Keywords:"Forverts"; "The Forward"; "The Jewish Daily Forward"; "The Yiddish Daily Forward"; Abe Cahan; Abraham Cahan; brothers; family; Isaac Bashevis Singer; Israel Joshua Singer; Satan in Goray; socialism; socialist; The Family Moskat; Yiddish literature; Yiddish newspapers; Yiddish writers
Keywords:America; father; Ha-Shomer ha-Tsa'ir; Hashomer Hatsair; Hashomer Hatzair; Isaac Bashevis Singer; MoMA; Museum of Modern Art; son; The Young Guard; truck driver; U.S.; United States; US; work
Keywords:America; Bible; English language; family; Hebrew language; Isaac Bashevis Singer; Israel Joshua Singer; Jewish texts; Jewish writer; Joseph Singer; money; New York City, New York; relationships; religion; religious texts; romance; Talmud; translating; translation; translator; United States; writing; Yiddish writer; Yiddish writing
Keywords:author; father; Isaac Bashevis Singer; journalism; journalist; Minister of Defense; Nobel Prize; son; Sweden; terrorism; writer; Yiddish literature
CHRISTA WHITNEY: Okay. So this is Christa Whitney, and today is November 1st,
2013. And I'm here at the Yiddish Book Center with Israel Zamir, and we're goingto record an interview as part of the Yiddish Book Center's Wexler Oral HistoryProject. Do you I have your permission to record? Thank you. So let's jump in(laughs). Today, we will be talking about your father. Can you tell me what yourfather's name is?
ISRAEL ZAMIR: Isaac Bashevis Singer.
CW: And where and when was he born?
IZ:He was born in Leoncin in 1904. Leoncin is a suburb of Warsaw.
CW:And what do you know about his family? His parents and grand-parents?
IZ:I know that his parents were Batsheva and her husband, which I forgot his
name. He was the rabbi of -- but his father. He was a kind of a dayan. You knowwhat it is, "dayan," in Yiddish? It was kind of a small judge, Jewish judge, 2:00helping Jewish couples and Jewish individuals to solve their problems. He wrotea book "In My Father's Beys-din shtub [Court]." Did you read it? With all thecases that his father dealt with, and he used to put his ear to the door, andlisten to the stories, and then to write them down. They were very poor. Andduring the Second World War, they escaped through the Praga Bridge to the Soviet 3:00Union. Two of them with their son, Moishe, the youngest son, and his wife. Thisis something that I learned recently, and they stopped in Lwów. And Moishe wasteaching Judaism there. And one of the people of Beit Alfa of Israel, when Ispoke of "Yentl" in one of the theaters, he said, "Why didn't you mentionMoishe?" I said, "I know nothing about him." He said, "He was my teacher for twoyears, but Lwów was crowded with tremendous amount of people, people thatescaped from the Germans, and they were sent to the Far East, somewhere around 4:00Siberia, cutting trees. And the parents, including Moshe, starved to death. The-- his wife, according to the man that I met, he says that she escaped toAmerica after the war. I called up Joseph Singer, brother of Joshua -- of myfather -- Israel Joshua -- the son of Israel Joshua Singer, and his son is alawyer, and he says, "What do you know more about it? So let us look for her." I 5:00said, "I know nothing." Then he said, "Well, after what she went through," saidJoseph Singer, "Maybe she wanted to disappear." And this is a riddle. This is --this never was printed in any paper, this is brand new news, that I, asjournalist, am happy to tell you.
CW:Wow. What do you know about the town that your father grew up?
IZ:The what?
CW:The life that your father grew up in, the town, the house?
IZ:Warsaw?
CW:Yeah.
IZ:My father lived on Krochmalna Street, number ten, number twelve. After he
6:00came back from Bilgoraj, as you know, he was there almost five years, fromthirteen till eighteen. His brother, I.J. Singer, arranged for him a job to be aproofer of some magazine. And he started to work there. And little by little, hefound his self -- he found the way to the Journalists' Club, which was on 18[sic] TÅomackie Street. And there, started to get close to some writers, and 7:00still being very unhappy, not having -- not making enough money. But then hestarted -- at the beginning, he wrote in Hebrew. Then he realized that Hebrew isa dead language -- not Yiddish is a dead language, Hebrew. And he said tohimself, "If I want Jews to be able to read my stuff, I should write inYiddish." And he moved to Yiddish, the same story with his brother, and sincehis brother, his older brother, was quite popular, Abe Cahan, the editor of "The 8:00Forverts," started to read magazine that my uncle edited, and invited him to theUnited States. In 1935 -- 3, he went with his wife, and one of his son, theother one died of pneumonia, and in 1935, he decided after visiting Russia,being there for two years, that there is no future for Jews in Poland, and heinvited my father to the United States, to America. 9:00
CW:Of course, he left when you were very young --
IZ:Five years old.
