with “a dad who was quick to anger” and an “exacting” mother who taught there was only one way to do things. “That this was the same person who rubbed my feet as I fell asleep seemed impossible,” writes Reichert about her efforts to reconcile her beloved baba with her mother’s mother.

Reichert’s maternal grandfather, who had come to Canada in 1913, died before she was born. On her paternal side, she had no grandparents – her dad was a 17-year-old orphan when he came to Canada in 1947. His parents and five sisters were all killed in the Holocaust. He was one of the 1,123 war orphans Canadian Jewish Congress helped enter the country when the doors were only just starting to open again for Jews.

The Jewish Independent spoke with Reichert by email about her memoir.

JI: You were 9 when your dad first mentioned the possibility that you would write his story. Then there was the trip to Poland in 2015 that was a breakthrough. When did you actually write the first words and, from that point, about how long did it take for you to write How to Share an Egg?

BR: The very earliest work on the book started on that first trip to Warsaw with my dad. I took a few notes and some important photos, but I didn’t yet know where I was headed. After the second trip to Poland, in 2016, I had even more research and notes, but I still wasn’t sure I had a book. The more formal outlining and writing began in late 2020, in the depths of the pandemic. Including the time I spent waiting for my editor’s feedback and the editing, the book took about four years to write. I was earning a master’s degree at the same time.

JI: You write about your personal journey with inherited trauma, and you share some of the healing milestones on that journey. In what ways was the process of writing the book cathartic?

BR: When you write a memoir like How to Share an Egg, your job is to look at yourself very closely, but with objectivity, because the self becomes the central character of the book. In that close examination, you come to name feelings you previously couldn’t name, and evaluate experiences and situations that your younger self might not have understood. All of this leads to greater understanding and greater self-compassion. This, coupled with the relief of finding a way to write this book my dad always wanted me to write, has indeed led to healing and catharsis.

JI: What does your dad think of the book?

BR: He loves it and says that it has given new meaning to his life at 95. A wonderful outcome.

JI: One theme of How to Share an Egg is you finding your voice, being able to stick up for yourself when bullied, to be yourself in the face of others’ expectations (notably, your father’s). From where did you get the courage to be this open?

BR: You can’t decide to write a memoir and then hide from the personal. Readers want to see all of that raw emotion on the page. For the memoir to be successful, the true, honest person in the book should resonate with the true person inside the reader. At a certain point, I realized all of this, and I came to see I was writing about the universal human experience and there is no shame in being human. In other words, I practised radical self-acceptance to get the job done.

JI: You comment in the book about pekeleh meaning both bundles and burdens. Judaism is full of those instances, holding joy and sorrow at the same time. Can you speak about that, in the context of How to Share an Egg?

BR: People often hold a pretty stereotypical idea of what Holocaust survivors and their families are like – severely traumatized, loaded down with psychological and emotional problems, etc. I wanted to address that – to challenge it and expand on it. There is sorrow and trauma, of course, but there is also so much joy and gratitude and celebration. So, the book is meant to express this fuller range of emotion. Part of my decision to write it as a food memoir was to offer the reader pleasure and comfort, even against the backdrop of the Holocaust. A Jewish approach, for sure.

JI: Hedy Bohm, who you mention in your memoir, just had her own survivor memoir published by the Azrieli Foundation. What is the importance of having these stories out in the world?

BR: Yes, I’m so happy for Hedy. She is a wonderful person. Preserving these stories has always been of the utmost importance – firsthand testimony is obviously critical. I also believe a plurality of stories and approaches brings the humanity back into the unfathomable numbers and statistics.

JI: How often have you been to Vancouver, and what are you looking forward to most about your March visit?

BR: I was just there in the fall for the Vancouver Writer Fest! I have friends I’m looking forward to seeing and I’m hoping for some nice weather so I can walk and admire your beautiful city.

For the full schedule and tickets to the book festival, go to jccgv.com/jewish-book-festival.

The power of photography

“Elaborate Pride Costume, Gay Pride,” Vancouver, 1996. (© Dina Goldstein)

One of the JCC Jewish Book Festival pre-festival events holds special meaning for the Jewish Independent. Photographer Dina Goldstein, whose artistry has focused on large-scale narrative tableaux the last many years, began her career with the JI’s predecessor, the Jewish Western Bulletin. She has compiled thousands of images from her work over the last three decades – as a photojournalist, editorial photographer, traveler and artist – for the recently published 400-page hard-cover The XXX Archive, which she will share with the community on Feb. 12, 7 p.m.

photo - Dina Goldstein talks about her new book, The Archive XXX, at a JCC Jewish Book Festival pre-festival event on Feb. 12 — Dina Goldstein talks about her new book, The Archive XXX, at a JCC Jewish Book Festival pre-festival event on Feb. 12. *(© Dina Goldstein)*

“I spent the pandemic going through containers of binders filled with negatives. Many of the images I remember snapping, but others that I found surprised me,” Goldstein told the Independent. “Editing the lot after 30 years of shooting was overwhelming at first. The process of archiving is slow and fastidious, often challenging my expeditious nature. I leaned in, not knowing how long or how many images I would be working with. Within two years, I scanned, photographed, numbered, printed and added over 3,000 images to a boxed and digital archive. The result left me relieved that my life’s work was now organized in a way that was documented and accessible.”

The word “herculean” is used in The Archive XXX to describe the task of creating the archive. Goldstein worked by year of creation, grouping the images by decades.

“I started with the early ’90s, when I first started my career and shot with black-and-white film,” she said. “Many of those images I had photographed for the Jewish Western Bulletin, my first job as an editorial shooter. I had special opportunities to meet and photograph many great people, like Elie Wiesel, Seth Rogen, Liz Taylor, Ruth Westheimer, Mordecai Richler, Jackie Mason, Bill Clinton.

