Celia Gurevitch Jewish Community Library

On October 13, 1881 (127 years ago today, hence my post) Eliezer Ben-Yehuda and his friends decided to speak Hebrew exclusively, marking the beginning of the revival of the language in modern times. Rabbi Malka Drucker wrote this extraordinary Lithuanian Jewish medical student’s life story in the “Jewish biography series,” titled “Eliezer Ben-Yehuda: The father of Modern Hebrew.” As an introduction and appetizer let me quote two paragraphs from the author’s short essay about the topic of the book:

All beginnings are hard, and the language of Torah was not a language that could be spoken. In fact, it was like Latin, a dead language, until a man of extraordinary passion, singlehandedly resurrected it as a modern, spoken language. Growing up in Russia, Ben-Yehuda was a brilliant yeshivah student whose passion for the Hebrew language had little to do with religion. The nationalism he saw rising in Europe convinced him that it was time for the Jewish people to revive their native land and language. Only a 20 year-old could believe that he could forge a movement of seven million Yiddish-speaking Jews to leave Europe and speak a new language.

Ben-Yehuda knew that Hebrew had once been the daily language of his people. They told jokes, sold horses, and courted each other in this language. When the Temple was destroyed and they were scattered throughout the world, they abandoned Hebrew for the language of their respective countries. Hebrew was reduced to sacred texts and prayer. It became a substitute for the land of Israel, a sweet reminder of a time when Jews were safe and proud of their place in the world.

Here is how the Sukkah in the yard of CBA looked like Sunday morning:

A few hours later the children finished decorating it:

Right now (Monday 3 PM) it looks like this, after the palm leaves were added:

If you’ve been around Jewish books in the US, then you are familiar with Philipp Goodman’s anthologies. He, often with his wife, had put together thick and rich anthologies on most of the holidays, including on Purim, Passover, Shavuot, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Hanukkah and one even on Jewish marriage. Each of these volumes is about 500 pages and covers thoroughly their topics. But today I only want to talk about “The Sukkot and Simhat Torah anthology“, also edited by him. The best way to show the breadth and depth of the work is to list its chapters:

1. Sukkot in the Bible
2. Sukkot in postbiblical writing
3. Sukkot in Talmud and Midrsah
4. Sukkot in medieval Jewish literature
5. Sukkot and Simhat Torah in Jewish law
6. Sukkot and Simhat Torah liturgy
7. Hasidic tales and teachings
8. Sukkot and Simhat Torah in modern prose
9. Sukkot and Simhat Torah in art
10. The development of the festival
11. The Sukkah
12. The four species
13. Sukkot and Simhat Torah in many lands
14. Sukkot and Simhat Torah in poetry
15. Sukkot and Simhat Torah in the short story
16. Sukkot and Simhat Torah miscellany
17. Sukkot and Simhat Torah humor
18. The festival delicacies
19. Children stories for Sukkot and Simhat Torah
20. Poems for children
21. Programs and activities
22. Dances for Sukkot and Simhat Torah
23. Music for Sukkot and Simhat Torah

Each of these chapters contains so many stories, poems, and references that it is impossible to cover the richness in a short review. Let me just give you an example that spoke to me (from page 95):

Every year Rabbi Zusya of Hanipol invited many simpletons and ignoramuses to his sukkah. When asked why he extended hospitality to such people, the sage replied, “In the future world, where the righteous will dwell in the Tabernacle of Eternal Peace, I will also want to be among them. I fear that I may not be permitted to enter the Tabernacle, because it is unseemly that a lowly person like me can be on the same level as the righteous; therefore, I am establishing a just claim for myself. If the angels ask me, ‘How can you, an ignorant man, expect to be admitted into the Sukkat Shalom?’ I will be able to reply, ‘I welcomed simple people into my sukkah.’”

