Stutthof
My grandmother was a blinder.*
Even with her glasses
she had to hold the newspaper close to her face
before the candle in the middle of the table.
I wonder if she understood
that the injection seeping into her
at the infirmary in the Camp
was poison or if she thought
she’d be cured and sent back
with her daughters to work
and someday go back to her kitchen
to read the newspaper.
*near-sighted actually
january 27, 2022 – international Read Post »
So the title isn’t really accurate. But last night, as I tossed and turned in my bed, kept awake not only by the lightning and heavy rain but also by the fear that I wouldn’t wake up in time to get to the hospital in time for my echocardiogram at 7, I kept thinking about my granddaughter – who is dying to see the snow falling up north and in Jerusalem. Her father has corona and Ezi has shingles and by the time I get through with the test and the dentist after, the snow will be gone. By 6:30 I was ready to leave and the phone rang. The secretary wanted to tell me that the doctor tested positive and my appointment was canceled. Unfortunately, I turn my phone off until 7.
And so the day continued. I was bundled up as I have never been before in Israel – and the sun came out. At home, Ezi reset the new computer and it worked fine, so he canceled the technician who was on his way over to change the motherboard. Then the computer broke down again. A new television was delivered and finally installed, but doesn’t work with our internet system. The new broken vacuum cleaner, we are told, will not be fixed under warranty.
But all these incidents I put down to Kappara, that is the small troubles that take the place of the big ones. After all, today is International Holocaust Remembrance Day, and when I turn my mind to that from the pain of my granddaughter to thoughts of whether my grandmother knew that she was being injected with poison in the health clinic of Stutthopf, I pray that our lives will be filled with these little contretemps, and we will be able to get through them with a smile.
And that is why my favorite line in literature remains Nabokov’s praise of the mathematician Lobochevsky who discovered that “If parallel
lines do not meet it is not because meet they cannot but because they
have other things to do.”
january 27, 2022 – sturm und drang Read Post »
And here is the poem:
I used to go with my mother to pick chickens for slaughter
I don’t know how she chose them or brought them to the shoichet.
But there they’d be when we got to the shed by the cages,
Hanging from pegs on the ceiling and waiting to bleed dry.
I’d always focus on the plucker’s quick fingers,
The feathers flying like weightless snow
And his fiery torch burning the bumpy taupe skin
That with no effort suddenly resembled my own.
Then at home they’d be dissembled,
The organs, unborn eggs, all pieces examined.
Little spleen, fingers of fat, dear yellow feet,
Laid out on the kashering board,
aslant against the wall of the sink.
Friday evening we’d meet again,
In each of the courses:
Broiled liver ground together with rendered fat,
Blurred as separate beings and members,
Helping me to forget yesterday’s origins.
Next the soup, the essence of sacrifice refined
With orbs of yolk in a promise to come.
But it was the wings that make it all special for me,
Put in my plate with the survivor’s reminder
to fly from the market to the depth of my poems.
january 26, 2022 – snow and chicken soup Read Post »
it took me forever to write this title, so i’m not going to quibble about the fact that the year disappeared.
We bought a new computer – because my old one is incredibly slow and unwieldy. And even though the camera shows all the mess in the corner of my study, I was happy with its speed. But then, the new computer started shutting down in the middle of a zoom – and I’d move back to connect on the old computer, that I stubbornly refused to part with. And now, Ezi, who can barely stand up with the pain from his shingles in his back, has spent the day on the phone with Mohammed, who is instructing him about resetting, rewiring, renewing the old computer. It won’t work by the time I have a zoom in a few hours, and I’ll probably have to include Mohammed and Ezi in the event. Moreover, Michael, who was supposed to be handling the technical issue of the zoom, has just handed over the reins to me. So I’ll be hosting and pulling the strings at the same time. On the creaky old computer.
Oh, yes, our TV went two days ago. The few pleasures of staying at home all the time are being denied us. With a little wink, I remind you of the first verse of Samuel Johnson’s Elegy on his friend Dr. Robert Levet.
january 25, 2022 – Zooms and Motherboards Read Post »
NOW? Now they’re talking about it? Over 20 years ago my neighbor and I went crazy over the fact that our building didn’t seem sufficiently supported, and we had the base strengthened. Neither of us was satisfied, and now the standards have changed, but the engineer we spoke with last month predicted that in our neighborhood it wouldn’t matter.
We’ve had earthquakes all along in Tel Aviv. I remember writing in these pages about standing in my sister-in-law’s kitchen and watching the refrigerator move.
In other words, the hysteria now is at least 20 years too late. And I think it takes a long time and a lot of money to prepare building codes and to make sure everyone is safe.
january 24, 2022 – earthquakes – continued Read Post »
As if we hadn’t had enough, as if we hadn’t done enough damage to ourselves and our environment and our neighbors, as if we haven’t had enough trouble from the covid and the extreme weather, our earthquakes are coming back. 90 odd years ago hundreds died around here from quakes, but now I think we are a bit better prepared. Maybe not.
january 23, 2022 – earthquakes Read Post »
This is where I get to explain the poems I wrote in Yiddish, translated to Hebrew, then English.
https://us02web.zoom.us/j/86129499226?pwd=b2VTQlBuWVJaZnZWV1J5VS9nY2dDUT09
january 7, 2022 -Invitation to explain Read Post »
How can one not go out into nature on a sunny shabbat afternoon? We were about to take a trip up north, the possibility of seeing a grandchild and a daughter encouraged us to change ouhr plans and go down the street to the nature reserve. Everyone else seemed to have the same idea, and we couldn’t decide if we had to wear masks because of the crowds or breathe fresh air for our health.
And indeed the confusion is apparent in every aspect of our lives. Someday someone will study the differences in the traffic accidents in this period for example. The lack of understanding and patience, in addition to the increased nervousness, make for stupid mistakes. And this is true for many aspects of our lives now.
Take this father we came into contact with today, for example, We found a stone to sit down off the path, and made sure to keep Ezi masked and at a distance. But a snot-nosed baby from a nearby picnic crawled over to play next to him. We moved Ezi over, but it wasn’t far enough away. And the father neither came over to take the baby, nor asked us if there was a problem with his playing next to us. As if we weren’t wearing masks, as if there was no rule about social distance. And we didn’t have the sense of the proper social conduct of the moment. We didn’t know what to say to the father. So we had to leave our comfortable place and move on. This would not have happened in a normal situation – at the very least I would have wiped the kid’s nose. More likely we would have all played with him, picked him up, given him an item to play with.
Had the social rules of today been clear, the father would have kept the child from the vulnerable old man.
I have the feeling this is true on all levels of society – and this has affected the workings of the governments, the army, the medical profession, et al.
january 22, 2022 – living in confusion Read Post »
