Monthly Archives: June 2023

Musings on Hemingway, cats, and anti-Semitism in literature

Ernest Hemingway loved cats. I knew the minute I walked into his former house in Key West. Despite the beautiful day and the open windows, the smell of felines permeated every room. Our tour guide Doug introduced us to Gloria Swanson, Rudolf Valentino, and Betty Grable, three of the forty plus six-toed cats that roamed the grounds. All were descendants of his first polydactyl cat, Snow White.

I also love cats. Our family alway had one or two when I was growing up.  We had to give away two Siamese beauties when we realized that they were using the space under the claw toothed tub as a litter box. Most of the time, however, the cats stayed with us until they disappeared. My favorites were Romeo and Juliet, the former renamed Rebishka when “he” delivered a litter of kittens on my bed while I was sleeping in it.

When our children were young, we were given a stray that we named Fluffy. She died of feline leukemia three years later. By this time, it was obvious that Larry was allergic. This didn’t stop me from adopting two more. “The children miss Fluffy,” I told Larry.

Salty, the orange tiger, was more loving than his misnamed sister Cuddles, a calico. He especially loved Larry, who sneezed and sniffled every time Salty sat on his lap. 

One evening, before Larry left for a synagogue board meeting, he gave me an ultimatum. “Find a new home for Salty or find a new husband.”  Soon after he left, I got a phone call from my friend Diane, who is even more allergic than Larry. 

“The kids brought home a stray kitten,” she said. “Could you please take it in until you can find it a home?” I couldn’t say no. Within five minutes after receiving the orange ball of fur,, Adam and Julie had named him Pumpkin.

Larry came home that night to THREE cats. Fortunately, I didn’t need to find a new husband. A co-worker immediately adopted Pumpkin, and a few days later another friend adopted Salty. We were back to a one-cat household.

To no one’s surprise, Larry became Cuddles’ favorite human. The two of them often played cat ball. Larry would roll up a piece of aluminum foil, skid it across the floor, and Cuddles would bat it around the house. When she was fourteen years old, our beautiful cat disappeared one night and never returned. (A friend consoled me with the suggestion that Cuddles was “fox food”). We found cat balls for months. Ten years later, while in the process of installing  a new dishwasher, we found no less than twenty of them  in the briefly emptied space.

By this time, we realized that all of us were allergic to cat dander, but I never have lost my love for them. When I visit a house with cats, I can’t wait to pet them and hear that wonderful purr. So at the Hemingway House, I petted each one that got within arms’s reach.

At one point, I also loved Ernest Hemingway, so much that I completed an independent study on him and his writing in my senior year at University at Albany. The Sun Also Rises, Farewell to Arms, The Old Man and the Sea—I admired his sparse style, his characters, and his complex search for the masculine ideal. I was, as I have shared with readers before, young, naive, sometimes clueless. 

It was not until many years later that my opinion of the author changed. Reading his novels and other material about Hemingway from a more mature eye, I saw more clearly the man behind the myth—a narcissistic, heavy drinking male chauvinist. As Bernice Kert stated in The Hemingway Women: Hemingway could not truly sustain any of his four marriages. “Married domesticity may have seemed to him the desirable culmination of romantic love, but sooner or later he became bored and restless, critical and bullying.”

His relationship with his third wife, the American journalist Martha “Marty” Gellhorn, clearly demonstrates these characteristics. Resentful of her long absences as she pursued international stories, Hemingway protested, “Are you a war correspondent, or wife in my bed?” The final straw for Gellhorn (and mine!) was when she learned that Hemingway had convinced Charles Cobaugh, her editor at Collier magazine, to send him to the European front instead of his wife. In her excellent novel Love and Ruins, Paula MacLean describes Gellhorn’s reaction to the betrayal. “You could have gone to any magazine in the world, absolutely any of them. I didn’t know you had such a cruel streak in you.” Gellhorn found another—albeit more dangerous—way to the front and divorced him soon after.

Hemingway also has been accused of being anti-Semitic. As Mary Dearborn writes in a 2017 article in The Forward, the author’s letters were laced with “nasty remarks about Jews.” She states that in his first novel The Sun Also Rises, his character Robert Cohn is described as an obnoxious individual,  a “kike” and a “rich Jew.” Although some critics have given his writing  as expressing the perceived fashionable anti-Semitism of the 1920s, I now find his treatment of Jews in his novels to be disturbing. 

