This book caught my attention today and I couldn’t put it down. Plunked down my little piece of plastic and carried the irresistible treasure back to Brooklyn. It’s called: Atlas of Remote Islands: Fifty Islands I Have Never Set Foot On and Never Will by Judith Schalansky. Translated from the German by Christine Lo. Beautifully…
Category: essays
Mira and Erin writing on themes of death, dying, grief, ritual, music, listening, Kaddish, Lev Kogan’s “Kaddish,” and so on.
another kaddish for japan’s daughters and sons: on scale-slipping and tragedy
A kaddish for all the sons and daughters Japan has lost and will continue losing in the aftermath of this devastation, whose enormous universal scale I cannot comprehend, whose personal scale is also enormous in its minute detail. On how we use scale-slipping to cope with tragedy. A reply to Mira’s kaddish one daughter at a time.
a kaddish for winter
I’ve been thinking about rebirth a lot, lately and wondering why. All that rebirth stuff — I’ve always thought of it as merely wishful thinking, codified into religious precepts, to ease the mind regarding inescapable misery. Rebirth, opiate of the masses. Or something like that. Rebirth, the place we put our hopes and dreams. Next…
eulogy for my father
Quite a number of people have told me how moved they were by the words I spoke at the my father’s funeral. Some asked for copies of what I said. Still others asked to hear those words for the first time when they read reference to it in an obit somewhere. I don’t think I…
a kaddish one daughter at a time: japan’s 8.9 on the richter scale
I’ve been picturing the devastation. I was thinking about Tunisia when Egypt happened. Thinking about Egypt and Tunisia when Yemen and Bahrain started to unravel. Thinking about Yemen and Bahrain, Egypt and Tunisia, when Libya grabbed my attention. I was still desperately seeking more news on the little country that ‘started it all.’ Tunisia holds…
a kaddish for those who don’t escape
My ordeal was long ago and I’m fine. For far too many others, this story is today, this story is now, and this story is how they will die.
the life-taker and the life-giver: on the healing power of estrogen
It was a very long time ago, but I just got jolted by it again. He, the Vet, had walked into my office. There was already a student in there and she overheard him say, “I could have killed you …” I think it opened the conversation. But before I knew it, the student had…
counting cards with my grumpy grampa
I never gave my grampa his due, but I’m starting to appreciate him.
rudolf steiner in seven-part harmony
It’s your seven-year cycle,” she said. “You’re coming up on the next seven, so that’s why you feel that something’s about to change.” And I thought, well what a load of crap. And then I thought about it. And then I started reading. And then I thought about it some more. I always liked Rudolf…
a kaddish for those who choose their ends
They offed themselves. Both of them, together. She’s pissed, and devastated, and who wouldn’t be? But I can’t help admiring their decision, even as I share her grief and anger.