Books – Page 2

How Jews are indigenous

Last month, Ben M. Freeman spoke about his latest book, The Jews: An Indigenous People, as part of Kolot Mayim Reform Temple’s 2024/25 speaker series. (PR photo)

Ben M. Freeman, founder of the modern Jewish Pride movement, spoke from his home in London, England, about his work and ideas in a Zoom webinar on Jan. 12. Titled Building Jewish Pride and Recognizing Jewish Indigeneity, the virtual event was hosted by Victoria’s Kolot Mayim Reform Temple.

The author of Jewish Pride: Rebuilding a People and Reclaiming our Story: The Pursuit of Jewish Pride, Freeman’s latest, The Jews: An Indigenous People, will be released this month.

Freeman began by calling into question the perception that indigeneity implies people who have lived on the land and are primitive or oppressed.

“I have great issue with that because the idea of those things being inherent is to destroy the great diversity of the indigenous experience,” he said.

The United Nations, he explained, set up seven criteria used to determine the indigeneity of a people to a particular land. Freeman, in his writings and talks, argues that Jews are indigenous to the land of Israel even by the UN’s criteria.

“[The UN] also created rights for indigenous people: the ability to have self-determination, the ability to practise your own religion, have your own language, all of these different things. But, again, many of them are still rooted in this idea that indigenous people are inherently oppressed,” he said.

“We’re not here to say that indigenous people have not experienced oppression. That would be ludicrous. Many indigenous groups do experience that, but we can’t necessarily say these things are inherent….”

To view certain groups as only victims, he contended, strips them of agency. Freeman would define an indigenous people, rather, as a group whose collective identity begins in one specific land, and it is in that land they remain rooted either physically, spiritually or culturally.

“This is their home and is where they originated, developed and continue to be fixed through a connection to the environment and natural resources, living systems, culture and practice as a people, irrespective of their sovereignty in the land,” he said.

This definition, Freeman believes, not only applies to Jews in Israel but also refers to the experiences of the Maori in New Zealand and First Nations in Canada, and other peoples in other countries.

From his perspective, Jews were a small group of tribes that developed into a civilization over time. The Torah played a large part as it codified Jewish civilization by taking practices that already existed, reshaped some of them and retold some of the stories, creating a culture that contains religion.

“Almost all the practices were rooted in the land. Pesach was two different festivals: one was a matzah festival and one was a sacrifice festival. Rosh Hashanah, our new year, was the beginning of the agrarian year. Shavuot is an agricultural holiday,” Freeman said.

“One of the odd experiences of being Jewish is that we exist in this cognitive dissonance almost because we will describe ourselves officially in many ways as a religion, but then we have so much of our practice rooted in land.”

Freeman also put forward that a distinguishing characteristic of Judaism is that, unlike Christianity, it can be a religion but not exclusively a faith or creed.

“Christianity has creed. My partner is a Christian and I sometimes ask him, ‘Could you be a Christian without believing in Jesus?’ And he’s like, ‘no.’ We don’t have that,” said Freeman. “That’s why you can have atheist, secular or agnostic Jews who are part of Am Yisrael. There is nothing we have to believe to be Jews.”

Freeman went on to discuss Jewish pride, which, for him, bears three central tenets. The first is to encourage and empower Jews to reject the shame of antisemitism – to wear one’s Jewishness as a badge of honour.

The second point is to repudiate non-Jewish definitions of Jewish identity.

“I just feel it’s so egregious to me that non-Jews think they have a right to tell us what it means to be Jewish or any aspect of that experience. This is my identity. I will tell you what it means to be a Jew,” he said.

The third tenet is for Jews to go on a journey to explore their identity through a Jewish perspective. “We have to be able to say this is who we are,” he said, “but we have to humbly accept that takes time. We need to be doing real work to investigate our Jewishness and then, most importantly, [do it] through a Jewish lens.”

Freeman is scheduled to travel to Canada in March to discuss The Jews: An Indigenous People, with appearances in Toronto, Windsor and Edmonton. His schedule may include stops in Ottawa and Vancouver, as well.

Next up in the Kolot Mayim 2024/25 lecture series, on March 2, 11 a.m., is Jonathan Bergwerk, author of the Audacious Jewish Lives books, who will speak about Jewish innovators who changed the world. Go to kolotmayimreformtemple.com to register.

Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.

Robinson kicks off book fest

The JCC Jewish Book Festival opens Feb. 22 with Selina Robinson talking about her memoir, Truth Be Told. (photo from JCC Jewish Book Festival)

This year’s JCC Jewish Book Festival opens Feb. 22 with Selina Robinson talking about her recently published memoir, Truth Be Told.

Most Jewish Independent readers will be familiar with the events that propelled Robinson to write this book. The first chapter, called “Four Fateful Words,” starts at what some people may think is the beginning – when, during a Jan. 30, 2024, webinar, Robinson said the state of Israel was reestablished on a “crappy piece of land.” But she believes she had been targeted for months.

“It was sloppy language, nothing more, but it provided the Gotcha! for anti-Israel extremists to build a case that I was racist, Islamophobic, intolerant and an evil monster that needed to be canceled,” she writes.

“In an ideal world, it would have been the extremists who were dismissed, not me. In an ideal world, we would be blessed with leaders who can differentiate between right and wrong.”

Truth Be Told covers the fallout from her comments. Premier David Eby initially seemed prepared to stand by Robinson, but the political pressure – including from a group of Muslim clergy who threatened the NDP’s access to Muslim voters unless Robinson was dismissed – soon led to him firing her from cabinet, though he never used the word.

“I told the premier that if he wanted my resignation, I would give it to him, but he needed to ask for it,” writes Robinson.

“In the end, he didn’t fire me and I didn’t resign, although the undeniable conclusion of the call was that I was no longer in cabinet.”

After taking some time to absorb the situation, Robinson rallied.

“As part of my t’shuvah [repentance], the premier asked that I make a series of calls to Muslim community leaders,” she shares. “I began to think: What if I could engage with these groups and bring the Jewish community and the Arab and Muslim communities together in some way? These two heartbroken communities, both fearful for their families overseas and feeling powerless to effect change, could find commonality in that shared experience, at the very least. Action is always an antidote to hopelessness and helplessness. I could do this as part of my role as an MLA and the government could take credit for doing something meaningful that makes a positive difference for both these aching communities. For me, this would be a profound form of redemption, of t’shuvah, and also of tikkun olam [repair of the world].”