“In the 2000s, I was working as a commercial and editorial photographer. I photographed mostly in colour and did some experimentation with processes. This is when I began crafting series of photographs. I spent two years at Hastings Racetrack and created Trackrecord. I expanded on my staged portraits with DAVID.

photo - Comedian Seth Rogen in his early days, 1997. Rogen is just one of many famous people that Dina Goldstein has photographed — Comedian Seth Rogen in his early days, 1997. Rogen is just one of many famous people that Dina Goldstein has photographed. (© Dina Goldstein)

“By 2006, digital photography was introduced as consumer cameras. Art directors were passing along assignments to less-qualified shooters and/or having the writer also take the pictures. I felt that I needed to pivot,” Goldstein said, adding that, by then, she was also a new mother and things in general were shifting.

“In 2007,” she said, “I began to focus on a new series inspired by my toddler daughter, who suddenly became obsessed with Disney princesses. This was a new way of creating narrative within my imagery. The series was a critical success, giving me the confidence to continue with this methodology.”

Although Goldstein mentions the making of her tableaux projects in The Archive XXX, she decided not to include the staged works within the compilation. “This is also because I continued enthusiastically photographing street, documentary and portraiture,” she said.

Over the 2010s, Goldstein was invited to show her work internationally at galleries, photo festivals and museums, and traveled extensively – to Europe, India, China, Korea, Taiwan, New Zealand and Australia. “So many of The Archive images come from my travels around the world,” she said.

The Archive XXX ends at the start of the pandemic, in the early 2020s. Of course, she has continued to create. Last fall, she presented a new staged photography series: Mistresspieces. Each of the 10 works features a famous female portrait from history placed in a modern-day challenge. For example, the goddess of Sandro Botticelli’s “The Birth of Venus” floats alongside a beach piled with the life jackets of those who have fled to European shores and Salvador Dalí’s “Galatea at the Moment of Creation” has Galatea surrounded by Amazon packages and melting icebergs in Goldstein’s reimagining.

Mistresspieces is Goldstein’s eighth tableaux series, including Fallen Princesses.

“The idea for Fallen Princesses came to me intuitively, when I realized the way that Disney was influencing my daughter,” she explained. “I decided to select well-known female fairytale characters and parachute them into modernity. I gave them all relatable challenges that play out within a familiar location. The methodology, production-based, was novel, as I no longer just depended on myself and my camera. This format is more collaborative and filmic, with lighting as an intricate skill. Thankfully, the project was successful online, in the media and in education. So, I discovered that I could still create critical work, with specific messaging amplifying my voice in the form of visual social commentary…. Now, in light of AI and the quick accessibility of image-making, I am looking to the future, making some tough decisions.”

Goldstein recognized the power of images at a young age.

“As a child, I would go through my grandmother’s photographs for hours at a time,” she said. “The postcard-like black-and-white photos of her, as a young woman in Romania, were not only beautiful but a window into her life. I would stare at an image and take it all in, her outfit, her shoes, the people she was with, the buildings behind her. Within these images, I discovered people and places throughout the decades of her life. As an adult, I have kept my camera beside me, just in case, it was a compulsion of sorts. I wanted to make pictures that would tell the story of my life as well. Perhaps not as the subject, but as the narrator. Today, mostly everyone suffers from the same need, with the readiness and ease of using a smartphone camera to document or to create an image.”

In The Archive XXX, there are photographs of such a diverse range of people, from presidents to Pride paraders, the famous and the often-overlooked. That Goldstein is comfortable around people, no matter who they are, is partly because of her father.

“My father was a very charismatic figure,” she said. “He was a product of the Second World War, uneducated but street smart. He was able to connect with people, all sorts of people. I understood that there is always something that you may have in common with another person. That’s a good starting point.”

Travel has also contributed to Goldstein’s ease around almost everyone in almost every situation.

“Traveling as a young person allowed me to open up to others, and trust that most folks are good people,” she explained. “My positive experiences as a young photographer were foundational for what the next three decades would bring, working with various diverse personalities. Becoming a mother made me more cautious with my assignments and travel. I certainly didn’t take as many chances or put myself in danger while my girls were little. I remember traveling in India and Colombia, both places I had to be extra aware.

photo - “Horse and Carriage,” Romania, 2006 — “Horse and Carriage,” Romania, 2006. *(© Dina Goldstein)*

“In general, I find that society is complex and divided. This became super-evident during the pandemic, and recently after Oct. 7, 2023. I was able to photograph the anti-vaxxer gang, where bizarre people came out of the woodwork. The Free Palestine bunch includes some of these types, and also an element of proud antisemites. When they first rallied, in big crowds, holding up signs ‘From the River to the Sea’ down Commercial Drive, I photographed it, slightly shocked, slightly sickened. I decided then that I could not personally or professionally continue to be there as a witness to this open hatred.”

A lot changed for Goldstein after Oct. 7, she said. “Losing friends that were once close, making new friends (mostly Jewish), actively fighting against anti-Jewish/Israel sentiment in my East Van neighbourhood and within the Vancouver arts community. This leads to the next chapter of my career, where I will focus more on my Jewish/Israeli identity and Ashkenazi Jewish heritage.”

Goldstein has written a TV series called Grimm Lane, which is based on Fallen Princesses. She is creating a new book with her narrative series Storyography and is also working on the TV series The Tribe, which is based on three Jewish families living in Toronto.

