Men against the Desert By Ritchie Calder. Pp. 186 + 27 plates. (London: George Allen and Unwin, Ltd., 1951.) 12s. 6d. net.
THERE HAVE NEVER BEEN MANY OF us; WE were a few thundreds, out of so many thousands of deportees, when, thirty years ago, we brought back to Italy and showed, to the astonished surprise of our dear ones (those of us who still had them), the blueish Auschwitz number tattooed on our left arms. Then it was true what Radio London used to say; it was literally true what Aragon had written. “…marque comme un betail, et comme un betail a la boucherie.” Now only a few dozen of us are left: perhaps we are too few to be listened to, and furthermore we often have the feeling that we are looked upon as troublesome storytellers; sometimes, even, a strangely symbolic dream becomes reality, a dream that often came to us in our prison nights: the listener does not hear us, does not understand, his mind wanders, he goes away and we are left alone… And still we must speak; it is a duty to companions who did not return, and it is a task that confers a meaning on our survival. We have happened to live through (not through an...
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Jerusalem is where I've found the greatest inspiration; it's also where I've known the worst despair. I long for its golden light, its champagne air, the intensity of its daily life and the tranquillity that descends on the city every Friday evening as shabbat is ushered in. But now Israel is hornlocked in conflict, trapped by fear and anxiety. Jewish history is riddled with traumatic episodes, and the same is true for the Palestinians. Haunted by such painful memories, Jews and Arabs have become vulnerable and volatile, hearing each other through a veil of emotional scars. But actually they're all shouting at the past.
There is at present a new interest in Jankel Adler's works. Next year, the prestigous Museum of Tel-Aviv will be holding a major retrospective of his works. The same exhibition will be later shown at the Museum in Frankfurt. In the sale-rooms too, private collectors are showing a greater eagerness to acquire Adlers…The following piece was written over thirty y ears ago in Yiddish and was at the time published in the literary quarterly Dee Goldene Keyt. Frank Pomeranz has recently translated it into English and I am taking this opportunity to thank him for his labours. I thought it necessary to make some alterations from the Yiddish original text, leave out some passages and add some new lines. For these alterations Mr. Pomeranz cannot be held responsible. J. H.