But this ray of light was soon extinguished, the idea being deemed “too political.”

“I knew in that moment that this was no longer my place, no longer my government, no longer my political party,” writes Robinson. “A place and a party where I belonged would recognize the opportunity for someone who was seen to have transgressed to do some good. My place, my party, would recognize the value of bringing people together. A place where I belonged would not be afraid to try something unique and potentially powerful.”

Robinson quit the NDP and finished her term as an MLA as an independent. She was going to retire anyway, but this was not how she wanted her political career to end.

And it was quite a career. With a master’s degree in counseling psychology, Robinson spent most of her working life as a family counselor and in senior roles in various social service agencies.

“I never planned to enter politics,” she writes. “The first real engagement I had was speaking to Coquitlam City Council, my hands shaking, in support of an emergency cold weather refuge for homeless people proposed by a church in my neighbourhood.”

One of the councilors suggested she run for council, and she did. She was elected to Coquitlam City Council in 2008 and reelected in 2011. Truth Be Told gives readers a glimpse of what that experience was like, what Robinson accomplished as a councilor, and more. We find out how and why she made the leap to provincial politics in 2013 – a decision in which the late John Horgan played a pivotal role. The memoir is dedicated to Horgan, for whom Robinson had great respect and a close relationship. As premier, Horgan was the one who appointed Robinson minister of finance after the 2020 election that gave the NDP a majority government. She held that position through COVID, the government managing to file budget surpluses despite the challenges the pandemic brought.

“What saddens me right now is that people are losing faith in government,” writes Robinson. “That is especially distressing because if anything should have renewed people’s faith in government, it was the collective response to the pandemic.”

When Horgan stepped down as premier in 2022 because of the toll his cancer treatments were taking on him, Robinson began to more seriously reflect on her own future. She had been in public service for so long, she wanted to spend more time with her family. In Truth Be Told, we learn more of her own fight against cancer – a fight that started in 2006, a fight she seems to have won, finding out on Oct. 6, 2023, that her cancer had disappeared. The celebration was short-lived. That evening, news started coming in of Hamas’s terror attacks on Israel.

Robinson’s ambivalence about running for reelection was one of the reasons she didn’t pursue the party leadership vacancy Horgan’s departure opened. Other candidates bowed out, and Eby was anointed the new leader of the BC NDP and became premier in November 2022.

Robinson calls herself an “eternal optimist,” and that attitude has served her well. Despite being effectively demoted by Eby after he became premier, Robinson threw herself into the position of post-secondary education and future skills minister. It is interesting to read about some of the issues in that sector, and of the other portfolios Robinson held, as well as get some insider knowledge of how politics works and about the personalities of the people who represent us.

The crux of Truth Be Told is Robinson’s “four fateful words,” the reactions to them, and what was said and done – or, more importantly, what was not said and what was not done. Many of her colleagues were “quiet allies,” not willing to speak out.

“There are lessons from my experience that transcend my personal story,” she writes. “There are lessons for our democracy about the necessity to stand up to coercion from interest groups and harassment from mobs. There are lessons for leaders about how to act (and how not to act) when presented with choices between what is easy but wrong and difficult but right. There are lessons about speaking up rather than remaining silent.”

Truth Be Told is about a person doing what they passionately believe in, a person living their values – some of which were instilled at Camp Miriam, where Robinson was a counselor in her youth – and trying to make what they feel are positive contributions to the world.

Given what happened to her, Robinson could be forgiven for giving up and going quietly into obscure retirement. But that’s not who she is. She asks Canadians to have the courage to speak up, while recognizing that we should not “kid ourselves that a millennia-old problem will be resolved in a day.” She ends her book with calls to action, suggestions of what we each can do to counter antisemitism, as Jews (for example, don’t hide, “engage respectfully or not at all” and don’t give up) and non-Jews (speak up and engage with Jews, among other things), and as a society (for instance, protect students and nurture real inclusion). She includes some resources for readers wanting to explore various topics more.

In the “Final Reflections” chapter, Robinson writes, “We will never be perfect. The world will never be faultless. But repairing the world must always be our guiding star. Our reach must always exceed our grasp.”

Profits from the sale of Truth Be Told will be donated to the Parents Circle-Families Forum (theparentscircle.org/en) and Upstanders Canada (upstanderscanada.com).

The JCC Jewish Book Festival runs Feb. 22-27. For the full list of events and participating authors, visit jccgv.com/jewish-book-festival.

Kiki more than a muse

History is fickle. Who becomes known as great in their field, whose work is displayed in museums or taught in schoolbooks? When there is a tangible product – a building, a painting, a book, whatever – the chances seem higher that you’ll be remembered. But what if you were mainly a muse to others, what if you could enthrall audiences with your voice but never recorded an album, if you created works of art that people liked and even bought, but you didn’t create in the popular style of the day, or you were a woman in a man’s world?

Most readers will not have heard of Kiki de Montparnasse, born Alice Prin in 1901, in Châtillon-sur-Seine, about 240 kilometres southeast of Paris, to an unwed mother who wasn’t much into mothering. But most would likely recognize her – she modeled for many an artist (Alexander Calder, Tsuguharu Foujita, Amedeo Modigliani, to name a few, as well as Maurice Mendjizky, with whom she fell in love for awhile). And, during her seven-year relationship with surrealist photographer Man Ray (who thought himself more of a painter), she posed for him many a time. In 2022, one of Ray’s most famous images of her, called “Le Violon d’Ingres,” sold for $12.4 million, the most expensive photograph ever sold at auction.

Yet, what of her own work, her talents, her accomplishments?

Cultural historian Mark Braude gives Kiki her overdue due with his latest book, Kiki Man Ray: Art, Love and Rivalry in 1920s Paris, which Braude will discuss with University of British Columbia professor emeritus of history Chris Friedrichs at the JCC Jewish Book Festival on Feb. 24, in an event called Art & History: Paris, Jews and Surrealism.

While Kiki wasn’t Jewish, so many of the artists she hung out with were, including, of course, Ray, who was born Emmanuel “Manny” Radnitzky. If she hadn’t lived among the who’s who of Dada and Surrealist art, perhaps she wouldn’t have been overshadowed, mostly forgotten. She was a commanding performer, she sold at least a few dozen paintings, wrote a memoir, appeared in films. By all accounts, a success. But, as “Queen of Montparnasse,” the early-1900s bohemian paradise in Paris, Kiki lived on the more wild side. Addiction would speed along her end – she died in 1953, only 51 years old. Another reason, perhaps, that her legacy was not as lasting.