CW:Do you have any memories of him?
IZ:I have memories from him since the age of three. I remember myself living in
a house, and there was a court beneath with a gate, with a drunk gatekeeper, anda lot of gypsies, and all kind of players, and all kind of merchants, walked inand tried to sell goods to the people. To me, this was a big show. There were 10:00acrobats, and there was dancers, and they were doing all kinds of things. And Iwas very much impressed. And one day, I don't know how, I found myself going outof the house, crossing the street to an ice cream kiosk. The manager looks atme, so he said, "Ohh! You're a Jid!" I said, "No? I'm a Jid!" "You have to go toPalestine. Jids should not be here, but in Palestine." In the evening, I ask myfather and my mother, "What is a Jid?" "Where did you learn this word?" I tellthem where, and they said, "We will never buy ice cream there anymore." This was 11:00-- I was three years old. I remember myself, maybe this age, even maybe younger,I filled up one of my father's new shoes with water, with a little stick anddrop, I wanted to fish -- to catch fish. My father came, very mad. I use -- Iremember him going away, coming -- going out in the morning, coming back in theevening. He hardly talked to me. I even remember once I had a problem with myear, and my mother said, "I want him to see a doctor." My father said, "I have 12:00no money." And then, she took his coat to hang it, and a bunch of zlotys felldown. She said, "You have no money?" "Ah! That's not my money!" My mother was aCommunist, my father couldn't take it. Not only this, but I remember when I wasprobably four years old, she was arrested, and two of her girlfriends from theParty came to take care of me. And I asked, "Where is my father?" And they said,"He rented a room somewhere, and is writing." And every day, they used to takeme to the Pawiak Prison, standing near the Pawiak Prison, and they were called 13:00"Guee-guee-guee-guee." Guee-Guee was my name was I was probably a couple ofmonths. Whenever I wanted my -- something, I closed my -- my feets, and I yelled"Guee! Guee! Guee! Guee! Guee!" And they called me Guee-Guee. My mother waslooking at the window -- through the window, waving me, and these are mymemories. And after three months, she was free. And my sad father decided --Iunderstand it -- "I'm not going to live with a Communist, with such a woman." 14:00And his brother sent him an invitation, kind of a visa, to visit America. Andone day, I remember lifting me up, hugging me and kissing me. He never did it,and he said, "Guee-Guee, I am leaving the country. And don't worry, I'll come topick you up when I invite you to come to me to America." And I look at mymother, and I realized that she doesn't believe him. And he disappeared in mylife, I was five years old. Shall I go over the story?
CW:No. What language did you speak to your parents?
IZ:Polish. They spoke among themselves Yiddish. But I spoke Polish.
CW:Can you say something about your father's relationship with his brother?
IZ:My father, his first station was in his brother's apartment in Gay -- what do
you call it -- Gayside, or something like it, it's in Brooklyn.
CW:Hmm, not sure.
IZ:Something like this. And from the beginning, there was a tremendous
difference between them. My uncle was a very open person. He showed my father 16:00his writing, and he wanted to introduce him to people. My father didn't likethis kind of patronage. And he was envy, and he decided to move out. For thefirst seven year -- and my uncle arranged for him a job in "Forverts," and theeditor of "Forverts," Abe Cahan said to him -- he was a Bundist at that time --"I want you to write about the Lower East Side, about the sweat shops, about theJewish proletarian." And my father said, "They mean nothing to me. I would like 17:00to write about demons, about all kind of spiritual creature." Abe Cahan was veryunhappy about it. And he -- and he minimize his job only for once a week tobring some little stories about people. My -- they used to meet, but they wereentirely different people. I met Genia, I.J.'s wife, and she said -- many years 18:00afterwards -- and she said, "You were very unfair to your brother. And he shouldhave gotten the Nobel Prize before you, because he was more capable. And you --but he died when he was fifty years old. And you kidnapped his prize." And -- Itold her that I personally liked her husband literature much more than myfather. I was a Socialist living on a kibbutz, believing in Socialism. To me,Stalin was a big hero, and I appreciated the -- how do you call it? -- real 19:00Socialistic literature. Which means that literature should help building thecountry. That's how I.J. Singer wrote about Lodz, about the cotton factories,and I really appreciated. But with my father, I couldn't understand the wholebusiness. I once opened -- when I was a student sixteen years old, living on akibbutz, my educator called me, and gave me her "Satan in Goray." I open it, on 20:00Chapter Twenty -- if you have the book, open it, you'll see the headline, thiskind of pornography. "That's how my father writes?" Anyhow, I was very unhappyabout him. I remember my father writing letters to my mother, saying that hisbrother very first Americanized himself to the style, to the manners, to thehabits, and to the language, to the accent, and my father didn't like it. Onthat event, they were in -- I would say -- correct relationship, but when my 21:00uncle died, and "The Family Moskat" was printed, he dedicated to his belovedbrother, who he learned from him a lot, and et cetera, et cetera. But did -- thebig truth, it was very unstable a relations.