For more about The Archive XXX, Goldstein’s tableaux series and other work, visit dinagoldstein.com. To attend her JCC Jewish Book Festival talk, register at jccgv.com/jewish-book-festival-events/feb-12. The event is free to attend.

Sesame’s breadth and depth

I made my wife a rockstar carrot cake for her birthday last week. Thanks to the JCC Jewish Book Festival, I received a review copy of Sesame: Global Recipes & Stories of an Ancient Seed by Rachel Simons, which features a unique take on one of my wife’s favourite desserts. The Tahini Cream Cheese Frosting with Carrot Cake & Seed Brittle was a hit – as was every other recipe I tried from the book. Everything I made looked beautiful and tasted great.

New York-based Simons, founder of Seed + Mill, the first store in the United States to focus solely on sesame products, will be in Vancouver for a JBF pre-festival event Feb. 8, 7 p.m. Tickets are $20. (Go to jccgv.com/jewish-book-festival.)

Simons seems delightful, with a passion for gardening, family, travel and being an entrepreneur. In Sesame, she shares some of her background, what led her to become an expert in all things sesame – the seed, oil and paste (tahini). We also learn a bit about the history of sesame and tahini. There are 80-plus recipes, ranging in complexity, most accompanied by a brief introduction. The whole presentation is appealing: the book’s layout, the feel of its pages, the photography by Alan Benson and illustrations by Evelina Edens; credit is given to Maren Ellingboe King for some of the text.

Just before the recipe section, Simons notes how hard it was for her to write many of the recipes, as she tends not to follow recipes herself, and cooks more “by instinct and with lots of practice.” This is an important note because newbie cooks might have to Google pieces of information like how long it takes to bake a cake at 350˚F, because Simons doesn’t give any baseline, just writes “bake until a skewer … comes out clean.” Even with Google and Simons’ advice, I slightly undercooked my cakes. Yes, cakes. Somehow, though I’m positive I followed the recipe to a tee and the cake we ate tasted amazing, I had twice as much batter as I was supposed to have. (I froze the second cake.)

There were other, smaller surprises with each recipe. And every recipe took me longer to make than indicated. I often find that with cookbooks though – if I were to rinse and de-leaf my cilantro, parsley, etc., chop all the nuts, etc., in advance, then maybe I could make something within the allotted time, but instead I plan for it to take two to three times as long as suggested.

On the day I made the carrot cake, I wanted to leave as much guilt-free room as possible, so made the Thai-Inspired Tahini, Lime & Broccoli Salad. It was full of flavour, seasoned with tahini and lime, as per its name, as well as soy sauce, hot honey for a bit of bite, garlic, lots of cilantro and mint for freshness, peanuts and sesame seeds for protein and texture.

The next day, we had friends over and served Pistachio and Whipped Feta, with veggies and pita bread, as an appy. A couple of tablespoons of tahini, a bunch of cilantro, plus lemon juice and, especially, lemon zest made this dip disappear quickly.

Birthday day started with An Indulgent Middle Eastern Breakfast Toast, which was all its name promised. I couldn’t find labneh, so substituted in pressed yogurt. While the recipe said the sprinkle of Sweet Dukkah was optional, I’d argue it’s essential. All together, this rich, tangy, toasted, sweet treat demanded a second serving.

In all this cooking, I’ve stained several pages of Sesame and will, no doubt, stain others, as this book becomes one of my staples. I’ve already made a few other things that are not included here for space reasons, not taste reasons. It’s all yum.

AN INDULGENT MIDDLE EASTERN BREAKFAST TOAST
(serves one)

1 thick slice sourdough bread
1 tbsp labneh
1 to 2 tbsp tahini
1 tbsp honey or date syrup
1/8 tsp flaky salt
Shake of Sweet Dukkah (recipe below)

Toast the bread or leave it fresh, depending on your preference. Spread the labneh on the bread, then drizzle with the tahini and honey and finish with the flaky salt and Sweet Dukkah (if using). Serve immediately.

SWEET DUKKAH
(makes about 2.5 cups)

1 cup sesame seeds
1/2 cup pistachios, coarsely chopped
1/2 cup almonds, coarsely chopped
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground cardamom
1/2 tsp flaky salt
1/2 cup unsweetened coconut flakes
2 tbsp edible dried rose petals (optional)

1. Preheat the oven to 375˚F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper.

2. Spread the sesame seeds, pistachios and almonds on the baking sheet. Sprinkle with the cinnamon, cardamom and salt and toss to evenly combine.

3. Bake for 6 minutes, then give the baking sheet a vigorous shake to move the nuts and seeds around. Add the coconut and shake the sheet again. Return the mixture to the oven and bake until the coconut has turned golden brown, 4 to 6 minutes. Check regularly to make sure the dukkah isn’t burning.

4. Cool the dukkah completely on the pan before adding the rose petals (if using). Store in an airtight container in the pantry for up to two months.

Jews against Spanish fascism

The new historical novel by Vancouver writer David Spaner, Keefer Street, is as much about the idea of Keefer Street as it about the real East Vancouver avenue. This is appropriate, because the book is a reflection on the Spanish Civil War and its Canadian, especially its Jewish, volunteers. For the dead and the survivors, the war was a living hell. But for the survivors and anyone else with a direct or inherited memory of the 1936-39 conflagration, it is an idea. It has been called the Last Great Cause – and that is the underpinning of Spaner’s story.

Spaner takes part in the Feb. 26 JCC Jewish Book Festival event Jewish Fiction from Western Canada, in which Saskatchewan writer Dave Margoshes (A Simple Carpenter) is also featured.