As much as Braude’s account is about Kiki, it is about the time in which she lived and the people among whom she lived. Because, “as she experienced her era and channeled that experience into her art, Kiki shared drinks and cigarettes and ideas with many of the people who would shape how their century saw and thought and spoke: Modigliani, Stein, Picasso, Barnes, Matisse, Guggenheim, Calder, Duchamp, Breton, Cocteau, Flanner, Hemingway,” writes Braude. “And Man Ray, whose emergence as a modern artist must be understood as intimately linked to her own.”

While Kiki may not have left much physical evidence behind of her influence, it doesn’t mean she wasn’t influential. Living as she did, with whom she did, Braude writes: “Evolving in concert with them, watching them become who they were, challenging them and joking with them, working with them and through them, Kiki, too, played her role in shaping the cultural history of the past hundred years.”

Braude’s book is not only a fascinating read, but a reminder that none of us is insignificant. Even if our names are lost to history, we matter, we impact others and the world around us.

For the full book festival schedule, visit jccgv.com/jewish-book-festival.

Writing the human condition

Maya Arad and Eshkol Nevo are featured in the JCC Jewish Book Festival prologue event Jan. 19.

The JCC Jewish Book Festival begins its 40th year with a discussion that’s sure to be as intriguing as it is relevant. The two Israeli writers featured in the festival prologue event Jan. 19 – Maya Arad and Eshkol Nevo – are keen observers and talented communicators, even as their characters are not.

Boundaries, generational differences, family, love, work, politics, social mores, and other themes run through both Arad’s (New Vessel Press, 2024) and Nevo’s Inside Information (Other Press, 2023). Each book comprises three novellas, though Nevo’s very loosely connects all the narratives, so dubs itself a novel, despite the stories being almost completely unrelated. Melancholic would best describe the mood of both works.

While the English version of Arad’s The Hebrew Teacher was published just this year – translated by Jessica Cohen – the Hebrew version came out in 2018. Its stories retain their immediacy, and readers will be able to relate to some aspect(s) of every one.

The title story, “The Hebrew Teacher,” is brilliant. When Ilana arrived in the United States from Israel in 1971 and started teaching, her Hebrew classes, both children and adult, at her synagogue and at the university, were packed: “Parents wanted their children to be able to chat in Hebrew, not just recite the prayers…. Everyone wanted to know a little Hebrew before they visited Israel. They wanted to learn the new songs.” Of course, those songs are far from new at this point in Ilana’s career, yet she still holds them and their visions of Israel dear.

But enrolment in the Hebrew-language university courses has been dropping for almost two decades, both because “Israel was a tough sell these days. It wasn’t the fledgling little country of 45 years ago. Nor was Ilana the same beaming young woman who’d arrived, thick copper braid over one shoulder, to regale the riveted students with stories about hiking from the Mediterranean to the Sea of Galilee, working on a kibbutz, and firing an Uzi when she served in the Israel Defence Forces.”

Into Ilana’s tenuous professional world – her husband has just retired from the university and other key allies have moved on – comes a new hire, Yoad Bergman-Harari, who’d been born Yoad Harari but had “added on his father’s original name, Bergman.” When Ilana asks why, he responds, “‘To negate the negation of the diaspora’ … as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.”

The differences in their worldviews – particularly on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict – and approach to collegiality are stark. While Ilana has taught at the university for decades, she holds none of the cards here, as Yoad is the latest newfangled intellectual thing, and a professor, so can pretty much write his own ticket, and does.

In “A Visit (Scenes),” Miriam comes to the States for a three-week visit with her only child, Yoram, his wife Maya and their son Yonatan. Miriam makes the journey because her son rarely returns to Israel and she has yet to meet her grandson in person. In a string of short snippets, mostly from Miriam’s perspective but also from Yoram’s and Maya’s, we are privy to what everyone is feeling – which boils down to a lot of unhappiness. The lack of honest, open communication contributes to the tensions and dissatisfactions, which build as the visit goes on.

The final story, “Make New Friends,” is kind of mystifying at first, as we watch Efrat, an educated, successful woman with a good husband, start to spiral as she tries to protect their unpopular teenaged daughter from being hurt by so-called friends. She gets way too involved, even entering the teen social media universe, and it’s only when Efrat realizes that she herself doesn’t belong to any group or have any real friends that she begins to understand her reactions (and actions) to her daughter’s situation.

One review of The Hebrew Teacher comments that Arad, in these novellas, “probes the demise of idealism and the generation gap that her heroines must confront.” This is an apt description. And it could be said that Nevo also explores the demise of idealism in Inside Information, which was translated from Hebrew into English by Sondra Silverston.

The first two stories of the novel have similar plotlines – men who are led by their sexual desires to act in illegal or inappropriate ways. The main difference between the protagonists is that the “hero” in “Death Road,” Omri, goes mostly willingly towards his potential downfall while Dr. Caro, the main character of “Family History,” tries to convince himself that he did nothing wrong.

In “Death Road,” while on a trip to Bolivia following the recent breakup of his marriage, Omri runs into newlyweds Ronen and Mor. Once back in Israel, he reads in the newspaper about the death of Ronen in a cycling accident in Bolivia. He decides to go to the shiva – as he drives there, his “mind filled with more and more images of Mor’s surprise nocturnal visit to my room two weeks earlier.”

As Omri lays out the story, he proves an unreliable narrator. Nothing ultimately ends up being what it seems at first. More details become known. Questions arise. It’s a thriller of sorts, but one that doesn’t seem all that original or urgent. There are twists but nothing that’ll stop readers in their tracks.

The femme fatale reappears in the next story, “Family History,” this time in the form of a young medical resident who supposedly mistakes the ostensibly paternal gesture of the respected Dr. Caro for sexual harassment and files a complaint that threatens the good doctor’s reputation. Even as Caro tells his story, he’s trying to convince himself as much as us about the purity of his motivations. But he’s a widower who obviously loved his wife, he seems well-liked at work and good at his job. He is a more empathetic character than Omri, and the twist in this story does elicit some surprise, and puts Caro’s actions into an even darker light.