Don’t let the classification foul you, Malka Drucker’s “Sukkot: a time to rejoice” is a great introduction to the holiday not just for children, despite that you will find this book in their section. It “discusses the longest and happiest holiday season in the Jewish year, and explains the customs, history and meaning connected with it. It includes games, recipes, puzzles and a glossary of terms.” It may be just 100 pages, but it covers all relevant information about the holiday. It may have black and white picture in it, but ten of them are photographs, dozens are drawings, and there are also scores of artworks from previous eras and illustrations from older books. For example at the bottom of this post you will see “The Sukkah” by Moritz Oppenheim from 1865. In short this is not just an informative book, but fun too.

Reviewed by S Miller
Yellow Asphalt, a Film by Danny Verete, is startling story of how western culture infiltrates the Judean desert, once home of the Bedouin tribes. The desert story depicts scenes where Israeli and Bedouin converge. There are three main sub themes happening: an accident on the highway by a Israeli petroleum truck, a frightful marriage between a German woman and her Bedouin husband and lastly a forbidden love affair between an Israeli and his Bedouin maid.

The filmmaker shoots on location with the participation of the Bedouin tribe “Jahalin”. Seeing this film is disappointing as it shows the true human condition and their weaknesses. Most of the Israeli main actors are depicted with their dark side. I don’t want to give the movie away, but ‘Yellow Asphalt’ is a metaphor for placing a highspeed highway where it does not belong. The Highway’s link to modern civilization changes the livelihood of the Israeli’s who live in the desert, but more the culture of the Bedouins. The audience is given a glimpse of how Bedouin society is governed, the role of women and tight grip of their culture in spite of living side by side to a western culture. The movie is shocking, but has an important story to be told.

Ellie Gellman: Tamar’s Sukkah

Most of this 32 page booklet is filled with images printed in simple, pleasant 5 colors, drawn by Katherine Janus Kahn. They accompany the story that goes along at the bottom of the pages, 2-3 lines at a time. It tells the story of Tamar, who kept feeling that something was missing from the Sukkah she helped to build in the backyard. She collects her friends one by one who put together everything that is required for a proper Sukkah: “walls and a roof, branches and decorations, table and chairs, snacks and juice… and friends.” This sweet little volume is appropriate for toddlers.

Barbara Diamond Goldin: Night lights: A Sukkot Story

This book would be much less fearsome without Louse August’s oil and pastel paintings. But as the story mostly revolves around Daniel, a young boy trying to overcome his fear of the dark, it looks pretty stark. Daniel challenges himself and his sister to sleep this time without fear in the Sukkah, unlike last year, when only grandpa’s signing could help them to fall asleep. After not being able to convince his father to put real roof on their Sukkah and after having a nice warm family meal out there comes the night. These pages are filled with black ages and monstrous dogs and bear (with the text in white to provide enough contrast for legibility.) Eventually they fall asleep and all is well, and our protagonists grew a little again through their experiences. The last page has an explanation about the meaning and history of the Sukkah. The book was written for children age four and above, but I think an adult should make sure that they do not get too scared by it and reach the happy end. I.e. do not get stuck in the dark middle section

Patricia Polacco: Tikvah Means Hope

The book was inspired by the true events of a devastating fire in Oakland in the early 1990’s, where 25 people died and 3400 homes were destroyed. But the focus of the book is on the Sukkah which was built and used right before the fire broke out. Several days later, when the people could return they saw that the Sukkah miraculously did not burn down, so they celebrated altogether the festival in it. The other miracle, referred to in the title was the survival of a cat called Tikvah, the word meaning hope in Hebrew. According to the author’s website the book is aimed for children between 4 and 8, but I would recommend reading it for the upper end of the spectrum.