Should I stop reading Hemingway’s novels? No. If I boycotted every classic that contain anti-Semitic references. I would have to shelf huge chunks of English literature. including Shakespeare, Nathanial Hawthorne, and Charles Dickens. Even Phillip Roth has been accused of perpetuating Jewish stereotypes in his literature. The list gets longer if I add on other classics that demonstrate other racial and ethnic slurs

So I will continue to read Hemingway and other renowned authors with a little less enthusiasm and a little more critical eye. And maybe, in the future, I will have on my lap while reading a lovely, Balinese —or another of the seven “hypoallergenic” breeds known to produce fewer allergens than other cats. In a tip of the hat to my favorite Hemingway wife, I will name my new love Marty. Take that, Ernest!

A version of this article originally appeared in the February 20, 2020, Jewish World News, a bi-weekly subscription-based newspaper in upstate New York.

Photo of Ernest Hemingway courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

Keep Calm and Bake Challah is on Amazon!!

I am proud to announce that my fourth book, Keep Calm and Bake Challah: How I Survived the Pandemic, Politics, Pratfalls and Other of Life’s Problems,is out and available on Amazon in both Kindle and paperback formats.Hope you enjoy reading the the fifty-three articles I wrote during the pandemic as much as I enjoyed writing them! For those who have been following my blog for a while, you will now have many of those posts in one place for your reading pleasure.

Below are a sampling of the story topics:

A Survivor’s Tale: Dutch Nathan

Anne Frank, born on June 12, 1929, was the celebrated diarist who described her life while hiding with her family from the Nazis in an Amsterdam, Holland attic. After capture and deportation, she died in the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp in late winter 1945.The following story, first published in 2018, tells the story of another Jewish child who hid with his family in Holland during World War II and survived to share his story.

Anne Frank is one of the most well known figures from the Holocaust. But she and her family were not the only ones to go into hiding to avoid capture by the Nazis and their collaborators. While some Jews lived in the open with changed identities, others, like the Franks physically hid to avoid certain deportation and almost certain death. Dutch Nathan and his family were one of many who relied on others to help them. 

Gert “Dutch” Nathan was born on January 5, 1932, in Duren, Germany, the second son of Wilhelm (“Willy”)  and Hilde (nee  Friesem) Nathan. Willy had a cattle hauling business which extended throughout Europe. He did not have a formal education, but he was street smart—Dutch remembers that his father could “outcalculate a calculator.” The Nathans lived a mostly secular life in Germany, with observation of major Jewish holidays and his mothers’ lighting of Shabbat candles.

In 1938, after Hitler’s rise, the family moved sixty miles west to Valkenburg, The Netherlands. “Holland had proclaimed neutrality when war broke out in September 1939, as they had done in World I,” said Dutch, “so my father thought our family would be safe.”Willy took a job with the De Valk bus company, a former competitor, where he continued his cattle business.

On May 10, 1940, Hitler’s forces invaded the self-proclaimed “neutral” country. Five days later, after the bombing of Rotterdam, the Dutch forces surrendered. By 1942, the situation began to deteriorate for fellow Jews. Willy made the following arrangements with his friend, Johan Kengen, a member of the Dutch Underground:  If the Nathans were in danger of deportment. Willy would pay for the family to stay in the home of  Kengen’s fiancé’s aunt and uncle  for “a few days” until the Nathans could be spirited away to England. Willy also made arrangements for neighbors to move most of the furniture and bedding to the house next door. Whether the neighbors were paid or volunteered as an anti-Nazi action still remains a mystery to Dutch. 

The plan was put into effect a few month later. While walking from the bus station into the De Valk building, Willy was stopped by a friend and fellow employee:  Germans were waiting for him to arrest him and deport him and his family to the concentration camp.

Father quickly stole a bike and peddled the ten miles home. Dutch and his older brother Fredo were instructed to leave their house one hour apart to walk the two  miles to a house “located on the right hand side just before the road crossed the railroad tracks” with a warning to “not speak to a soul.” Willy and Hilde arrived later that evening, expecting to hear soon from the Underground of their clandestine trip to England. 

Unfortunately, the days turned into week, and the Nathans were still in hiding. Other people, including downed pilots, had priority in the Underground escape plan. To further cover the facts of extra activity in the “safe house,” an elaborate ruse was planned. Johan and the elderly couple’s niece Ann quickly arranged their wedding. At the reception, Johan picked a huge fight with Ann’s parents, who resolved that they would have no contact with the couple until Johan apologized. The newlyweds moved into the house by the railroad tracks, bringing the number to eight. 

As weeks turned into months, tensions grew. The Nathan’s spent most of their time in a small main floor bedroom. Ann was prone to hysterical outbursts, and Willy and Johan would have to physically restrain her to keep her from running outside and giving their situation away. Meanwhile, Hilde was anguishing over the fact that she had not been able bring her parents with them. She was haunted by their deaths in the concentration camp for the rest of her life.