Keefer Street toggles back and forth between the Spanish Civil War and a 1986 reunion of fighters and hangers-on (with occasional detours to family vignettes in other eras and areas). The storyline follows veterans of the Mackenzie-Papineau Battalion, the ragtag Canadian volunteers who made their way to Spain in direct defiance of their own government, joining American volunteers of the Abraham Lincoln Battalion, as well as French, Poles and others signing on in a pre-Second World War proxy against Hitler and Mussolini and their Spanish incarnation, Francisco Franco.

The narrator, Jake Feldman (later Jack Fields), is a Mac-Pap from the neighbourhood – that is, the Strathcona area of East Vancouver, specifically Keefer Street, where waves of immigrants have planted their first roots in Canada. By the time we join Feldman’s spirited (if predictably stereotypical) Jewish family, Strathcona’s Jews have already begun moving to the Oak Street corridor and its environs, but the Jewish element remains prominent among the multicultural milieu of the area.

Spaner, who has written extensively about Vancouver’s left-wing (see Solidarity: Canada’s Unknown Revolution of 1983, jewishindependent.ca/history-of-left-coast), list-ticks a raft of momentous and minor Vancouver signposts and events, including Stanley Park’s hollow tree, the Sylvia Hotel’s Jewish roots, the lost, lamented Woodward’s flagship department store, Theatre Under the Stars (still going), Eastside firebrand Rose Barrett and her boy Dave, the Carnegie Library turned Downtown Eastside community centre, and the blacklisted singer Paul Robeson singing at the Peace Arch for binational audiences.

Obscure local trivia is also tucked into the pages. The Industrial Workers of the World got their nickname Wobblies here in Vancouver. David Oppenheimer, Bavarian Jew, became the city’s second mayor and has an eponymous park in the Downtown Eastside where the fictional Feldman family frolics. Local gal Sadya Marcowitz became Mary Livingstone and married Jack Benny, going on to become a major radio star.

More momentous local events are introduced, including the On-to-Ottawa Trek, the 1935 Ballantyne Pier riots and the upheaval around the visit of the Nazi warship Karlsbad earlier that year.

The life of Jake/Jack takes on a bit of a Forrest Gump feel with his uncanny ability to be in the right place at the right time, such as when he just happens to be watching an amateur baseball game in Toronto when Nazis descend in what we know now as the infamous antisemitic (and anti-antisemitic counteroffensive) Christie Pits riots.

Keefer Street is sometimes a didactic (perhaps necessarily, given the times) 101 on antisemitism in Canada, including Toronto’s Swastika Club and Quebec’s philo-fascist Adrien Arcand.

The flashbacks feature the parents’ hardscrabble migrant experience and their engagement in the shmata and fur trades, as well as the moderately idyllic life of Vancouver kids and teens in the 1930s. Apparently before the advent of Netflix, something called “shooting pool” was a popular pastime.

Hindsight allows Jake to reflect on the legal proscriptions against enlisting with a foreign militia, then the social ostracism on their return due to the associations of Spanish partisans with communism, then McCarthyism, then the apathy and ignorance of the Me Generation and its aftermaths, in which successive generations don’t know the role the Spanish Civil War or its belligerents played in 20th-century history.

The 1986 reunion allows for the exploration of the emotions of former fighters, wondering what their impacts were and what their lives have become.

Jews played a major role in the Spanish Civil War, as Keefer Street’s central protagonists demonstrate. This was understandable as a first military salvo against fascism, but Spaner illuminates another massive historical consonance that may be overlooked.

“Along with everything else the Civil War stood for, it meant a Jewish return to Spain after centuries in exile,” says one of the characters at the reunion. “During the Spanish Inquisition of the 15th century, the country’s considerable Jewish population, though it had lived there for eons, was given the choice of conversion or expulsion. Many were expelled. In the 1930s, Jews returned to Spain, volunteering in disproportionately large numbers – over half of the American nurses, for instance, from a country three-point-something percent Jewish. One personal note. In 1937, I crossed the same ocean going to Europe that my parents had fled across, coming from Europe just a generation earlier. My parents fled the barbarism of pogroms, inquisitions. I came back to fight it.”

Says Spaner through his character Jake: “Funny how a short time can define a lifetime. For a lot of the volunteers, the Spanish Civil War years are the big memory but, when you think about it, the war lasted less than three years. I was there about a year-and-a-half and so much of it’s a blur.”

The JCC Jewish Book Festival runs Feb. 22-27. For tickets and the full schedule, visit jccgv.com/jewish-book-festival.

Campbell’s art at Zack

Artist Olga Campbell and her grandson Arlo, for whom Campbell wrote her memoir, Dear Arlo: Letters to My Grandson. (photo from Olga Campbell)

Recently, Olga Campbell published her third book, a memoir, Dear Arlo: Letters to My Grandson. Campbell’s new solo show with the same name opened at the Zack Gallery on Jan. 9. It features a selection of paintings and sculptures from the book, as well as a short film.

“The film starts the exhibition,” Campbell told the Independent. “It contains my photographs of Vancouver and its people. It is called Everybody Has a Story. The show and the book portray one of those stories – my story. But millions of other people have their stories, too, and, in the film, in my photos, I tried to tell some of those stories.”

Campbell said, “The book and the show are my answers to the questions my grandson asks. He is interested in our family’s past. We are very close, he and I. We just went to Nepal together. I thought I would write this book for him, as my legacy.”

The book does not concentrate exclusively on pain and tragedy, on the deaths of her family members in the Holocaust. It also celebrates the power of art and writing as a transformational and healing tool. Besides letters to her grandson, the book includes Campbell’s poetry and art, essays written by the artist, and her family’s traditional recipes. (See jewishindependent.ca/a-multidimensional-memoir.)