The last part of the novel, “A Man Walks Into An Orchard,” is a direct rift on the talmudic tractate about four Jewish sages who went into pardes, which means both paradise and orchard, and only one came out unharmed. In Nevo’s story, husband and wife Ofer and Chelli go for one of their regular Saturday walks in the orchard. This Saturday, though, Ofer needs to pee, so he gives his phone to Chelli and goes into the trees, while she waits on the road. And waits. He never comes back. He is never found.

The way in which Chelli and her two children work through their loss is emotionally engaging. She and her son become estranged, while she and her daughter become closer as they search Ofer’s blogs for clues to his potential whereabouts. He had intended to complete 100 stories of 100 words each, and then publish a book. He had posted his 99th story the week before he disappeared.

There is something satisfying in this third tale, though it takes a detour into Chelli’s drug-induced visions to somewhat resolve the mystery of Ofer’s disappearance. It highlights our desire for things to make sense, to know what happened. When that’s impossible, storytelling can fill in the blanks.

The Maya Arad and Eshkol Nevo event on Jan. 19 takes place at 1 p.m., at the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver. Olga Campbell gives a talk on her memoir (jewishindependent.ca/a-multidimensional-memoir) and its exhibit on Jan. 23, 7 p.m., at the Zack Gallery. The book festival and the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre present a talk by Roger Frie on his book Edge of Catastrophe: Erich Fromm, Fascism and the Holocaust on International Holocaust Remembrance Day, Jan. 27, 7 p.m. The festival itself opens Feb. 22 – with Selina Robinson in conversation about her new memoir, Truth Be Told – and runs through Feb. 27. Events will be posted at jccgv.com/jewish-book-festival as they are confirmed.

Revisiting magic in Victoria

Linda Dayan Frimer signs books at the Indigo in Victoria’s Mayfair Mall. (photo by David J. Litvak)

Victoria has always been a magical place for BC artist and author Linda Dayan Frimer. She has exhibited her art at the Empress Hotel and participated in a concert with the Victoria Symphony Orchestra. It was an agent from Victoria who helped kickstart her career and, more recently, she connected with the Victoria editor who worked on her latest book, Luminous. On a trip this fall to Victoria to promote that book, Frimer rekindled her special relationship with British Columbia’s capital.

“Victoria is a place of very special memories and wondrous new happenings for me and my art,” said Frimer.

Recalling her early days, she said, “My large watercolour paintings depicting the landscape of British Columbia, placed in the window of Northern Passage Gallery by the owner and my Victoria-based art agent Valerie Pusey, seemed to fly out the door in swift succession.”

Pusey “was astonishing in helping my art champion many causes,” said Frimer. Those causes included Margaret Laurence House for women leaving an abusive partnership, breast cancer research, and arts and science benefits. With Pusey’s help, Frimer was chosen as the first artist to represent the Trans Canada Trail, with her painting “The Golden Journey, 5000 Miles of Freedom.” That long-ago concert with the Victoria symphony was a fundraiser, with Frimer being invited to paint on stage just behind the orchestra.

“Hearing the symphony inside my heart while painting in harmony with them was an exquisite experience,” Frimer shared.

Frimer’s memoir, Luminous: An Artist’s Story as a Guide to Radical Creativity, follows the history of her ancestors from Romania, Lithuania and Russia, as they experienced cultural turmoil and fled to North America, and delves into the stories of renowned artists and the artworks they produced in response to social injustice and war. The book includes exercises designed to help readers connect with these artists, and to inspire readers to get in touch with their own inner artist and the art of their own story. (See jewishindependent.ca/how-to-be-radically-creative.)

photo - A painting by Linda Dayan Frimer from her “Wonder” series, which is in Luminous. At a recent signing, a young girl was entranced by this series and Frimer’s art — A painting by Linda Dayan Frimer from her “Wonder” series, which is in Luminous. At a recent signing, a young girl was entranced by this series and Frimer’s art. *(image from Linda Dayan Frimer)*

While Frimer has traveled across North America promoting Luminous, this recent trip was her first event in Victoria promoting it. As people passed by the table where Luminous was displayed at Indigo in the Mayfair Mall, they couldn’t help but notice it. One young fan could not take her eyes off it.

“My book was blessed by the appearance of a little 7-year-old girl who appeared at my signing table,” said Frimer. “She began to turn each page of the book intently. After a few minutes, her mother asked her if she would like to go to the toy department. No, she responded, I want to stay right here. She seemed mesmerized by each colour-filled page and, as she pointed out her favourite painting, entitled ‘Wonder,’ I felt a rush of awe. When her mother returned after some time shopping, I gifted the little girl my book and when she received the book, she hugged it tightly. Her mother was in tears and said to us that this was a seminal moment in her daughter’s life that would guide her future.”

Frimer was moved by the encounter.

“This was the best gift my life and art could receive – for I know that each of us is the artist of our own story and, when we are inspired to reach the foundational core of ourselves, we discover true meaning and purpose,” she said. “That afternoon, I realized that, if I had only written my book to bring wonder to this little girl, it had served its purpose.”

In addition to the event at Indigo, Frimer got together with Ellen Godfrey, the editor of Luminous, and Pusey while she was in Victoria.

“I vividly recall my first glimpse of Linda Dayan Frimer’s artwork and my feeling of awe at the interplay of emotion and passion, intelligently expressed through paint on paper,” said Pusey. “That glimpse confirmed all that critics had previously observed: her distinct ability to cultivate colour, light and motion within the watercolour medium. Linda Frimer’s artwork is so fundamentally powerful that it transcends esthetic beauty to express a depth of spiritual awareness and sensitivity. Her message is one of reverence for all of creation.”

During the rest of Frimer’s time in Victoria, seeds were planted for a future event at Congregation Emanu-El and possibly an artist residency at one of the local hotels. For more information about Frimer and her work, visit lindafrimer.ca.

David J. Litvak is a prairie refugee from the North End of Winnipeg who is a freelance writer, former Voice of Peace and Co-op Radio broadcaster, “accidental publicist,” and “accidental mashgiach” at Louis Brier Home and Hospital. His articles have been published in the Forward, Globe and Mail and Seattle Post-Intelligencer. His website is cascadiapublicity.com.

A multidimensional memoir

With her latest book, Olga Campbell sets out to leave a legacy, one that encompasses the trauma of the past but also the richness of the present and hope for the future.

