Today was double exam day: U.S. History Since 1941 and American Literature II. They both dealt with the same time period and overlapped in a way I would describe as magical.
So now the question of what to do with my evening--start researching my exit thesis, get out the old watercolor pad, drink milk-based Ghirardelli hot chocolate until I moo...
Monday, December 28, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Journalism Meets Jewish Lit
Ah, the magnificence of not having to choose paths. For the last little while, I've been agonizing over two roads less taken: journalism and Jewish literature.
Today I attended the 2009 Harold U. Ribalow Prize ceremony at the UJA's Manhattan location. The book prize this year was awarded to Peter Manseau, a French-Canadian Catholic--whose parents met while his father was a Roman Catholic priest and his mother a nun--who became interested in Yiddish and even helped collect and preserve old Yiddish books of mameloshon speakers across America's East Coast.
I was invited to attend the Hadassah Magazine-sponsored event by the publication's editor in chief, Alan Tigay, a beloved professor of mine. The man understands his student, that's for sure.
The speeches sparkled with fascinating anecdotes--Prof. Tigay's trip to Israel 35 years ago, during which his elderly female relative, Yona, insisted on translating a Hebrew episode of The Defenders to him in Yiddish, despite there being English subtitles; the Forward Association Director Samuel Norwich's announcement that the first Yiddish-English dictionary since 1968 will be published in the next few years, complete with technological terms (did you know that email in Yiddish is "plitzpost"?); and, best of all, Meir Ribalow's description of growing up in his illustrious, talent-seeker father's house: "I grew up in a home where making a lot of money was perfectly respectable--if you didn't have any real talent."
In literature anthologies, Harold U. Ribalow liked to publish then-unknown authors such as Saul Bellow, Bernard Malamud, Cynthia Ozick and Henry Roth--in other words, the gems of Jewish creativity that have made the last year of my intellectual life worthwhile.
I can't wait to read Manceau's book, Songs for the Butcher's Daughter, a novel about a Boston Catholic student's friendship with an elderly Yiddish speaker, as well as fascination with the Yiddish language and a Yiddishe maidel.
Today I attended the 2009 Harold U. Ribalow Prize ceremony at the UJA's Manhattan location. The book prize this year was awarded to Peter Manseau, a French-Canadian Catholic--whose parents met while his father was a Roman Catholic priest and his mother a nun--who became interested in Yiddish and even helped collect and preserve old Yiddish books of mameloshon speakers across America's East Coast.
I was invited to attend the Hadassah Magazine-sponsored event by the publication's editor in chief, Alan Tigay, a beloved professor of mine. The man understands his student, that's for sure.
The speeches sparkled with fascinating anecdotes--Prof. Tigay's trip to Israel 35 years ago, during which his elderly female relative, Yona, insisted on translating a Hebrew episode of The Defenders to him in Yiddish, despite there being English subtitles; the Forward Association Director Samuel Norwich's announcement that the first Yiddish-English dictionary since 1968 will be published in the next few years, complete with technological terms (did you know that email in Yiddish is "plitzpost"?); and, best of all, Meir Ribalow's description of growing up in his illustrious, talent-seeker father's house: "I grew up in a home where making a lot of money was perfectly respectable--if you didn't have any real talent."
In literature anthologies, Harold U. Ribalow liked to publish then-unknown authors such as Saul Bellow, Bernard Malamud, Cynthia Ozick and Henry Roth--in other words, the gems of Jewish creativity that have made the last year of my intellectual life worthwhile.
I can't wait to read Manceau's book, Songs for the Butcher's Daughter, a novel about a Boston Catholic student's friendship with an elderly Yiddish speaker, as well as fascination with the Yiddish language and a Yiddishe maidel.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Because the Time Has Come
It recently came to my attention that I'm not biologically predisposed to pen and paper. It's also becoming clear to me that I might have more to say than can fit into a Facebook status; hence, the blog starts churning again--for the first time, like Disney's Bambi coming out of its vault.
So what is it that I have to say to you, who happen to have mistakenly clicked on me?
Well, there's the problem that I'm graduating and have been stone-shopping so I can engrave my future at the end of May (I hate shopping).
That I don't own a single pair of high heels.
That Bernard Malamud and I have had a date for the past 5 months, but I keep standing him up (sorry, The Complete Stories).
But no matter. The re-churning of this blog, originally created for a class I hated, can be a tikkun for the things in life I could be pursuing at this moment, like working on my honors thesis, reading Shir HaShirim or researching how many q's there are in "tikkun."
I think this is the dawn of a new era I can get along with.
So what is it that I have to say to you, who happen to have mistakenly clicked on me?
Well, there's the problem that I'm graduating and have been stone-shopping so I can engrave my future at the end of May (I hate shopping).
That I don't own a single pair of high heels.
That Bernard Malamud and I have had a date for the past 5 months, but I keep standing him up (sorry, The Complete Stories).
But no matter. The re-churning of this blog, originally created for a class I hated, can be a tikkun for the things in life I could be pursuing at this moment, like working on my honors thesis, reading Shir HaShirim or researching how many q's there are in "tikkun."
I think this is the dawn of a new era I can get along with.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)