August 2023: Handpicked

Charlotte Apter is the 2022–23 Richard S. Herman Fellow and a native of West Hartford, CT. She graduated from Oberlin College where she studied history, religion, and Jewish studies. In high school, Charlotte was a student at the Great Jewish Books Summer Program, and in college she completed both tracks of the Steiner Summer Yiddish Program. At Oberlin, she wrote a senior thesis chronicling the political work of Clara Lemlich and Rose Schneiderman, two prominent Jewish labor organizers in the years following the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire. She has been delighted to be a part of the bibliography team at the Yiddish Book Center this past year.   

An Evening of Poetry at the Montreal Jewish Public Library

This is the first recording I listened to in the Center’s Frances Brandt Online Yiddish Audio Library. I was a Steiner student in 2019, and our academic director Mindl Cohen led a workshop on digital collections and selected this night of poetry—recorded on February 17, 1962, at Montreal’s Jewish Public Library—to play for us. The program featured the poetry readings of Melekh Ravitch, Mordecai Husid, Chava Talenberg, Chana Fishman, and Jacob Glatstein, all in Yiddish. At one point the moderator gets on the mic and admonishes the audience for making too much noise with their teaspoons while the poets are performing. If they must stir, he says, do it quietly and lay your spoon down quietly. The spoon admonishment during a night of Yiddish poetry stuck with me all these years.  

Dos kreytsn fun di hent, by Rashel Veprinski

I learned of Rashel Veprinski while doing research for the Center’s Bronx Bohemian blog earlier this year. I was reading about how the poet Mani Leyb left his wife and children to be with Rashel, and they considered themselves to be each other’s life partners. I was eating this information up—nothing like fifty-year-old Yiddish literary gossip to get me hooked—and I started reading Veprinski’s work after hearing of this potentially secret love affair in the Bronx. She published several books of poetry, even a compilation of her love letters between her and Mani Leyb. However, I turned to Dos kreytsn fun di hent, Rashel’s autobiographical novel, which follows a group of teens in New York navigating independence and relationships. 

Alte vegn, by Zelig Heller

I selected Zelig Heller’s book Alte vegn predominantly for the illustrations inside. I have never seen illustrations as unique and illustrious as Todros Geller’s in this book. Geller was a Chicago-based woodcut artist whose artwork fuses Jewish themes and imagery with modernist, radical, and sometimes bleak images of Chicago in the early 20th century. Marc Chagall is often hailed as the one and only Jewish artist whose shtetl-saturated imagery is broadly known. However, I think Todros Geller is underappreciated as a great American and Jewish artist. I hope to eventually read Zelig Heller’s poetry that accompanies the illustrations, but until then, the artwork is what drew me in for this pick. 

Midber un marantsn, by Brokhe Kudli

I learned of the poet Brokhe Kudli from unpacking the historic donation we received in November from Norma Fain Pratt. Pratt’s 500-book collection provided an easy reading list of women writing in Yiddish. I had never heard of Brokhe Kudli before but found two of her books in this collection. She was among a group of Yiddish poets living and writing in Los Angeles. I was drawn to Midber un marantsn (Desert and Oranges) because often you hear of biblical Israel being referred to in that manner, but her books largely discuss California—her personal land of milk and honey. I really like her poem “Mona-liza” (“Mona Lisa”). 

Bente Kahan’s Oral History 

I really like Bente Kahan’s oral history because of how similar it is to my family history. My great-grandparents immigrated to Oslo from Lithuania and maintained strong Jewish identities in Scandinavia before and after the Holocaust. I love reading about Bente Khana’s cultural fusion (such as her Norwegian Yiddish cabaret) and the idea that she mined for Yiddishkayt within her upbringing; it was something that was not necessarily obvious. Her synthesis of being a Norwegian Jew with this self-realized Yiddishkayt rang true for me. Her music is also quite excellent! 

Q&A

Tell us about your selections and what they say about your relationship with Yiddish language and culture. 

My selection of the Frances Brandt recording is one of several illumination moments from when I was a Steiner student on my way to becoming a Yiddishist. Each day of the program, my mind was constantly being blown by the magnitude of Yiddish culture I was experiencing daily. When I heard this recording, I loved how profound and serious this night of poetry seemed, with all these famous Yiddish writers lined up to read their poetry aloud. Then the emcee reminded the audience how to stir their tea to not be disruptive, and my whole class burst out laughing about di lefelekh! (Spoons!) I remember this class being so inspiring for that reason. Learning Yiddish meant that there was a secret past that we now had access to, and it was funny, intellectual, and joyous to enter this small moment in history all because of Yiddish. The rest of my handpicks jump off this idea of Yiddish enabling me to enter new worlds, whether it’s being enthralled by decades-old literary gossip, learning of Yiddish art and artists I never knew existed, or reading the works of new poets now at my fingertips. My relationship with Yiddish is a very joyous one, and I ended up here by serendipity, so I think my choices also reflect that. I always tell people that working at the Yiddish Book Center, particularly when I am in the Vault, is like being abroad and in Yiddishland. I get to be immersed intimately in culture and literature that feels like a new home. 

What are you working on next? 

After my fellowship is over I am moving to New York City. I don’t know quite yet what the future holds, but I hope to keep building on all that I have learned this year!