Dear Arlo: Letters to My Grandson is Campbell’s third book. Her first, Graffiti Alphabet, comprised photographs of graffiti she found around the Greater Vancouver area. Her second, A Whisper Across Time, was her family’s Holocaust story.

The first essay in Dear Arlo is about Campbell’s parents, Tania and Klimek. They lived in Warsaw. “They were surrounded by family and friends and had much to look forward to,” writes Campbell. “Then, in 1939, everything changed. The Nazis invaded Poland from the west, the Soviets from the east. Life as they had known it stopped.”

Klimek would be arrested by the Soviets first, a pregnant Tania two weeks later. They were sent to different Russian prison camps. They survived, but the baby didn’t, nor did any of Tania’s family, most notably, her twin sister and parents, Campbell’s maternal grandparents.

“Several months after their release from the prison camps, my parents found themselves in Baghdad, Iraq,” writes Campbell. “By that time, my mother was pregnant with me and could go no further. I was born in Baghdad on February 14, 1943.”

Eventually, after living in both Palestine and the United Kingdom, the family came to Canada. It wasn’t an easy life, learning a new language and new culture, or a long one for Campbell’s mother, who died at 52 of cancer.

image - A page from Olga Campbell’s memoir Dear Arlo: Letters to My Grandson, which features letters, art, poems, essays and recipes — A page from Olga Campbell’s memoir Dear Arlo: Letters to My Grandson, which features letters, art, poems, essays and recipes.

Campbell shares her stories and wisdom with readers as a grandmother speaking to her only grandson, Arlo, with whom she obviously has a special relationship.

“I am writing this book as a legacy for you,” she writes in the first letter to Arlo. “A multidimensional memoir. A compilation of my writing, my art and a few family recipes. These writings and art are my responses to events in my life. The losses, trauma, grief … and the joy, happiness and love. It’s about the angst and awe of life, which is ever-changing, full of challenges but also magical.”

Brief letters to Arlo are spread throughout the memoir, which is gloriously full of Campbell’s artwork – painting, mixed media, sculpture and more, all of it in colour. A graduate of Emily Carr University of Art + Design, she has had many exhibitions since deciding to become an artist in her 40s, having started her professional life as a social worker. She has participated in the Eastside Culture Crawl since its inception almost 30 years ago, and has been a consistent part of the West of Main Art Walk (Artists in Our Midst) as well.

In addition to the art and letters in Dear Arlo, Campbell includes some of her poetry and essays. She shares how she came to write her second book, her experiences dealing with intergenerational trauma, her path to spirituality, how she found courage, and more.

She writes about losing her husband, in 1994. “Along with him, my plans and dreams for the future also died,” she writes. He died of a stroke at 49 years old – the pair had been together for 32 years, married for 26 of those years.

She shares the story of how she came to have her current dog, Nisha. “I was very sick in September 2019 with what my doctor now believes was COVID, before anyone had heard of COVID,” writes Campbell. Struggling many months with breathing difficulties, she turned, in desperation, to Ganesha, a Hindu god. “My wish to him was to remove all obstacles to my physical, emotional and mental well-being.”

A couple of days later, there came a knock at her door. Two work acquaintances were there, asking if she could adopt a rescue dog. Campbell did, and Nisha “was extremely timid, jumping, trembling and shaking at every sound, every movement. I held her all day every day for the first week to calm her down and get her used to me. She is still a little timid but every day she becomes more brave. She is playful, full of fun and great company,” writes Campbell. “She did remove all obstacles to my physical, emotional and mental health.”

Another uplifting essay is the one on how Campbell has “never come of age.” When she paints and creates with friends, she feels like she is 5 years old, she says. When with her teenage grandson, she also feels like a teen, and sees “the wonder of the world.”

image - A page from Olga Campbell’s memoir Dear Arlo: Letters to My Grandson — A page from Olga Campbell’s memoir Dear Arlo: Letters to My Grandson.

Campbell has role models, older friends and neighbours who still have bucket lists and exercise regimes. Having traveled much herself – Myanmar, Morocco, Vietnam, India, Cambodia, Laos, Turkey and other places – she now wants “to do inward travel. To get to know myself and others around me. To find the mystery inside. To nourish relationships with the people I know and with new people that I meet.” She wants to have different adventures: “Creative adventures, people adventures, spiritual adventures.”

There are more than a dozen recipes in Dear Arlo – from an apple torte that a 5-year-old Arlo bet Campbell she wouldn’t make (which she did but he never ate); to cabbage pie and Russian salad, recalling when Arlo was teaching himself Russian; to broccoli and cheese soup, vegetarian meatloaf and ginger apple tea, in response to Arlo’s request for some recipes.

Campbell is grateful for many things.

“I have had a good marriage and a wonderful family – my lovely daughter, her loving partner and my wonderful grandson Arlo,” she writes.

“I have dealt with losses and tragedies in my life, including the premature death of my husband, but I survived, and now I am happy. Those intense feelings of sadness that I grew up with no longer plague me. I can be triggered, but on the whole, I am fine.”

The memoir ends as it begins, with a letter to Arlo, who, says Campbell, has been “the best grandson I could ever have imagined.”

She writes, “The past provides us with valuable lessons that we can use to inform our present and future. A sense of connection and continuity with the people who came before us. This adds a depth and richness to our lives. I look forward to having many more adventures with you.”

We get to see Arlo grow up, in photos throughout the book. And the photo placed squarely in the centre of this last letter is perfect: Arlo in the driver’s seat of his new red convertible, toque on, giving a thumbs up, smiling, with Campbell beside him, also bundled up for a cold drive, but also with a big smile.

To purchase Dear Arlo or Campbell’s previous books, visit olgacampbell.com.

Campbell’s artwork is on display at the Zack Gallery Jan. 8-27, with an artist reception Jan. 9, 6-8 p.m. Campbell speaks as part of the JCC Jewish Book Festival on Jan. 23, 7 p.m., in the gallery.

Escape from Soviet Union

A photo of Reuven Rashkovsky from the book An Improbable Life: My Father’s Escape from Soviet Russia, by his daughter, Dr. Karine Rashkovsky. Here, Reuven is pictured with a MIG 19 Soviet fighter plane. At 18, he was drafted into the military, conscripted for three years.

Perusing the pages of the Independent’s predecessor, the Jewish Western Bulletin from the 1960s and ’70s, demonstrates the centrality of the movement for Soviet refuseniks in Jewish life of that time. Jewish communities in North America and elsewhere in the West were deeply devoted to the Jews behind the Iron Curtain who sought to emigrate to Israel and other places of freedom.