CW:Do you know if your father had communication or a relationship with his
sister, Esther?
IZ:With who?
CW:With his sister, Esther?
IZ:Esther. The two brother didn't appreciate her writing, they didn't appreciate
IZ:Morris Karl wrote an article that my father and his sister, they slept -- he
23:00and his mother came to Warsaw to visit the parents, and my father slept in thesame bed with his mother. And he feels that something was going on. My fatherbecame very mad when he read it. And it was a nasty article. She asked for help,financially. I'm not sure they sent her money, I'm not sure.
CW:So I want to go back to your story. So can you explain living -- you know --
your journey with your mother, going to Russia and Turkey, and then how you cameto Israel? Yes. 24:00
IZ:You finished with my father? (laughs)
CW:Not yet (laughs). Just for now.
IZ: As I told you, my mother was a Communist, farbrente komunist [ardent
Communist]. And after my father left, she told me, "Guee-Guee, we are going toRussia. One of her sisters, Manya, also was a Communist. She went to a seminarto Moscow, met somebody there, and married him. And she said, "Poland has nofuture for us?" And "Let's go to Russia. I was six, six-and-a-half, something 25:00like -- and I remember -- I still remember, even, the trip on the train going toWarsaw. We used to live near the Red Square. You see, Manya, her sister, wasmarried to somebody who worked in one of the secret weapon factories, so shedidn't -- I didn't know anything about it. I was going to a kindergarten, learnsongs about Stalin, about Voroshilov. The Russian leaders were my gurus, if I 26:00may say so. And I felt -- I learned the language very fast, and I spoke goodRussian language. One day, my mother said, "Look, tomorrow, you don't go to thekindergarten, there is a funeral." The famous Maxim Gorky was -- died. And therewill be a funeral crossing the Red Square, and I want you to be with me, and toshare honor to the famous writer. I remember it was a very cold day, and we werestanding there with a tremendous amount of people. Two lines left some place for 27:00the funeral to go out. In a certain time, I saw six black horses going slowly,carrying a coffin, where Gorky was in it. After him, about ten meters, JosefStalin was marching. And I knew his pictures, I knew everything about him. Andthen I yelled to my mother, "See how small is Stalin The Big!" I meant, short.And these two NKVD people were standing near us, and they gave a big smash on myass. And I remember, they were cursing me, "Durak." "Durak" is "Stupid." And 28:00then one of them said to my father, "You better prepare two valises."
CW:Your mother, yeah.
IZ:Ah?
CW:To your mother, yeah.