The Zack Gallery show is a subset of the book, a selection of paintings and sculptures the memoir highlights. The paintings are mostly collages based on the artist’s photographs. Each photo is Photoshopped into infinity, so none of the faces in the paintings have any resemblance to their origins. Campbell likes to experiment with images, looking at them from different perspectives, applying different approaches. Like her inner child who never grew up, she plays with them, making up different stories for different levels of perception.

One of the paintings, “Corridor of Memories,” has a couple of faces looking at the viewer with thoughtful, slightly anxious expressions. Behind those faces, a long corridor stretches into an unknown distance. The memories that come from that distance seem diverse and unsettling, a mix of positive and negative, but different for everyone.

image - “Corridor of Memories” by Olga Campbell — “Corridor of Memories” by Olga Campbell. (photo by Olga Livshin)

“There is bad there but there is also some good stuff there,” she said. “I played with the faces in that painting. I thought it would be interesting to make them three-dimensional. That’s how I came up with the sculptures in the show. They are the result of the images unfolding from 2D to 3D.”

Another painting that underwent a similar metamorphosis is “Shall We Dance? – self meeting Self.” Campbell explained: “I took this image from the confines of a frame and brought it to life by making it three-dimensional. The title, ‘self meeting Self,’ refers to the small self, the individual, the ego, meeting the Universal Self, and the ensuing dance of Self-discovery, joy and wonder of life.”

The 3D dancers – a thickened silhouette of the flat painted image beside it – rotate. They are accompanied by the song “Shall We Dance,” played by a tiny music box, when someone winds it up.

image - “The Sky is Falling” by Olga Campbell — “The Sky is Falling” by Olga Campbell. *(photo by Olga Livshin)*

Sometimes Campbell’s reconstruction of images results not in an additional dimension but in a deepening complexity of the original idea. In “The Sky is Falling,” she took a person’s outline from the painting beside it and embellished it with everything that she felt was relevant to our hectic lives. Unlike most of the other paintings in the gallery, there is no face in this one. The grey danger hangs over all of us, regardless of our facial features or skin colour.

“There are lots of similarities in our world today and the one that preceded WWII,” said Campbell. “That’s why I put a crow in that painting. A crow is a traditional symbol of death, but also of transformation, of change and the future.”

Like the book it is based on, the show is not linear. It reflects the artist’s response to various events in her life, both happy and sad, from her coming of age, to the current war in Ukraine. Both the memoir and the show emphasize Campbell’s personal journey through the beauty and the trauma of life, so inextricably entangled together.

At the gallery on Jan. 23, 7 p.m., Campbell will discuss her book and her art in an event co-presented by the Zack Gallery and the JCC Jewish Book Festival. Campbell’s exhibit will be on display until Jan. 27. To learn more, check out the artist’s website, olgacampbell.com.

Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer. She can be reached at [email protected].

Robinson kicks off book fest

The JCC Jewish Book Festival opens Feb. 22 with Selina Robinson talking about her memoir, Truth Be Told. (photo from JCC Jewish Book Festival)

This year’s JCC Jewish Book Festival opens Feb. 22 with Selina Robinson talking about her recently published memoir, Truth Be Told.

Most Jewish Independent readers will be familiar with the events that propelled Robinson to write this book. The first chapter, called “Four Fateful Words,” starts at what some people may think is the beginning – when, during a Jan. 30, 2024, webinar, Robinson said the state of Israel was reestablished on a “crappy piece of land.” But she believes she had been targeted for months.

“It was sloppy language, nothing more, but it provided the Gotcha! for anti-Israel extremists to build a case that I was racist, Islamophobic, intolerant and an evil monster that needed to be canceled,” she writes.

“In an ideal world, it would have been the extremists who were dismissed, not me. In an ideal world, we would be blessed with leaders who can differentiate between right and wrong.”

Truth Be Told covers the fallout from her comments. Premier David Eby initially seemed prepared to stand by Robinson, but the political pressure – including from a group of Muslim clergy who threatened the NDP’s access to Muslim voters unless Robinson was dismissed – soon led to him firing her from cabinet, though he never used the word.

“I told the premier that if he wanted my resignation, I would give it to him, but he needed to ask for it,” writes Robinson.

“In the end, he didn’t fire me and I didn’t resign, although the undeniable conclusion of the call was that I was no longer in cabinet.”

After taking some time to absorb the situation, Robinson rallied.

“As part of my t’shuvah [repentance], the premier asked that I make a series of calls to Muslim community leaders,” she shares. “I began to think: What if I could engage with these groups and bring the Jewish community and the Arab and Muslim communities together in some way? These two heartbroken communities, both fearful for their families overseas and feeling powerless to effect change, could find commonality in that shared experience, at the very least. Action is always an antidote to hopelessness and helplessness. I could do this as part of my role as an MLA and the government could take credit for doing something meaningful that makes a positive difference for both these aching communities. For me, this would be a profound form of redemption, of t’shuvah, and also of tikkun olam [repair of the world].”

But this ray of light was soon extinguished, the idea being deemed “too political.”

“I knew in that moment that this was no longer my place, no longer my government, no longer my political party,” writes Robinson. “A place and a party where I belonged would recognize the opportunity for someone who was seen to have transgressed to do some good. My place, my party, would recognize the value of bringing people together. A place where I belonged would not be afraid to try something unique and potentially powerful.”

Robinson quit the NDP and finished her term as an MLA as an independent. She was going to retire anyway, but this was not how she wanted her political career to end.

And it was quite a career. With a master’s degree in counseling psychology, Robinson spent most of her working life as a family counselor and in senior roles in various social service agencies.