That movement, ultimately, was a largely Western phenomenon. In a new book, Vancouver’s Dr. Karine Rashkovsky shares her family’s story. An Improbable Life: My Father’s Escape from Soviet Russia, and others of its still-emerging genre, open the narrative to the stories from the other side of the Iron Curtain, those of the refuseniks who Western activists were trying to free.

The Soviet Union, Rashkovsky writes, was a country based on an ideology intended to eliminate ethnic and religious lines, but which counterintuitively insisted that every citizen’s internal passport indicate their nationality – and for Jews, regardless of their geographic origins, their nationality was “Jewish.” And that “nationality” meant slammed doors in the face of opportunity for those carrying that mark.

The book is a personal testimony – written by the daughter in the first person from the perspective of her father, Reuven – but it is also part of a larger story of the struggle of refuseniks and the lives they eventually made for themselves.

After his escape from the Soviet Union, Reuven fought in the Yom Kippur War, attained a PhD in Israel and France, and both he and his wife narrowly avoided being on the hijacked Air France flight that was the centre of the famous raid on Entebbe, Uganda.

In the preface, Reuven calls his life, “a kaleidoscope of hardships and failures.” But there are plenty of successes also.

Reuven’s parents were born in Bessarabia, in what is now Moldova. It was a highly multicultural area and they spoke German, Romanian, Yiddish, Hungarian, Ukrainian and Russian. When the Romanian fascists took over their town, the family fled, but went east to Odesa, rather than to Palestine or America.

When Germany invaded the USSR, Reuven’s father was drafted into the Red Army. His facility with languages put him in the intelligence unit and he assisted in interrogating prisoners of war. He was severely injured during a Luftwaffe bombing raid and, because he was an officer, the family was evacuated to a military hospital in Uzbekistan. There, he learned to walk again and returned to service, participating in the capture of Berlin, in March 1945. Reuven was born in Uzbekistan, in November 1945.

After the war, the family relocated to Belgorod-Dnestrovsky (now in Ukraine but under shifting sovereignty for centuries and known by at least 13 different names and transliterations over time). His father was a police officer and his mother worked 25 years in a fish cannery, which was relatively good fortune for the family in terms of providing protein, thanks to fish she smuggled out of the factory in her bra.

Eventually, they would be a family of seven, with five surviving children. At age 6, Reuven was responsible for taking care of his younger siblings all day while the parents were at work.

In response to antisemitic bullying, Reuven became a scrapper, taking his malnourished body to the gymnastics coach at school and forcing the coach, through the power of determination, to take on the unpromising-looking young Jew. As his biceps grew, the bullying receded. But the discrimination became more insidious and systemic.

In the home of a more well-off classmate, Reuven discovered books. Together, they devoured foreign works in translation, “free from Communist Party propaganda and boring Soviet patriotism.” This set Reuven on a trajectory of skepticism and dissidence that could have ended badly (and, along the way, did have bad moments – but ultimately resulted in freedom and a very successful life in the West).

Reuven’s teachers ascertained that he wasn’t a fan of the Communist Party and so he did not get a favourable reference for university. After 10th grade, he got a job at a slaughterhouse, then became an apprentice electrician. He began night school, where his facility with numbers shone and where his politics were not known and he might get a recommendation for university.

At 18, he was drafted into the military, conscripted for three years.

Eventually, the American allies of the refuseniks forced the American government to put conditions on the sale of American wheat, upon which the Soviet economy depended. The 1974 Jackson-Vanik Amendment tied trade in this necessary commodity to visas for Soviet Jews. Until then, of the several million Jews in the USSR at the time, just a few hundred had been permitted to leave.

Reuven was part of a group of about 25 Jewish youths who decided to hold a hunger strike to demand emigration. They took a petition to city hall and police soon blocked the exit. They were taken before authorities and subjected to “a long lecture on how inappropriate it was to think about leaving our Soviet paradise for Israel, that aggressor capitalist country, a puppet of America.”

When an interrogator threatened the group with imprisonment, one of the dissidents explained to the KGB officers why that was not a good idea.

“She calmly explained to him that we’d communicated with Western journalists and passed them our names and plans for the hunger strike. We’d also alerted these journalists to expect a phone call before midnight to tell them what had happened today. If we didn’t call them, they would tell the Western media about us. Katya went on to tell the colonels what would happen if we were arrested: America wouldn’t sign the contract for selling wheat to the Soviet Union, which would harm the whole country. And Moscow would come down hard on Odesa’s KGB for causing such a disaster.”

The next morning, Reuven and his family went to the government offices first thing. The entire family was granted the right to emigrate except for Reuven’s brother Fima, because he was serving in the army. But the authorities finally agreed that everyone would be allowed to emigrate after Fima’s military service. Reuven’s parents refused to abandon their son and decided that Reuven and his sister Hanna should go on ahead to Israel and the rest would follow later, which they eventually did.

Traveling through Moscow, at New Year’s 1971-’72, Reuven was put up at the apartment of a friend’s mother. There, he met Fania, who was visiting from Kyrgyzstan. She didn’t know anything about Israel and it had never crossed her mind to emigrate. A few shots of vodka in, Reuven told her he would be waiting to marry her if she ever decided to come to Israel.

“It was crazy of me to say such words – to offer marriage to the most innocent girl I ever met and one I had only known for hours – on my last evening in the Soviet Union,” he says. “Of course, I was both very stressed and excited that I was leaving the country, and I had been drinking quite a lot of vodka to relax a bit.”

That was the beginning of a happy 50-something-year marriage that continues today.

Freed of the Soviet Union’s antisemitic shackles, Reuven’s career took off. Hebrew University was looking for a Russian-speaking mathematician to teach first-year students, then he developed a curriculum for high schoolers with advanced math skills. An opportunity landed in his lap to teach at an elite Israeli school in Paris. Friends who had migrated to New York extended an invitation, which led to a side journey to Toronto, where Reuven’s career took another turn and the family became Canadian.

While they were living in Paris, Reuven was unable to attend his brother’s wedding in Israel, in June 1976, but Fania went. On his way to the airport to pick her up on her return, Reuven heard that terrorists had hijacked an Air France plane to Uganda. Reuven was beside himself. It turned out, Fania had missed the plane and was rebooked on a later El Al flight – but jammed phone lines prevented her from notifying Reuven for several days.