IZ:I said she was with us. I was with her. "You better prepare two valises,
because today in Siberia, is very cold. So -- she took me, and we went home. Mymother felt very bad about it, because of this stupid boy, and since we werePolish citizens, nothing happened. My mother worked as a translator from Polish 29:00to Yiddish for the "Haynt," the Communist Yiddish paper that came out. I thinkthe editor was Michalis. And this how she made a living. One day, they were toldall the stuff of the paper, that a group of inspectors from the Party is goingto participate in a meeting, and they will ask some questions. And they came,and there was a meeting -- I wasn't there, of course, but I know from mymother's story, and one of the questions was, "Which is the best solution, do 30:00you think, for the Jewish people?" They all said, Birobidzhan. And my stupidmother said, Birobidzhan, but also Palestine. They were shivering. They were --became white. My mother realized that she made a mistake, but she couldn't doanything. She called her sister, Mania. She told her the story, ask her to dosomething about. She said, "There is nothing you can do about it," andtwenty-four hours afterwards, knock on the door. We got a -- two NKVD peoplecame in. Within twenty-four hours, "You have to leave the Soviet Union. Mymother was so miserable. So she telegram a wire to her mother, who lived in 31:00Palestine. Her mother was remarried to a Jewish rabbi from London, who livedalso in Palestine and in London. And asking, "Send me an affidavit toPalestine." She thought it would take two, three days, but we got a visa for twoweeks. And after -- and we didn't have much money. We rented a room in a cheaphotel near the Port of Istanbul, waiting to get on a boat. We waited for a visa 32:00nine months. This hotel, three stories of it, it was a whorehouse. Every night,there was a big scandals there. Police used to come every day, and we wereshivering that the owner of the hotel may say, "Look, I have illegal personliving on the top in a very little room." But he was smart enough not to do it.And my grandmother, the mother of my mother, used to send very little money tous. And the first thing that my mother told me, "Forget your Russian," and shestarted to speak to me Polish. So after a while, Polish came back to me, and 33:00Russian became a dead language. My mother was very capable woman, and shedecided since she cannot work, and she lives illegally there, she studiedEnglish and French. And I didn't go to a school. But somehow, I caught Turkish,and started to speak Turkish, and Polish became a dead language to me. My motherspoke to me Yiddish, which I didn't know much of it yet. And we were very poor, 34:00and very miserable, but my mother gave up Communism right away. If they are suchbastards, what else she can do about it? And after nine months -- and I used togo down to a travel agency office, and to ask in French -- she thought me aFrench sentence, that I remember today only one word, "pour moi" (points to hischest), which is "for us," which is the -- "A visa for us did come?" And afternine months one day, they said yes. And we got on a boat, and through the Suez 35:00Canal, we got to Palestine, to Haifa.
CW:What was your first impression of Haifa?
IZ:I look upon Haifa, and upon Tel Aviv, and upon Palestine as a -- not a
permanent house, because my permanent house is going to be America! Because myfather promised that he is going to take us to America! So I said, "Okay,another country that I'm going to stay." I didn't have a mother language. Whatlanguage shall I speak? Polish was a dead language, I forgot it. Russian was,Turkish, I didn't catch much because I was locked in a house. And my grandma was 36:00a very religious person, so she sent me to a religious school in Tel Aviv. Ididn't understand what was going on there. And what else? Whatever did I used tocatch? Birds? Not birds, but -- what do you call those little things?
CW:Butterfly?
IZ:Huh?
CW:Butterfly?
IZ:No. Smaller, you know, that --
CW:Fly?
IZ:Huh? Flies! And connect little piece of string, and leave them. And they used
to run, and the whole class (clapping) was very happy with me. The teacher was avery cruel man, and he had a little office, and he used to say to the kids, 37:00"Wait a second." Took me to the office, and he gave me punches on my hands thatI couldn't -- I couldn't lift up my hands. After a while, he used to come to theclass, and say, "Good morning, children. Singer, outside." From the beginning.And there were two big eucalyptus trees there -- eucalyptus trees there, and Ispend from eight o'clock till two, three o'clock on the trees. The funniestthing is that after maybe six months, as I was sitting on the tree, I saw my 38:00educator, my teacher, going out with a young lady, sitting near the big tree ona bench. And he put his hands under her skirt. And then I yelled in Hebrew, thiswas my first sentence, "Mr. Freund, I see what you are doing to her! I am goingto tell the class tomorrow, if you ever throw me out of the class!" They runaway, and he got me back to the class. At the end of the year, they say, "Hegoes up to the fourth grade, but not in our school." We were sent to anotherreligious school. I study there two -- for two years. I was a capable kid that 39:00caught within five minutes what the teacher wants, and the rest of the time, Iwas bored. And then, I was sent -- my mother -- this was in Tel Aviv -- mymother met her second husband in Jerusalem. They lived in one room, she couldn'tkeep me there, together with -- it was probably a room like this. So they sentme to a -- to a school away, on the way to Haifa, it's called Shfeya. This was a 40:00kind of school that orphan kids, as well as kids that their parents wereseparated. All kind of kids with problems were studying there. And over there, Iwas happy, I was one of them. I -- at the beginning, it was very terrible, and Iask my mother -- she came once in three months to see me, and I say, "Take meaway from this terrible place." But she couldn't, because she couldn't affordholding me. And when I finish eighth grade, I was playing mandolin, I wasplaying soccer, five minutes in class was enough for me. You know, the kind of 41:00kid that -- that hangs out of class. And --
CW:So when you were at the religious school, had you had much exposure to the
yontoyvim [holidays] before? To the relig-- to Judaism before?