“I never planned to enter politics,” she writes. “The first real engagement I had was speaking to Coquitlam City Council, my hands shaking, in support of an emergency cold weather refuge for homeless people proposed by a church in my neighbourhood.”

One of the councilors suggested she run for council, and she did. She was elected to Coquitlam City Council in 2008 and reelected in 2011. Truth Be Told gives readers a glimpse of what that experience was like, what Robinson accomplished as a councilor, and more. We find out how and why she made the leap to provincial politics in 2013 – a decision in which the late John Horgan played a pivotal role. The memoir is dedicated to Horgan, for whom Robinson had great respect and a close relationship. As premier, Horgan was the one who appointed Robinson minister of finance after the 2020 election that gave the NDP a majority government. She held that position through COVID, the government managing to file budget surpluses despite the challenges the pandemic brought.

“What saddens me right now is that people are losing faith in government,” writes Robinson. “That is especially distressing because if anything should have renewed people’s faith in government, it was the collective response to the pandemic.”

When Horgan stepped down as premier in 2022 because of the toll his cancer treatments were taking on him, Robinson began to more seriously reflect on her own future. She had been in public service for so long, she wanted to spend more time with her family. In Truth Be Told, we learn more of her own fight against cancer – a fight that started in 2006, a fight she seems to have won, finding out on Oct. 6, 2023, that her cancer had disappeared. The celebration was short-lived. That evening, news started coming in of Hamas’s terror attacks on Israel.

Robinson’s ambivalence about running for reelection was one of the reasons she didn’t pursue the party leadership vacancy Horgan’s departure opened. Other candidates bowed out, and Eby was anointed the new leader of the BC NDP and became premier in November 2022.

Robinson calls herself an “eternal optimist,” and that attitude has served her well. Despite being effectively demoted by Eby after he became premier, Robinson threw herself into the position of post-secondary education and future skills minister. It is interesting to read about some of the issues in that sector, and of the other portfolios Robinson held, as well as get some insider knowledge of how politics works and about the personalities of the people who represent us.

The crux of Truth Be Told is Robinson’s “four fateful words,” the reactions to them, and what was said and done – or, more importantly, what was not said and what was not done. Many of her colleagues were “quiet allies,” not willing to speak out.

“There are lessons from my experience that transcend my personal story,” she writes. “There are lessons for our democracy about the necessity to stand up to coercion from interest groups and harassment from mobs. There are lessons for leaders about how to act (and how not to act) when presented with choices between what is easy but wrong and difficult but right. There are lessons about speaking up rather than remaining silent.”

Truth Be Told is about a person doing what they passionately believe in, a person living their values – some of which were instilled at Camp Miriam, where Robinson was a counselor in her youth – and trying to make what they feel are positive contributions to the world.

Given what happened to her, Robinson could be forgiven for giving up and going quietly into obscure retirement. But that’s not who she is. She asks Canadians to have the courage to speak up, while recognizing that we should not “kid ourselves that a millennia-old problem will be resolved in a day.” She ends her book with calls to action, suggestions of what we each can do to counter antisemitism, as Jews (for example, don’t hide, “engage respectfully or not at all” and don’t give up) and non-Jews (speak up and engage with Jews, among other things), and as a society (for instance, protect students and nurture real inclusion). She includes some resources for readers wanting to explore various topics more.

In the “Final Reflections” chapter, Robinson writes, “We will never be perfect. The world will never be faultless. But repairing the world must always be our guiding star. Our reach must always exceed our grasp.”

Profits from the sale of Truth Be Told will be donated to the Parents Circle-Families Forum (theparentscircle.org/en) and Upstanders Canada (upstanderscanada.com).

The JCC Jewish Book Festival runs Feb. 22-27. For the full list of events and participating authors, visit jccgv.com/jewish-book-festival.

Kiki more than a muse

History is fickle. Who becomes known as great in their field, whose work is displayed in museums or taught in schoolbooks? When there is a tangible product – a building, a painting, a book, whatever – the chances seem higher that you’ll be remembered. But what if you were mainly a muse to others, what if you could enthrall audiences with your voice but never recorded an album, if you created works of art that people liked and even bought, but you didn’t create in the popular style of the day, or you were a woman in a man’s world?

Most readers will not have heard of Kiki de Montparnasse, born Alice Prin in 1901, in Châtillon-sur-Seine, about 240 kilometres southeast of Paris, to an unwed mother who wasn’t much into mothering. But most would likely recognize her – she modeled for many an artist (Alexander Calder, Tsuguharu Foujita, Amedeo Modigliani, to name a few, as well as Maurice Mendjizky, with whom she fell in love for awhile). And, during her seven-year relationship with surrealist photographer Man Ray (who thought himself more of a painter), she posed for him many a time. In 2022, one of Ray’s most famous images of her, called “Le Violon d’Ingres,” sold for $12.4 million, the most expensive photograph ever sold at auction.

Yet, what of her own work, her talents, her accomplishments?

Cultural historian Mark Braude gives Kiki her overdue due with his latest book, Kiki Man Ray: Art, Love and Rivalry in 1920s Paris, which Braude will discuss with University of British Columbia professor emeritus of history Chris Friedrichs at the JCC Jewish Book Festival on Feb. 24, in an event called Art & History: Paris, Jews and Surrealism.