Johan’s government job determining the number of animals that farmers could slaughtered provided a means to get extra meat and milk, but food was still scarce. Dutch and Fredo, 10 and 12 respectively, spent most of their days quietly reading books and avoiding the shaded windows so no shadows would be seen.

Along with possible discovery, the occupants lived in fear of the potential impact of living near the railroad track.The noise from the passing trains provided an extra buffer but also an extra danger:  Allies strafed German trains. They hoped that these attacks would not hit the house, either killing all of them or forcing the Nathans out into the open, thus exposing their dark secret. 

In the second half of 1944, the southern half of Holland was liberated by American troops. (The remaining areas of the Netherlands were not liberated until May 1945.) The Nathans stayed inside for a few more days to make sure they were safe. 

Once they realized they were actually free, the Nathans stepped into fresh  air for the first time in twenty-six months.  “I walked a few feet and collapsed,” remembered Dutch. When asked if he had been overcome with emotion, he said, “I hadn’t used my legs in 26 months and initially had no muscle tone to walk more than a few feet.

Before they could move back into their home, however, Americans bombed Valkenburg. One of the casualties was the Nathan’s home. “No one understood why the brick home next door burned so much,” said Dutch. “The furniture hidden in the attic acted like a tinderbox, and flames shot up in the air for hours.”

In May 1945, the remaining areas of the Netherlands were liberated. Free but homeless, the Nathan family moved into a neighbor’s home until 1946, when they obtained visas to move to United States, where several of Willy’s siblings lived. Willy built a crate the size of a truck and filled it with everything they had accumulated since the end of the war—including a piano. 

Dutch, now sixteen, enrolled in City College to learn English, adding to his previous background of German, French, and Dutch. At 18, he enlisted in the army and volunteered to go to South Korea. When he returned home, he found employment in whatever “made money.” 

In 1979, Dutch, who had been married twice before, met Sue Cohen. He proposed shortly after the meeting, but it took ten years for her to say yes. During this time, Dutch started the Stretch Lace, a Sharon Massachusetts-based company that manufactured and sold elastic shoe laces. (“Tie once, never Tie Again!”) Although his invention was successful, Dutch admitted that he didn’t know marketing and sales. He eventually sold the business, but Easy Laces are still available today and are worn by such celebrities as Brooke Shields. They lived in Sharon for most of their married life before retiring to Kissimmee, Florida, in 2007.

 In 1982, Sue and he were invited by residents of Duren, Germany, to return to the Nathan’s original home. They were treated royally and met with church members as well as school children. Sue’s main mantra to everyone she met was “Just remember! The Holocaust DID happen.” Although their visit was supposed to last a week, Dutch felt uncomfortable. He rented a car, and the two of them toured Europe, driving over 4000 miles before returning to Massachusetts 

Almost seventy-five years after his liberation, Dutch graciously shared the story that he spent most of his life trying to put those terrifying time behind him. “I try not to think about those things,” said Dutch. “It is over and cannot be undone.  His story, however, as those of the fewer and fewer remaining Holocaust survivors, must be told. As Sue Nathan told the people in Germany during the 1982 visit, “Remember. The Holocaust DID happen.” And we Jews and righteous people everywhere will never forget. 

A version of this article originally appeared in the November 8, 2018, issue of the Jewish World News, a bi-weekly subscription-based newspaper in upstate New York.

Unmoored

Originally published in Jewish World News on June 24, 2021, the following essay reflects my feelings after fifteen months of lockdown. This is one of the essays found in my fourth book, Keep Calm and Bake Challah: How I Survived the Pandemic, Politics, Pratfalls, and Other of Life’s Problems.

Since my husband Larry and I have had our second COVID shots, our pre-pandemic life and its commitments are slowly resuming. We have waded out into the unknown, first a toe into the water with outdoor concerts and patio-only dining, then walking up to our knees with visits and in-home dinners with vaccinated friends, then plunging in with indoor restaurant dining and non-virtual club meetings. Recently, I was in a restaurant with four friends when I realized I had walked in, sat down, ordered, and hadn’t thought of COVID or even masks for a full half hour. That, I say, is progress.

Then why am I feeling shaky? Uncertain? Unmoored? 

