And so Vavah went out, in day or in night, and that clunker of the rebbe’s car seemed happiest most of all when its engine was revved enthusiastically at night. And when the rebbe’s third daughter escaped her chores and tore out across the gravel drive, her wheels screeched their escape, as they headed off…
Category: essays
Mira and Erin writing on themes of death, dying, grief, ritual, music, listening, Kaddish, Lev Kogan’s “Kaddish,” and so on.
almighty one, rebbe zero — 1.1.3 —
The third daughter of the rebbe tended to be called (affectionately) Vavah. It was one of those perhaps unfortunate infant names conferred upon her at long-last, after her sainted mother claimed to have witnessed her utter those long-awaited first sounds, not even words, but — ו ו ו ו —va-va-va-va. That the chatty babe…
daily kaddish: for a bee
A kaddish for the bee that got my business trip off to a weird start.
daily kaddish: on the tenth anniversary of 9/11
On the tenth anniversary, a Kaddish for all those who died on 9/11 and in its aftermath. However you want to count them or categorize them, one thing is clear: 133,709 deaths is just too damned many.
binah in silence — intro — 1.1.2
The twin sephirot, as their father the rebbe liked to call them, were twenty-four when our story begins. And their younger sisters, like clockwork, manifested themselves each precisely two years younger than the previous, all managing, and despite the vagaries of the lunar calendar, to emerge into the world on the first day of Nisan. …
introduction — the rebbe’s queer daughters — 1.1.1
Tell me the tale, she insisted, and so at last I did. And hungrily she wrote it all down, as she thought she ought. For her daughters, and her daughters’ daughters she dedicates this tale. Il mundo si esta kimando in braza biva, y tu estas durmiendo endriva de’l buz The world is…
preface — the rebbe’s queer daughters — the uriel tree
The Uriel Tree grew from ancient times to the present almost nowhere on earth. But where it took root, it grew hardy and strong, and could survive where others could not. It preferred, unbelievably enough, arid, marginal environs where not much else could survive. Curiously, it did not at all mind the wind, or even,…
the rebbe’s queer daughters
—מגילת מלכה— This post marks the beginning of a new feature at beitmalkut.org and that is the inclusion of a tale that will take, I think, a very long time to tell. This is something I’ve been writing for my father. It started a number of years ago in time for him to read sections…
a kaddish of thanksgiving for failed relationships
Is it wrong to have fun writing a kaddish? This is a kaddish of Thanksgiving for failed relationships, and a toast to an almost-Dad-in-law. I can hear the ice clinking in our glasses even now.
the tzaddik and the automobile of art maintenance
Everybody knows about the tzaddik’s cars. They were fairly famous. His vehicles impersonated him. They imprinted on him. Everybody remembers particular stories about his cars. Only I don’t know all of the stories. And that really bugs me. I guess what I really want is to know everything. Collect everything. Every shred of memory. I…