While Kiki wasn’t Jewish, so many of the artists she hung out with were, including, of course, Ray, who was born Emmanuel “Manny” Radnitzky. If she hadn’t lived among the who’s who of Dada and Surrealist art, perhaps she wouldn’t have been overshadowed, mostly forgotten. She was a commanding performer, she sold at least a few dozen paintings, wrote a memoir, appeared in films. By all accounts, a success. But, as “Queen of Montparnasse,” the early-1900s bohemian paradise in Paris, Kiki lived on the more wild side. Addiction would speed along her end – she died in 1953, only 51 years old. Another reason, perhaps, that her legacy was not as lasting.

As much as Braude’s account is about Kiki, it is about the time in which she lived and the people among whom she lived. Because, “as she experienced her era and channeled that experience into her art, Kiki shared drinks and cigarettes and ideas with many of the people who would shape how their century saw and thought and spoke: Modigliani, Stein, Picasso, Barnes, Matisse, Guggenheim, Calder, Duchamp, Breton, Cocteau, Flanner, Hemingway,” writes Braude. “And Man Ray, whose emergence as a modern artist must be understood as intimately linked to her own.”

While Kiki may not have left much physical evidence behind of her influence, it doesn’t mean she wasn’t influential. Living as she did, with whom she did, Braude writes: “Evolving in concert with them, watching them become who they were, challenging them and joking with them, working with them and through them, Kiki, too, played her role in shaping the cultural history of the past hundred years.”

Braude’s book is not only a fascinating read, but a reminder that none of us is insignificant. Even if our names are lost to history, we matter, we impact others and the world around us.

For the full book festival schedule, visit jccgv.com/jewish-book-festival.

Writing the human condition

Maya Arad and Eshkol Nevo are featured in the JCC Jewish Book Festival prologue event Jan. 19.

The JCC Jewish Book Festival begins its 40th year with a discussion that’s sure to be as intriguing as it is relevant. The two Israeli writers featured in the festival prologue event Jan. 19 – Maya Arad and Eshkol Nevo – are keen observers and talented communicators, even as their characters are not.

Boundaries, generational differences, family, love, work, politics, social mores, and other themes run through both Arad’s (New Vessel Press, 2024) and Nevo’s Inside Information (Other Press, 2023). Each book comprises three novellas, though Nevo’s very loosely connects all the narratives, so dubs itself a novel, despite the stories being almost completely unrelated. Melancholic would best describe the mood of both works.

While the English version of Arad’s The Hebrew Teacher was published just this year – translated by Jessica Cohen – the Hebrew version came out in 2018. Its stories retain their immediacy, and readers will be able to relate to some aspect(s) of every one.

The title story, “The Hebrew Teacher,” is brilliant. When Ilana arrived in the United States from Israel in 1971 and started teaching, her Hebrew classes, both children and adult, at her synagogue and at the university, were packed: “Parents wanted their children to be able to chat in Hebrew, not just recite the prayers…. Everyone wanted to know a little Hebrew before they visited Israel. They wanted to learn the new songs.” Of course, those songs are far from new at this point in Ilana’s career, yet she still holds them and their visions of Israel dear.

But enrolment in the Hebrew-language university courses has been dropping for almost two decades, both because “Israel was a tough sell these days. It wasn’t the fledgling little country of 45 years ago. Nor was Ilana the same beaming young woman who’d arrived, thick copper braid over one shoulder, to regale the riveted students with stories about hiking from the Mediterranean to the Sea of Galilee, working on a kibbutz, and firing an Uzi when she served in the Israel Defence Forces.”

Into Ilana’s tenuous professional world – her husband has just retired from the university and other key allies have moved on – comes a new hire, Yoad Bergman-Harari, who’d been born Yoad Harari but had “added on his father’s original name, Bergman.” When Ilana asks why, he responds, “‘To negate the negation of the diaspora’ … as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.”

The differences in their worldviews – particularly on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict – and approach to collegiality are stark. While Ilana has taught at the university for decades, she holds none of the cards here, as Yoad is the latest newfangled intellectual thing, and a professor, so can pretty much write his own ticket, and does.

In “A Visit (Scenes),” Miriam comes to the States for a three-week visit with her only child, Yoram, his wife Maya and their son Yonatan. Miriam makes the journey because her son rarely returns to Israel and she has yet to meet her grandson in person. In a string of short snippets, mostly from Miriam’s perspective but also from Yoram’s and Maya’s, we are privy to what everyone is feeling – which boils down to a lot of unhappiness. The lack of honest, open communication contributes to the tensions and dissatisfactions, which build as the visit goes on.

The final story, “Make New Friends,” is kind of mystifying at first, as we watch Efrat, an educated, successful woman with a good husband, start to spiral as she tries to protect their unpopular teenaged daughter from being hurt by so-called friends. She gets way too involved, even entering the teen social media universe, and it’s only when Efrat realizes that she herself doesn’t belong to any group or have any real friends that she begins to understand her reactions (and actions) to her daughter’s situation.

One review of The Hebrew Teacher comments that Arad, in these novellas, “probes the demise of idealism and the generation gap that her heroines must confront.” This is an apt description. And it could be said that Nevo also explores the demise of idealism in Inside Information, which was translated from Hebrew into English by Sondra Silverston.

The first two stories of the novel have similar plotlines – men who are led by their sexual desires to act in illegal or inappropriate ways. The main difference between the protagonists is that the “hero” in “Death Road,” Omri, goes mostly willingly towards his potential downfall while Dr. Caro, the main character of “Family History,” tries to convince himself that he did nothing wrong.

In “Death Road,” while on a trip to Bolivia following the recent breakup of his marriage, Omri runs into newlyweds Ronen and Mor. Once back in Israel, he reads in the newspaper about the death of Ronen in a cycling accident in Bolivia. He decides to go to the shiva – as he drives there, his “mind filled with more and more images of Mor’s surprise nocturnal visit to my room two weeks earlier.”