Jews of a certain age remember the fight for Soviet Jewry. The Rashkovskys’ book, An Improbable Life, is a story of what they were fighting for.

Rashkovsky is part of the JCC Jewish Book Festival on Feb. 24, 6 p.m., at the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver, along with Sasha Vasilyuk, author of Your Presence Is Mandatory, a debut novel, based on real events, about a Ukrainian World War II veteran with a secret that could land him in the Gulag, and his family who are forced to live in the shadow of all he has not told them. Visit jccgv.com/jewish-book-festival.

Learn ABCs, Hanukkah-style

The Canadian Medical Association would probably not approve, but Rachel Teichman’s D is for Donut is a sweet way to teach kids their ABCs. (Pun intended … groan.)

For this hardcover (or ebook), Teichman again pairs up with Rebecca Wright, Teichman composing the rhyming text and Wright taking the colourful large-as-life photographs. D is for Donut (2023) and their previous collaboration, B is for Bagel (2022), are both published by the Collective Book Studio, grouped as the ABCD-Eats series, implying, perhaps, that there are more books on the way.

The Collective Book Studio describes itself as “an independent publisher dedicated to creating high-quality, beautifully crafted books that celebrate diverse voices and empower storytelling.” On their website, under Collections, one can find Jewish Voices, which, in this time of increased antisemitism, is even more nice to see. The ABCD-Eats books are included here, as are two cookbooks that the Independent has reviewed and enjoyed: 52 Shabbats: Friday Night Dinners Inspired by a Global Jewish Kitchen by Faith Kramer, and NOSH: Plant-Forward Recipes Celebrating Modern Jewish Cuisine by Micah Siva. Collective also published Tali and the Toucan, which the JI reviewed (positively!) in its Nov. 29 issue.

D is for Donut is more proof that the Collective Book Studio really does produce beautiful, high-quality books. Whether or not one agrees with teaching kids their letters by also introducing them to the wide variety of sugary toppings that can be put onto fried dough, D is for Donut makes for a fun and eye-popping read. It begins with a brief summary, poetically written, of how donuts are made, from “First, flour, yeast and milk are mixed together and left to rise” through the frying then the frosting and sprinkles. “Did you know donut holes come from where the donut’s shape is cut?” asks Teichman. (I did not.)

image - D is for Donut by Rachel Teichman, with photos by Rebecca Wright, includes the letter S, for sufganiyah — D is for Donut by Rachel Teichman, with photos by Rebecca Wright, includes the letter S, for sufganiyah.

The bulk of the book is the letters, and a global range of donut types. For example, “A is for apple fritter with fruit and cinnamon inside”; “L is for loukoumades dipped in honey and piled high”; “S is for sufganiyah filled with jam when they’re made” (happy Hanukkah!); and “Z is for zeppole, they’re a real work of art!”

“Donuts are delish, frosted and fried! So tell me … which ones have you tried?” asks Teichman.

D is for Donut includes two recipes: one for Raised Donuts, which takes more time and requires some tools people may not own (to be exact, a two-quart pot, cooking thermometer and heat-resistant slotted spoon), and one for Quick Baked Donuts.

Inspiring with chutzpah

Most of us could benefit from a little more chutzpah, as defined by Julie Esther Silverstein and Tami Schlossberg Pruwer, authors of Chutzpah Girls: 100 Tales of Daring Jewish Women (The Toby Press, 2024).

According to Silverstein and Pruwer, chutzpah is: “ A Jewish superpower: the daring to speak when silenced, to take action when others won’t, to try when they say it’s impossible, to persevere in times of doubt, to be yourself when it’s easier to conform, to stand tall when made to feel small, to believe when it all feels hopeless, to shine your light in the face of darkness.”

With Chutzpah Girls, Silverstein and Pruwer “hope to power up a generation of knowledgeable and confident Jewish kids by zooming in on Jewish women with extraordinary stories across the diverse Jewish experience.”

Chances are that many of the adults reading these stories will also be inspired, learning about several, if not a dozen or more, Jewish women they’d never heard of before: brave and action-oriented women from all over the world, from ancient Israel (1500-587 BCE) to the 21st century.

image - Prophetess Abigail, from Ancient Israel, whose portrait was created by Rinat Hadar — Prophetess Abigail, from Ancient Israel, whose portrait was created by Rinat Hadar.

The 100 are listed alphabetically by first name, rather than chronologically, which gives a timelessness to the feats of each woman. Whether one is a prophetess in ancient Israel, a philanthropist in the early modern era, a trade unionist in the emancipation era, a human rights activist in the 20th century or an intelligence and cybersecurity official in 2024 is mostly irrelevant to the courage one can show.

There is a timeline at the beginning of the book that outlines the eight time periods into which each of the 100 Chutzpah “girls” is placed. Near the end of the book is a map, showing their global and historic presence: Argentina, Bahrain, Ethiopia, Germany, Kurdistan, Mesopotamia, Persia, Russia, Ukraine, the United States, Yemen, and others.

There are three Canadians who made it into Chutzpah Girls: Judy Feld Carr, Lori Palatnik and Rosalie Silberman Abella. And they illustrate how people who are just like us can do impressive things and step up when need be.

Carr was a musicologist, she had a young family. Then, she read an article about Syrian Jews who, after Israel won the Six Day War against its Arab neighbours, were suffering. “Although she was far away, she wanted to help,” write Silverstein and Pruwer. “She reached a rabbi in Syria’s capital city of Damascus by telegram and began sending boxes of needed supplies, including religious books.”

Even after the sudden death of her husband left Carr a single mother, she continued to help, recruiting volunteers from her synagogue. “Using religious terms as coded messages, they started a secret communication system with the Syrian Jewish community. Judy’s home turned into the hub of an underground escape network to help the Syrian Jews flee to safety…. She negotiated ransoms, planned elaborate escapes, and even smuggled people across heavily guarded borders.”

Carr helped save more than 3,000 Jews.

Palatnik is founding director of Momentum, a global organization that connects women to Jewish values and to Israel, and encourages them to take action to promote unity that embraces difference.

“One day, Lori was asked if she’d donate her kidney to a stranger,” write Silverstein and Pruwer. “Hesitant at first, she drew on her sense of achrayut, the responsibility we have for one another. ‘For someone I don’t know?’ she wondered hesitantly. ‘But someone knows her. This is someone’s wife, mother, daughter, friend. Why would I pass up this mitzvah just because I don’t know her?’” (Years earlier, Palatnik had been willing to donate a kidney to a friend, but hadn’t been a match.)