Since March 2020, when the world shut down, my husband Larry and I filled the empty hours that stretched in front of us with small gems. I finally put together Fradel’s Story, a collection of articles written by my mother and about my family. We took long walks and longer bike rides through unexplored areas of our community. We spent hours and hours on our lanai, reading, doing puzzles, eating leisurely dinners, and watching the wildlife in our pond. Each Friday, we celebrated Shabbat with candles and wine and homemade challah. And we spent hours and hours on video conferencing sessions with family, friends, our synagogue, and our clubs. 

Now our calendars is filling up and overflowing. We have not yet given up many of the activities that kept us going for sixteen months of isolation, but we are also adding more and more semblances of our previous life. And as what happens to me whenever I try to juggle too much I began dropping balls. I missed a planned luncheon, showed up an hour late for a book club, and completely forgot to call my brother and sister-in-law to wish them “Mazel tov” on their fiftieth anniversary. For goodness sakes, I even failed to send in an article to the Jewish World for its last issue, something I had not done for years. Had I learned nothing from the pandemic?

Jodi Rudoren captured many of my feelings in a March 5, 2021, editorial in the Forward where she admitted that she didn’t want to go back to the old “normal.” “This terrible, horrible very bad year of isolation has also had an abundance of silver linings,” she wrote, “and I worry we’ll snap back to our old ways without truly learning the lessons this crisis has brought.”

So now, like Ms. Rudoren and many others, I am finding my own “better normal.” I don’t want to give up some of the things I savored: the more leisurely life, our long dinners on the lanai with cold beer or coconut rum and (Diet) cokes or wine; the challah baking, the puzzles. On the other hand, I look forward to meeting friends for dinner and plays and indoor get-together, resuming exercise classes, and, most of all, traveling to see my family. 

I am not alone in my feelings, as I found out on a ZOOM with my SOL Writers group. Ginny said that she feels as if she was emerging from a long illness, where stepping back into the world in her weakened state is difficult. “I feel untethered,” she said. “It is as if I am floating around finding my center.” Gail shared that she felt as if she were in a “waiting room,” in between her old life and her “new normal.”

Along with the difficulty of finding one’s balance, there is still the specter of COVID-19 hanging over all of us. Although all of the SOL Writers have had both vaccines, each found that she still was a “little too vigilant,” “a little too cautious,” and most importantly, “a little distrustful.” When “accosted” by a fellow shopper who demanded to know why she was still wearing a mask, Ginny avoided confrontation by calmly saying, “You care as much about what I think as I care about what you think.” After ‘losing’ what she feels has been a year of her life, Mary Ann said she no longer has the energy or patience to squander what remains of her time for “idiots” who still think that the virus was a hoax. “These people are ‘energy vampires,’” commented Aya.

The reality of a resurgence has been felt by friends in England, who now are concerned of a virus variant from India that is more contagious. “Portugal opened up, and many people flew there for a vacation,” they  told us. “Then there was a spike in cases.”Portugal’s Covid rates increased enough for England to revoked their green status, resulting in vacationers scrambling to return home before they faced a 14-quarantine. Our friends are not optimistic about traveling for a long while. 

In the States, there is more confidence, and Larry and I are ready for our next big step. We will soon be flying out to see our son and daughter-in-law and meet our grandson, who was born one day before San Francisco closed down. Then we head to Colorado, to spend time our daughter, son-in-law, and beautiful granddaughter. Extra masks and hand sanitizer are already packed, along with gifts, warm layers for San Francisco “summers” and hiking clothes and boots for Rocky Mountain trails. 

We know that COVID and its aftermath will impact our visit. Outdoor concerts, farmers markets, and indoor plays and dinners are still “To Be Determined.”

No matter, Larry and I will just be happy to finally be with our family and return to at least that piece of normalcy. We will take long walks along the ocean in San Francisco and long hikes in the woods in Colorado. Each Friday, we will sit down with them for Shabbat dinners with wine, candles, and freshly baked challah. Larry will find quiet moments to do puzzles and read. I will put the final touches on Fradel’s Story [to be completed in time for what would have been my mother’s 104th birthday on September 1] and continue writing stories about living through the pandemic. And I will savor all that I learned as I move forward into our “new normal.”

Sources:

Demony, Catarina. “Portugal halts easing of COVID-19 rules in Lisbon as cases rise.” Yahoo News June 9, 2021.

Rudoren, Jodi. “Confessions of a Lockdown Addict.” Forward. March 5, 2021.

Rudoren, Jodi. “Small Talk and Other Skills I’m struggling to re-learn as we build a better normal.”  Forward. June 11, 2021

Photo courtesy of Nick Fewings on Unsplash.

A version of this article originally appeared in the June 24, 2021, Jewish World News, a bi-weekly subscription-based newspaper in upstate New York.