As Omri lays out the story, he proves an unreliable narrator. Nothing ultimately ends up being what it seems at first. More details become known. Questions arise. It’s a thriller of sorts, but one that doesn’t seem all that original or urgent. There are twists but nothing that’ll stop readers in their tracks.

The femme fatale reappears in the next story, “Family History,” this time in the form of a young medical resident who supposedly mistakes the ostensibly paternal gesture of the respected Dr. Caro for sexual harassment and files a complaint that threatens the good doctor’s reputation. Even as Caro tells his story, he’s trying to convince himself as much as us about the purity of his motivations. But he’s a widower who obviously loved his wife, he seems well-liked at work and good at his job. He is a more empathetic character than Omri, and the twist in this story does elicit some surprise, and puts Caro’s actions into an even darker light.

The last part of the novel, “A Man Walks Into An Orchard,” is a direct rift on the talmudic tractate about four Jewish sages who went into pardes, which means both paradise and orchard, and only one came out unharmed. In Nevo’s story, husband and wife Ofer and Chelli go for one of their regular Saturday walks in the orchard. This Saturday, though, Ofer needs to pee, so he gives his phone to Chelli and goes into the trees, while she waits on the road. And waits. He never comes back. He is never found.

The way in which Chelli and her two children work through their loss is emotionally engaging. She and her son become estranged, while she and her daughter become closer as they search Ofer’s blogs for clues to his potential whereabouts. He had intended to complete 100 stories of 100 words each, and then publish a book. He had posted his 99th story the week before he disappeared.

There is something satisfying in this third tale, though it takes a detour into Chelli’s drug-induced visions to somewhat resolve the mystery of Ofer’s disappearance. It highlights our desire for things to make sense, to know what happened. When that’s impossible, storytelling can fill in the blanks.

The Maya Arad and Eshkol Nevo event on Jan. 19 takes place at 1 p.m., at the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver. Olga Campbell gives a talk on her memoir (jewishindependent.ca/a-multidimensional-memoir) and its exhibit on Jan. 23, 7 p.m., at the Zack Gallery. The book festival and the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre present a talk by Roger Frie on his book Edge of Catastrophe: Erich Fromm, Fascism and the Holocaust on International Holocaust Remembrance Day, Jan. 27, 7 p.m. The festival itself opens Feb. 22 – with Selina Robinson in conversation about her new memoir, Truth Be Told – and runs through Feb. 27. Events will be posted at jccgv.com/jewish-book-festival as they are confirmed.

Roots of Arab-Israeli conflict?

The historic milestones that led to the creation of the state of Israel are well known: Theodor Herzl’s Zionist congresses, the Balfour Declaration, the Partition Resolution, the War of Independence. Oren Kessler – who participates in the Cherie Smith JCC Jewish Book Festival on Feb. 13 – believes that a significant chunk of history has been largely overlooked and he sets out to right that wrong in his new book, Palestine 1936: The Great Revolt and the Roots of the Middle East Conflict. The Arab uprising of 1936 to 1939 in Palestine, he writes, “was the crucible in which Palestinian identity coalesced.” It also set in stone the intransigence toward Jewish self-determination in the region.

An Arab reaction to increased Jewish migration to Palestine – presaging both the potential for an eventual Jewish majority in the British-controlled Mandate and an even more alarming political outcome, a Jewish national homeland – inspired three years of Arab terror and British colonial repression, with the Jews inevitably caught between, argues Kessler.

Beginning with a series of strikes and protests in April 1936, the haphazard opposition to British rule and Jewish immigration was soon corralled and led by the notorious Grand Mufti of Jerusalem, Hajj Amin al-Husseini, into a mass movement of terror and anti-colonial (and anti-Jewish) violence.

While the British, on the one hand, hammered the Arab guerrillas – and plenty of civilians – they also rewarded that violence with policies such as those emerging from the 1937 Peel Commission report and the 1939 White Paper, both of which effectively caved to Arab demands by massively reducing Jewish immigration just as the Nazis were closing their fists across Europe. At the same time, the British left the Arabs unsatisfied by throwing tiny offerings to the Jews as a sign of compromise.

So unyielding was the mufti’s opposition to even considering Jewish migration that his Arab Higher Committee boycotted the various commissions’ hearings.

“Amid Hajj Amin’s boycott, no Arabs came forward,” writes Kessler. “Jerusalem Vice Mayor Hassan Sidqi Dajani, the mufti opponent who had once contemplated testifying, was found along the train tracks outside the city with two broken hands and two bullet holes in his forehead.”

In the end, the revolt was a disaster for everyone.

“The great revolt had exacted a withering toll on Palestine,” writes Kessler. “About 500 Jews had been killed and some 1,000 wounded. British troops and police suffered around 250 fatalities in their ranks. But the most onerous price of all was paid by the Arabs themselves: at least 5,000 – perhaps more than 8,000 – were dead, of whom at least 1,500 likely fell at Arab hands. More than 20,000 were seriously wounded.”

The Arab economy in Palestine was ruined, even as the Jewish economy hummed along.

Kessler’s thesis is that the events of 1936-1939 deserve to be recognized more as pivotal to the history of the region as a whole. There are also voluminous parallels and lessons for contemporary times in his review of that era.

The uprising did not, in the end, prevent Jewish national self-determination in Palestine. What it did prevent was a refuge for the Jews of Europe when they needed it most – and, for at least some of the players in this tragic drama, like the Hitler-allied mufti, perhaps that was a reward in itself.

The Cherie Smith JCC Jewish Book Festival runs Feb. 10-15. For tickets, visit jccgv.com/jewish-book-festival.