Sadie Rose Weilerstein: K’Tonton’s Sukkot Adventure

K’tonton (meaning very, very little), the thumbsized son whose arrival blessed a couple late in their life, was introduced in this book by Weilerstein,and was followed by at least four others: in the circus, in Israel, Yom Kippur kitten, on an island in the sea. His miraculous birth was connected to Sukkot as the mother had to bite of the ritual etrog on the last day of the holiday to conceive. A few years later he climbs into the etrog box his father carries to the synagogue so he could see it for the very first time. Once there he gets out, marvels at its beauty, climbs on the top of the lulav, but gets discovered when his shrilling voices joins the prayers. That’s about the whole storyline. A short glossary at the end helps to decipher the Hebrew words and phrases for the uninitiated. This feature and the sweet story makes it a good introduction for children aged 3 to 6 to concepts like, etrog, hosahnot, lulav… Joe Boddy’s black and white drawings are well integrated into the book.

The tone and mood for my High Holy Days introspection was set up and tuned to the poem Susanne Batzdorff recited at the very beginning of the first (Erev) Rosh Hashanah service. As I learned later she not just read, but also wrote the poem. Susanne graciously agreed to share it on the library blog. There are no better words to wish you a meaningful fast for Yom Kippur than hers.

I AM WHAT I AM. P. 73 (By Susanne Batzdorff)

I do not visualize G’d
In royal robes, seated
Upon a throne. That image
Resembles human kings and princes.

I do not think we ought to
Create G’d in our own image,
with human features, human foibles,
A being such as we might meet
On a mountain trail,
Or on a bus or train.
Nor do I relate very well
To the concept of a belligerent G’d,
Angry and jealous,
Hungry for praise or prayer,
Disappointed if we don’t flatter
Or fawn upon Him,

I seek a G’d that does not resemble people,
A G’d that is stillness, power,
Love, compassion, concern.
I don’t expect G’d to show me His face.
People have faces, not G’d.

G’d cannot speak to me; he has
No human voice. But I sense G’d sometimes
In the silence, the warmth, the joy,
G’d speaks to me in the still, small voice within.
He is in my every heartbeat or breath,
In the tear, in anguish, in laughter.

G’d is neither you nor I,
Nor looks like you or me.
When we have grasped this truth,
We need no longer worry
About calling G’d “He” or “She.”

For G’d is faceless, soundless
And quite beyond our poor,
Puny power to define Him,
Beyond imagination on the human scale.
Yes, we recognize this. And yet
There are times when we simply must
Talk to G’d and beg Him to answer.

G’mar chatimah tova!

This blog reached a minor milestone with this post. It is the 200th message we post. Quantity of course does not equal quality, but we hope that most of our messages provided some value for you. Thank you for your continued support, dear readers and patrons.

I like to think that my book reviews provide new insights or at least originate from me. It is a relatively easy task when writing about books of which there are no, or only a few reviews available. It is considerable harder for popular novels, such as Jenna Blum’s Those Who Save Us. For example LibraryThing.com has 20 reviews and Amazon.com has 84. So instead of going the individualistic road I am going the other direction. I pick some of the questions from the official reading guide, available from the author’s site and share my related impressions, on this exciting pageturner novel.

But first I need to share the story in a nutshell. Here it is, straight from the back cover

For fifty years, Anna Schlemmer has refused to talk about her life in Germany during World War II. Her daughter, Trudy, was only three when she and her mother were liberated by an American soldier and went to live with him in Minnesota. Trudy’s sole evidence of the past is an old photograph: a family portrait showing Anna, Trudy, and a Nazi officer, the Obersturmführer of Buchenwald. Driven by the guilt of her heritage, Trudy, now a professor of German history begins investigating the past and finally unearths the heartbreaking truth of her mother’s life.

And now some Q and A

1. How would you categorize Those Who Save Us: as a war story, a love story, a mother-daughter story?
One of the strengths of the book is that it is not just one of these but contains most of the above. It is definitely a war and a mother-daughter story. But I am not sure to what extent it is a love story, hence the “almost” part. Yes, there is a love story in the first few dozen pages, and the fruit of that love is Trudy. But the relationship described in the rest of the book is not love. At least not in the traditional sense. A main theme of the book, to explore what it is and how it affected the rest of Anna’s life. Hint: it devoured her from the ability of true love, hence I would call it an “unlove” story instead.