Abella (née Silberman) was the daughter of Holocaust survivors. Born in a displaced persons camp in Germany, she was 4 years old when the family “immigrated to Canada with little more than hope for a better future.” She became “the first Jewish female judge in Canada and the youngest in the country’s history,” never trying to hide that she was Jewish to succeed, write Silverstein and Pruwer.

“In her career, Rosalie worked tirelessly to eliminate the disadvantages faced by people with disabilities, women, people of colour, and the native aboriginal community. After 25 years as a champion of human rights and equality, Justice Rosie became the first Jewish woman to sit on the Supreme Court of Canada.”

Written in a concise, clear manner, there is a lot to learn about some amazing people in Chutzpah Girls. Every entry comprises the name of the woman, her era, when she was born and in what country, her job or title, a writeup about one of her chutzpah aspects, and a quote from the woman that reflects what she did or general words of wisdom.

image - Jewish defenders Zivia Lubetkin, who helped command the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising, and her granddaughter, Roni Zuckerman, an Israeli fighter pilot, as envisioned by Shiri Algor — Jewish defenders Zivia Lubetkin, who helped command the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising, and her granddaughter, Roni Zuckerman, an Israeli fighter pilot, as envisioned by Shiri Algor.

Alongside the text for each woman is a beautiful, colourful, expressive portrait created by one of the dozen-plus illustrators and graphic artists that Silverstein and Pruwer enlisted for this book. The styles are so varied, but all are bold and capture the essence of the woman portrayed.

The last story and portrait in the book are left blank for the young (or old) reader to add their tale of chutzpah and a drawing of themselves.

But the book isn’t the end of it. Readers are encouraged to let Silverstein and Pruwer know who you’d like people to know more about – “a favourite figure from the Torah, a changemaker in your local community, or a leading lady in your own family. It’s even possible our next Chutzpah Girl is you!”

To send your suggestion(s), email info@chutzpahgirls.com. To learn more about the writers and the artists, visit chutzpahgirls.com.

Knowing how precious life is

Lillian Boraks-Nemetz speaks at the Nov. 24 launch of her latest book, Hidden Vision: Poems of Transformation, which she wrote under the name Jagna Boraks. (photo by Rhonda Dent)

Lillian Boraks-Nemetz launched her latest book, Hidden Vision: Poems of Transformation, written under the name Jagna Boraks, at the Sidney and Gertrude Zack Gallery Nov. 24. Co-presented by the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre and the JCC Jewish Book Festival, the event featured Boraks-Nemetz sharing some of her poems – on themes of identity, resilience and remembrance – with musical accompaniment by Wendy Bross Stuart.

Divided into six sections, the poems in Hidden Vision travel from the Holocaust to after the pandemic, from a nadir of human experience to a zenith of hope and gratitude.

In her introduction, composed shortly after the Oct. 7 Hamas attacks, Boraks writes, “Destruction is the opposite of creation. To survive in this world, in any crisis or situation, we need to strengthen ourselves and each other – spiritually. We begin by respecting ourselves and others.

“Understanding that each human life matters, and that each culture and creed are all a part of the world’s flowing river. There is greater strength in this belief than hatred and intolerance.”

The book begins in the spring of 2020, when the world was in the throes of COVID-19 and all that it brought – isolation, fright, shifts in personal and professional behaviour, and, of course, widespread sickness. In the poem “My Street,” written on March 29, 2020, Boraks confronts these issues:

“I will not wait like the brides / I will unlock my door and step outside / where the air feels fresh and crisp / breathing deeply I will begin my walk / towards life.”

Further on, she looks towards her literary influences, one of whom is Adam Mickiewicz, regarded by many as the national poet of Poland, but who also had an impact on the literature of neighbouring countries. In “The Autumn Muse,” inspired by Mickiewicz, Boraks asks: “has anyone ever written an ode / to old age – when the bird of youth / becomes time’s vulture / lurking in mid-air / its malevolent claws seeking to destroy?”

Within the later sets of poems, there is a poignant tribute to Alex Buckman, who, like Boraks-Nemetz, had been an ardent campaigner for Holocaust education in British Columbia. Buckman passed away in Warsaw in 2023 while on a March of the Living trip, where he served as a mentor to young students. In a tribute titled “In Memoriam for a Friend,” Boraks writes: “you chanted your life’s song / like the thorn bird / which sings till his heart might break / you chanted your fear of the dark / as you sang to the children / to appease their fear / as you sang to the students / to teach them lessons / of those barbaric times / when human life was cheap.…”

Despite countless social ills, personal struggles and humankind’s propensity for cruelty, Boraks ends the compilation on an upbeat note. For example, her poem “Hope” reads: “but father time in tune with God / will move the frozen earth into the sun / there – flooded by the light / a new earth will bear fruit / a new man woman and child / will behold the magic of a spring day.”

photo - The launch of Hidden Vision at the Zack Gallery drew a standing-room-only crowd — The launch of Hidden Vision at the Zack Gallery drew a standing-room-only crowd. *(photo by Rhonda Dent)*

Born in Warsaw, Boraks-Nemetz is a child survivor of the Holocaust. She lived in and escaped the Warsaw Ghetto, then hid in Polish villages under a false identity. Her family came to Canada in 1949.

Boraks-Nemetz graduated from St. Margaret’s School in Victoria, going on to study at the University of British Columbia, where she earned a bachelor of arts, then a master’s in comparative literature. Upon earning a certificate in ESL from George Brown College, she taught English, before eventually teaching creative writing at UBC’s Writing Centre, from 1980 until 2015.

Boraks-Nemetz’s previous volumes of poetry are Out of the Dark, Garden of Steel and Ghost Children. She has also penned three award-winning young adult novels: The Old Brown Suitcase, Sunflower Diary and The Lenski File. The Old Brown Suitcase was placed on the recommended reading list for BC schools.

In 2017, Boraks-Nemetz published Mouth of Truth, a novel exploring a family’s past and the trauma of the Holocaust. She has also translated the works of Polish poets Andrzej Busza (Astrologer in the Underground) and Waclaw Iwaniuk (Dark Times).

To order Hidden Vision, contact the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre at info@vhec.org and 604-264-0499.

Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.