IZ:I was exposed to putting on tefillin. I used to go with my uncle to synagogue
on Saturdays, and we had a Kabbalat Shabbat at my grandmother house. Butsomehow, I learned a lot of religion, but it was in the air. Everything was in 42:00the air. I was in the air, too. Then my mother decided that I should learn aprofession, and she sent me to Tel Aviv to learn electricity in a school. Ididn't understand anything what was going on in class. And I was involved withterrorist group, looking for some adventures. And then, she sent me to a kibbutzin the age of sixteen. The teacher looked at me, he knew my father from Poland,and he looked at me, and he says, "Well, there is something in this boy." And he 43:00asked me -- he asked me about how do I know that the -- when you have what doyou call it -- triangle? What is the --
CW:Area.
IZ:Yeah. I look at it. It was already tenth grade. I had no idea, I looked at
it, looked at it, and I said, "You know, what I suggest -- let's take two ofthem together, then we will have long and width, and we will double them, andthen we will have it." He says, "You're right." And I says, "You know that Iinvented it?" Look at me, he say, "There is something in this boy." Took me to 44:00-- and I stay since 1945, I am in Beth Alfa. Nineteen-forty-eight, I went to avery bitter war, very bitter war that I hardly came out alive. And I wrote abook about it, which I'm trying to find someone to translate it into English.It's called -- how it's called -- "To Turn Off The Sun." Why? Because one of thepeople who was with me, his stomach was opened in one of the shells, and all his 45:00pipes were going down. And he saw me passing, he called me, says, "Look, I gotmarried a week ago. I want so much to live. Take me with you." I said, "How canI take you with me? It's the middle of the day, and we are far in the Negev. Andif the Egyptian see me carrying you, we both will be killed." And he said, "God,turn off the sun so he can take me. You did it once in the Bible, I reckon."This gives you an idea. But let me jump little bit.
CW:Sure.
IZ:When I -- many years later, when I came to America, and I was translating my
46:00father's books and stories, my father knew Midrashic Hebrew. And we used to goover, and one day, I remember I wrote the word "sinaah," "hatred." Said, "It'stoo strong. Give me another word." And we were thinking and thinking, until Ijumped to the word "tinah [Hebrew: spite]." Says, "That's the word!" And hestarted to tell me his first years in America, he starved to -- he almoststarved, he couldn't work, he couldn't write because everything was strange tohim, and unfriendly. And he told me about all these stories, and I said, "Look, 47:00I don't blame you. Whatever happened between you and my mother, it's yourbusiness, and her business. I'm not in your business, and I'm not side in thiskind of thing." And I told him about the bitter battle. And then he looked at mewith his blue, big eyes, and said, "Tell me. Did it happened on -- on Decembertwenty-eighth? twenty-three?" I jumped out of my chair. "How did you know?" Said"I walked that day to Steinberg Restaurant, and I felt a terrible thing happen 48:00-- is happening to you. I jumped to a telephone booth, trying to call you up.All lines were busy, it was impossible to reach Israel, and I remained in thislittle booth, saying kaddish on you." You know what is kaddish? "Sure that youare dead." I said, "Really?" He said, "Yes." That brings me to another story.It's okay?
CW:Yes.
IZ:When I was in Shfeya, you remember this school for youngsters? And we were
49:00cleaning the walls, that there was no system of --
CW:Septic. Yeah.
IZ:Huh?
CW:Septic. No septic system.
IZ:Right.
CW:Yeah. And we were stink, and everything! And we got everyday four cigarettes,
we were fourteen years old, to somehow kind of compensation. All of a sudden,the manager of the village show up. And he says, "Singer, get out! I need you."Whenever the manager calls you, it means he throw you out of the village. I ask, 50:00"What did I do? Why he is throwing me out?" And all my friends were veryunhappy, too. I went and I took a shower, and I came to his office, and he saidto me, "Mr. Sin-- Singer, Israel Singer, your father died in America." And heshows me the picture of I.J. Singer. I didn't even distinguish. And I was kindof relieve. At least he doesn't throw me out of the village. Then he asked me,"Do you want anything that I can help you with?" I said, "Yes, number one, Iwant to get back to get the cigarettes. Number two, I should stop cleaning up " -- 51:00
CW:The toilet.