2. In what ways do the characters save each other in the novel, and who saves whom?
The Obersturmführer saves Anna and Trudy from starvation and possible death during the war years. On the other hand Anna saves him from loneliness. Anna and her ex-boss Mathilde saves Jews in the camp by providing food and information. Later in the US, Anna tries to save her daughter from the shadows of the past by not telling her about it. This venture is less successful though, as Trudy has to deal with unconfirmed shadows, shame and suspicions as the result of non-communication. Jack, Anna’s American husband saves the mother and daughter from punishment after the war as collaborators with the Nazis. There are further “savings” prompted by and involving side characters too, which I won’t have time to go into now.

3. Do you see Anna’s beauty as a blessing or a curse?
Always these either/or questions. Of course it is both, depending on the situation. In her life though it is more of the latter. It draws attention to her and in wartimes, which is full of ravenous soldiers it can be dangerous.

4. Why does Mathilde take this risk of feeding the Buchenwald prisoners?
Because she still has a balanced moral value system. It is a bit more complex than that though as she has to weigh in the risk against the benefits when making such decisions as whether to risk her life to bring more bread or not. For her staying human was more important than staying alive.

5. Do you see the Obersturmführer as a monster or as human?
Again, both. The art of being a monster, which he very much was, is compartmentalization. He did not see Jews as humans therefore he had no problem of killing and torturing them. This corrupted his petty soul and blinded his senses to the extent that he believed he was in love with Anna and the feeling was reciprocal. He was human in the sense that he needed human warmth and feeling of being part of a family, but he was a monster by not recognizing that forcing such things do not work on the long term and they are not the real thing.

There are many more questions in the guide, but I also wanted to include a meaningful quote from the book itself. Here it is from page 402

Look, Rainer says.
Trudy does. She sees nothing out of the ordinary: the gray-white lake, the overcast sky a darker gray above it, the dense black calligraphy of branches on the far shore. Behind them is a brilliant lemon-colored slash of light that somehow has the effect of making the afternoon seem even colder than it is. The wind rushes ceaselessly over the ice, teasing water from Trudy’s eyes; her cheeks will be bright red when she and Rainer get back indoors. But this is also thrilling, like being, Trudy thinks, on the deck of a ship embarked on an Arctic expedition.
A brace of geese flies overhead, returning from some warmer clime, honking.
What is it I’m supposed to be looking at? Trudy asks. Rainer chuckles and puts his arms around her from behind. This is our problem, Dr. Swenson, he says into her hair. You think too much. Stop it. Don’t think. Don’t talk. Just look. Be.

Do you remember the first time you fasted on Yom Kippur? Was it around the year you had your bar/bat-mitzvah. It sure was not for Harry and his little sister in Barbara Cohen’s First fast. Harry, who was ten at the time of the story, wagered with an older boy that he can go fasting all day. He did it because he wanted finally to play with the bigger boys; he was tired with playing with girls. Or as he corrected himself, he was tired playing girls’ games with them. The wager turned serious and he managed to keep his promise.

What he and his sister, who is telling the story, did not expect was getting a spiritual experience. The books goes on describing the whole day, picking words from prayer book that was suddenly filled with meanings for them. They realized that fasting is easier if they pay attention to the service and try to follow it. It is a great preparation and encouragement for children of the same age to try to participate in Yom Kippur any way they can, written in a simply and eloquent style. I particularly liked the Al Chet segments included, because once can reflect on those even at such a young age.

With this book I finished the reviews of all the story books we have for children about Yom Kippur. As a reminder here are the other three:

Singer: Minnie’s Yom Kippur birthday
Cohen: Yussel’s Prayer
Levitin: A sound to remember