Celia Gurevitch Jewish Community Library

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

I am on a quest to find short enough stories that I can read for children in 20 minutes, with leaving enough time for interaction, having a positive message and lots of pictures for them to enjoy. This is how I came across The Children of Chelm, written by David A. Adler and illustrated by Arthur Friedman. It starts with three short paragraphs about the nature of the shtetl called Chelm. In case you are not familiar with it, its residents supposed to have a unique sense of logic. Some might call them slow, but I would prefer to call it complicated.

Then three stories, involving children, illustrated the point. The first one, The children and their baths, solves the problem that giving weekly bath to the children at the river is dangerous because they rambunctious noise draws the soldier there. In the second story, The day it snowed, the adults figure out a way to bring home the children form the school without having footprints on the fresh snow. In the final chapter, A new school of Chelm, they listen to a child’s advice how to bring down the big rocks from the mountain, after they were already down. These are all fun stories that give the children a moment to think what was wrong with the solution. My only (and slight at that) regret that the illustrations are black and white pen drawings. But at least the yellow paper they are printed on gives them some color. Either way they reflect the humorous nature of the stories.

Marilyn Singer‘s Minnie’s Yom Kippur Birthday is a great introduction to both (concepts and objects related to) synagogue and Yom Kippur. It contains the story of a little girl, Minnie, whose birthday falls on Yom Kippur this year. She is anticipating a party and even more special merriments, but for her great disappointment she gets none of the above all day. In the afternoon she is taken for the very first time to shul and the concept of atonement and teshuvah is also explained to her (and the target audience of young children) on a level she can understand and practice. The happy end cannot stay away either: after the communal breaking of the fast the whole community celebrates her birthday.

Ruth Rosner‘s lively watercolors on every page help bring the story to life. This is as much fun one can bring to Yom Kippur, while the serious nature of the Holy Day was repeated several times to ensure it is not misinterpreted.

Bernard Offen is a part-time resident of Sonoma County and is known to some of our members and to people at Sonoma State University. The review below was written by Susanne M. Batzdorff for the AJL Newsletter.

Offen, Bernard. My Hometown Concentration Camp: A Survivors’s Account of Life in the Kraków and Plaszów Concentration Camp. London , Portland , OR , 2008. xxxviii,

138 p. $24.95 (ISBN 978-0-85303-636-4, ISSN 1363-3759).

This is yet another of hundreds of personal stories written by Holocaust survivors. In his preface, Sir Martin Gilbert states: “The memoirs of each survivor throw new light and cast new perspectives on the fate of the Jews of Europe during the Holocaust. No voice is too small or humble to be heard… Each new memoir adds to our knowledge not only of the Holocaust but also of many aspects of the human condition that are universal and timeless.”

Bernard was not yet 11 years old, when he and his family were deported from his home in Krakow . Of more than 60 members of his family, only Bernard and his two older brothers survived. In simple words and with the help of co-author Norman G. Jacobs, the author opens the door to his sorrowful past.This book relates the horrific story of what happened to Bernard and his family, it serves as a guide to the Krakow of his childhood and the Krakow of today, and its final chapters deal with the slow and painful struggle of this survivor to deal with his losses and suffering and gradually discover new meaning and purpose in his life. Maps and photographs illustrate this narrative. Notes and a 6-page bibliography testify to the research that enhances Offen’s autobiographical account. Recommended for libraries with extensive Holocaust collections.

Susanne M. Batzdorff, Librarian (Retired) Celia Gurevitch Jewish Community Library at Congregation Beth Ami, Santa Rosa , CA .

In order to make it easier to find a title and to browse our DVD collection I changed the call numbers of the DVDs. The call numbers are the short combination of letters (and numbers) on the spine of the boxes. In the past they have followed the order we received the DVDs, i.e. we had “DVD 01″ for the longest time, followed by “DVD 02″ and so on.

In preparing the new system I first separated the documentaries from the feature films. Thus making it similar to our books, where you can find fictions in a different section of the library than the non-fiction. As you might have noticed the call numbers for novels start with “F” followed by the first few letters of the author’s name. The feature film DVDs follow now a similar system and their call number starts with D (signifying that it is a DVD, not a book), followed by an F and ending with the first three letters of the movie’s title. The call numbers for the documentaries are assigned similarly, except of course without the “F”.

When time permits the same system will be applied to our VHS tapes, with the additional category for children films. Here is the full list of the DVDs we currently have with their new call numbers (and the old in parenthesis). For more information about them check our DVD page:

Documentaries:

D Int: Into the arms of strangers: Stories of the Kindertransport (DVD 01)
D Her: Heritage: Civilization and the Jews (DVD 03-10)
D Rel: Relentless (DVD 02)
D Tri: The Tribe (DVD 11)

Feature films

D F Bro: Broken Wings (DVD 18)
D F Edg: Edges of the Lord (DVD 16)
D F Est: Esther Kahn (DVD 12)
D F For: For your consideration (DVD 19)
D F Fre: Free Zone (DVD 13)
D F Ked: Kedma (DVD 20)
D F Kee: Keeping Up With the Steins (DVD 17)
D F Mon: Monsieur Ibrahim (DVD 15)
D F Mun: Munich (DVD 21)
D F Wal: Walk on Water (DVD 14)
D F Yel: Yellow Asphalt (DVD 22)

The cover of Yussel’s Prayer: a Yom Kippur story spells out that Barbara Cohen is not the author, but a reteller of this story. I discovered this after I read the (Sydney Taylor award winning) book that felt familiar. It reminded me of the Baal Shem Tov story, where a simple, but honest Jew did not know the words of the prayer, but because of his pure heart reciting the alphabet was sufficient to be heard by G-d. Here we have a simple, but honest lad, who is not allowed to go to the shul for Yom Kippur and is asked to tend the cows instead. Meanwhile the whole village is praying and towards the end of the day they are waiting for the rabbi to start the closing prayer, n’ilah. The rabbi waits till he hears the simple melody from the boy’s flute, because that is the only prayer he heard all day, that helped to open the gates of heaven (so it could be closed again.

I am a bit confused about the lesson of the story. It is obviously intended to emphasize the importance of kavvanah, devotion and attention when praying. I say obviously because it describes in details what all the other people at shul were thinking of instead of paying attention to the words of the prayers. The reason I am confused is that I am used to the idea in children’s books that both the good guys and the not-so-good guys get what they deserve. Here the boy’s price is that he is invited for dinner, which is fine compared to his social status. But all those people who did not have their hearts set on their prayers just walk away freely. Even the one who learns the importance of the lesson, Reb Meir, was not reprimanded.

My confusion shows my personal limitations. I am aware of the pedagogical advantages of using only positive reinforcement. I also saw that in Hasidic communities this is practiced. As the book describes such a congregation it follows the same idea: focusing on the positive and neglecting to punish negative behavior explicitly in the hope that the positive examples will teach the culprits. Now, that I worked it out, I am less confused. Thank you for listening/reading.