IZ:The toilets. "And number three, I would like to stay in bed." And I remember
myself, staying in bed, and reading Polish books -- translated Polish books intoHebrew, of -- what was his name? It will come. He wrote all kind of veryimportant books. And he said, "Well" -- all my friends said, "Well, you'relucky. You got the cigarettes, you got -- and you don't have to clean upanything." But I forgot, when I was with him, with the manager, with the 52:00principal of the village, said, "Say now kaddish." He gave me a kippah, and gaveme a siddur [Hebrew: prayer book], and I was reading kaddish, and I said, "Youread kaddish, and I read kaddish." After two, three weeks, the teacher of minetold me, "This wasn't your father who died, but your uncle. That's fine withme." Stories, eh?
CW:Yeah. (laughs) So you write that you had letters from your father at this
time, to -- but -- can you tell me -- what did you think of your father duringthis -- so many years that you didn't know --
IZ:All my love has dried. Not seeing your father for twenty-five years, the
53:00letters that he used to write to me were in a Midrashic style. "Atah chafetz[Midrashic Hebrew: do you want]" instead of "atah rotzeh [modern Hebrew: do youwant]," "atah chafetz" -- "do you want" -- all kind of word that we are notusing, I was very ashame of him. He didn't mean to me anything -- I went to thewar, I was already -- I lived with a girlfriend. He meant nothing to me. Hardlyone of his books was translated into Hebrew, "The Family Moskat," and I didn'tbother to read it. I rejected -- I took him out of my life. From the age of five 54:00to the age of twenty-five, what remain -- his letters, I still remember, he usedto, once a month -- once a year, he sent me three dollars. And I used to buypiece of chocolate, and divide it into the people in my class. They'd say, "Whenyour father again is going to send you money?" They thought it was a wonderfulidea, this was an American chocolate that we bought. But before I went toAmerica, my mother wanted to tell me all his nasty thing towards her, said, "Idon't want to hear. I want to come to him tabula rasa, without anything. I don't 55:00want to hear anything."
CW:So how did that come about, that you decided to go to America to meet him?
IZ:After the war, and after everything, I came back to the kibbutz, and little
by little, he became a little bit famous. But then, one of my friends went toAmerica through exchange of students. And I said to him -- and he wrote letters,how America is beautiful. So I said to myself, out of curiosity, "I have afather there, maybe I should go there, too, and see America." And I sent him aletter, twelve pages, saying how I want to meet him. He promised to take me in 56:001935 when he left, and I kept this with me. Whenever I suffered during my youth-- I used to say to the people, "Wait, wait! My father comes back and he willsmash all of you." I didn't realize that he was such a -- (laughs) -- weakperson. And I wrote him a letter. At that time, "Family Moskat" was published,and the Israeli editorial staff refused to change the Israeli lirot, the Israeli 57:00money to dollars. And then, he said, "Look, go to 'Am oved,'" that's the name ofthe publishing company, "Take the $300 that they owe me, and come." And rightaway, he thought -- he bought for himself and for me a ticket that after twoweeks, we will go back. This will be the end of this story of his son. I knewnothing, and I went to the -- and I was told that people from kibb-- from theleftist kibbutz that I belonged to, American won't accept. You have to change 58:00your identity card, so you live in Haifa, and someone gave me another placewhere I work, was -- what you call it -- artificial --
CW:Insemination.
IZ:Exactly. And when I was, after a couple of months, invited to the council, he
was in Haifa. He look at this and say, "Wow, you have a wonderful job! Could youtell me something about it? How do you do it?" How do I do it? I said, "Well, Itake some pills with me, and I stick my hand --" "What do you feel?" "Well," Isaid -- "Do you enjoy it?" He was a disturbed person, that men. And he said, 59:00"Well, I would like to come in to see you doing it." I said, "Okay, tell me inadvance," so I said I will send him with someone who does it, because I knewnothing about it. "And do you belong to any political party?" I said, "Chasve--shelo -- cha-- [Hebrew: God forbi-- 'course not] -- no, nothing." And despiteit, he gave me a visa for three months. Kibbutz people were shocked, and I said,"Well, I'm going to see my father! I didn't see him for twenty years!" You know-- I'm using my father as an excuse for going. And what was your next question?
CW:Why --
IZ:How we met?
CW:Yeah! What was your --
IZ:I wrote so much about this business.
CW:Yeah.
