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April 20, 2007

In honor of Yiddish women

Arguing with the Storm anthology launched at the Peretz Centre.
DANA SCHLANGER

It's a good thing for Jewish Vancouver, but it started in Winnipeg. The women of the leyenkrayz, the Winnipeg Women's Yiddish reading circle, became so invested in the literary gems produced by professional women writers in the extensive Yiddish collection of the Winnipeg Jewish Public Library that they initiated translations of those otherwise lost stories.

Brought back to life by public readings, translations and the passion to make them available to a non-Yiddish-speaking audience, the stories, whose "words tell us much about ourselves," were the reason that poet and University of British Columbia creative writing professor Rhea Tregebov took on the task of editing Arguing with the Storm, an anthology of stories by Yiddish women writers. After three years of intensive work, the new book was launched April 12 at the Peretz Centre for Secular Jewish Culture.

The real connection to the content of this publication comes from the commitment that the leyenkrayz and Tregebov made during their work "to maintain an inclusive vision, to embrace the wit, humor, satire and compassion of Yiddishkeit, as well as its tragedy." The anthology has a down-to-earth, basic human nature tone that gives the stories instant and direct appeal.

When read aloud, the stories' appeal is apparent in the audience's reactions to the vivid visual imagery of the shtetl (as in "No More Rabbi!" by Sarah Hamer-Jacklyn, translated and read by Roz Usisikin), or the subtle psychological love-hate relationship between the Yemenite cleaning woman in Jerusalem and her Ashkenazi employer (in the story "Rumiya and the Shofar" by Rikuda Potash, translated by Chana Thau and read by Tregebov). But a word of caution, as Helen Mintz writes in her preview (published in Outlook magazine), "anyone who approaches this anthology seeking to enhance feelings of sweet nostalgia about Jewish life in Eastern Europe will be sadly disappointed." Indeed, there is a lot of poverty, backwardness and even occasional cruelty in these stories, though these are almost unfailingly balanced by the smile beneath the tears, the warm compassionate chuckle or the downright sarcastic humor. There is a pervading sense of the absurd of some situations, always rendered with a tongue-in-cheek attitude that is quite typical of Eastern European Jewish culture.

Clearly, the shtetl lies deep in the soul and brain-wiring of all these writers; however, many of them emigrated from Eastern Europe to Canada and the United States – and, with the move, came new tensions and challenges. Usually associated with even more poverty, language barriers and a difficulty to fit in, the immigration experience brought along an additional challenge described in some of the stories: the growing cultural gap between old-world parents and their Americanized, modernized adult children. The shift in priorities – the change of mentalities and the struggle with the concept of "honoring thy parents" – is the central theme of stories like "A Guest" by Sarah Hamer-Jacklyn (translated by Esther Leven) and "Letter to God" by Chava Rosenfarb (translated by Goldie Morgantaler).

And the meaning of the phrase "arguing with the storm"? Therein lies the metaphor, explains Tregebov in the preface to the anthology. It is the image of the Jewish woman, mother, fighter and survivor, as found in Rokhl (Rachel) Korn's poem "My Home," published in 1937.

"The poem speaks of how Korn's young widowed mother divided her years between her fields and her three children," writes Tregebov. "When the storm threatens both, then she would hide us in a corner far away from the lightning in the windows, chimneys and doors, and we could hear her voice arguing with the storm."

Dana Schlanger is a Vancouver freelance writer.

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