IZ:But I'll make it short. I got on a boat, by name Jerusalem, eighteen thousand
60:00tons. And it took eighteen days to reach the United States, eighteen days,believe me. On the way, we stop at Ceuta, Spanish Morocco, there is a littleplace like this, and I say -- I see all the sailors running out. I said,"People, where are you going?" They say, "We are going to a museum." I said,"Why don't you take me with you?" "Come on!" We went not to museum, but awhorehouse. I hardly -- escaped from there, but since then, when somebody ask me 61:00about museum, that is my memory! And on the boat, I said to myself, "Well, Imust buy him some present." I had ten dollars with me. I went to the shop of theship, of the boat, and the lady ask -- I said, "Look, I have ten dollars withme." She wanted me to buy a sack of self -- of --
CW:Sand.
IZ:Sand of the state of Israel. I bought a little something of grass. And I
62:00remember when an American tourist used to come to the kibbutz, was always fat,with a big cigarette, and he used to look around, and say, "Well, what abeautiful place!" Turn of the car, and going away. Say, "Well, if my father looklike them?" No chance. And all the time, I ask -- I was on the boat, I askmyself, "What father means to me? What do we have in common? No love, nosympathy. He writes Yiddish, I don't know any Yiddish. He's probablyimperialist, I am socialist. He lives in the exile, I neglect exile. I think all 63:00the Jews should come to Israel. Any -- he hate Stalin, he thought he was amurderer, I was a Stalinist. What remains between us, what -- How am I going tosee America?" 'Cause that's what I wanted to see, not -- He was the last thingthat bothered me. I'm telling you the truth, you know. Anyhow, we reached, aftereighteen days we were supposed to land at seven o'clock in the morning, andthere was a big fog. And we land around ten o'clock in the evening. Before it, 64:00about when we were about ten miles from the port, an American agent from the --what do you call this department that deals with -- immigration, came up to thedeck, and wanted to see the people, and to register them. And I was called bymicrophone, and he said, "Where you going?" -- he asked me, "Where are goingto?" I said, "To my father." "Oh! How long didn't you see him?" "For twentyyears." "Oh, my God! And how long do you want to say with him?" Said, "Maybethree months," I said. "That's all?" I felt like he was a father of a son, said, 65:00"We are not cruel to our citizen. I will give you a visa for six months." Wewere -- we reached the port. We went down. I don't see him on the deck -- underthe -- not on the deck, but downstairs, you know, where the people are waiting.What I tell one of the sailors, I said, "No problem! Let's call his wife." Andhe called 411, got her telephone number, and I say, "Hello? The son is 66:00speaking." "Oh, Guee-Guee, I'm very happy you came!" This is Alma, his secondwife. "Where is my father? He is sick?" Said, "No. From seven o'clock in themorning, he is waiting for you." Said, "Oh, my God!" She said, "What happened tohim?" Said, "Don't worry! I'll find him." (Christa laughs) You know the Israeliself-confidence. And I see somebody standing, round little bit, red face,looking on the boat here and there. And I ask myself, "Do we look like?" Icouldn't say. Then I stood near him, we both were standing and looking at theboat. And then I ask him, "Perhaps you are Mr. Singer?" Says, "Perhaps." "And 67:00perhaps you are my father?" He looked at me, and he said, "Listen. Maybe when Iwas young, I may -- I had all kind of business and all kind of women. Maybe oneof the girls gave birth to a baby, and after many years, you come, and you wantpart of my inherit-- you want to inherit me." I realized right away, "That's notthe man." And then, I was chase out from the port, it was a rainy day, terriblerain was going out. As I go out of the port, there was a little fence, and bunch 68:00of people were standing there. I keep on going, and then I hear, "Guee-Guee?" Ilook at him, and say, "This is the exactly face that I remember it somehow, witha grey pullover, no hair, very red hair -- not hair, but red face. And he gaveme a kiss, un-shaved, he was. And I looked at him, and I said -- I didn't say aword. He said, "Let's take a taxi to my home." I said, "Why a taxi? We nevertake a taxi. Taxi is for bourgeoisie. Let's walk home." You know, my ideas -- 69:00let's take a taxi. And he got a taxi, and he said to the driver, "Drive to myhome." He lived at that time on fourth and -- Central Park West around 101stStreet, go through Broadway area, he wanted to impress me. And we got to thecar, and I felt terrible. I remember myself putting my forehead on the coldwindow, and I said to myself, "I don't know how I was saved from the war." Every 70:00night we used to go and attack the Egyptian positions. We used to do it atnight, because we didn't have enough arms. During the day, there were many morepeople, and then -- and the people who were killed and injured were staying inthe same room -- the same kind of house made of clay, Arabic village, andslipped one-by-one, and I said, "Well, this night is my turn to die." All thepeople that lay down there were already killed. I said goodbye to him, to my 71:00mother in my heart, and I said, "Well, there is nothing I can do." And I waswaiting for three knocks of the weapon to start running. And then, I hear on thewireless, "Don't fire. We are going back. A cease-fire with the Egyptian hasbeen signed." I said, "Well, my life probably was given to me." My father lookedat me, and he said, "If you are alive, you must have -- somebody decided thatyou should stay alive." (points up) He meant God. I say to myself, "Is father 72:00with such a deep thing, that he knows what his son is thinking of?" And wereached his house, it was probably one or two o'clock. In the salon -- they put,there was a bed in the salon. They had a nice apartment, but a small one,one-bedroom. And I went to sleep, got up in the morning. I saw him sitting onthe armchair, writing, and once in a while, looking at me.
IZ:Then he says, "You want breakfast?" I said, "Okay." He gave me cheese -- what
IZ:Cream cheese, one cup, and orange juice, and he says, "That's enough. You are
too heavy. Do you want to see a museum?" I said, "Of course." Although I thoughtof another museum, but nevertheless! He took me to the Museum of Modern Art. Ilook, and I saw pictures that I have learned about them, famous painters. Andafter ten minutes, he says, "Okay, that's enough. Let's go home. I have work todo." And I realize he has no time for me. What am I going to do? I was on the 74:00thirteen -- on the fourteenth store, looking down to the Central Park --
CW:Park.
IZ:Everything green, nice. And then I said to myself, "Well, maybe Ha-Shomer
ha-Tsa'ir has an office in this area. I open a telephone book, open H, I seeHa-Shomer ha-Tsa'ir. I called up, and I say, "That's Israel Zamir. Does anybodyspeak here Hebrew?" Somebody took it, somebody said, "Yes, I am here, shaliach[Hebrew: messenger], representing." I say, "My name is Israel Zamir. I am fromKibbutz Beit Alfa. I worked on a kibbutz in the youth movement." Said, "How did 75:00you reach America? America is McCarthyism. People from Europe are not allowed tocome in." I said, "Well, I have a different --" I tell them a story. And then,he ask me, "Do you have any money?" I said, "No." He gave me a dollar, onedollar. He doesn't eat lunch at home, and he said, "Get along with it." I saidto myself, "He doesn't give me money. That means either he doesn't have, or hedoesn't feel that I belong to him, or there is anything between us." I didn'tsay a word, I said thank you. I went to Eighty-eighth Street -- we were 101st -- 76:00to Eighty-ninth Street to the Ha-Shomer ha-Tsa'ir Club. They were very happy tosee me. I didn't speak any English, but they had a feeling that somehow, I canhelp them. And I used to come to them -- when they used to go to eat lunch, Iremember -- I learned one sentence. And I used to say to the waiter, "What kindof soup do you have?" And whatever he say whatever, "Yes." That's -- and I usedto eat it with a lot of bread. I didn't have any money. They look at me, say,"Do you want anything else?" I say, "Nah!" I said. "I have a father who is avery famous writer, and who is probably rich and -- don't worry!" They were 77:00enough intelligent to understand what happened. On the third day, they ask me ifI can drive a truck, I said, "Of course, look, I come from a kibbutz!" They askme to drive a truck with some stuff to a summer camp in upstate New York inLiberty, and they gave me three hundred dollars for expenses for anything. Isaid, "What will I do with so much money?" And he says, "You can buy a whole potof soup." (Christa laughs) In the evening, my father comes, "How are you?" Isaid, "I'm fine." Takes out the dollar, I say, "No, I don't need your dollar.""Listen, in America, if somebody gives you money, always take!" And I pull out 78:00my three hundred dollars. "Oh, my God! Did you rob a bank? What happened? Wheredid you get so much money? I hardly see so much money!" I said, "I'm a truckdriver." "You mean, you got a job?" "Yes, I got a job." And then, all of asudden, he hug me and kiss me, called Alma, and he said, "This son is all right!It's been three days here, and he already made money. For seven years, I livedhere, and I couldn't make any money, almost. I almost died. And here -- threedays." This was probably one of the walls that was collapsed. This was thesecond one, the first one collapsed when he asked me in the car, "If you alive,if mean that you have to alive and to stay." The third wall collapsed after 79:001956, when there was the twentieth convention of the Soci -- Communist Party,and Khrushchev discovered all the corruptions of Stalin. And I said to myself,"What I am going to do?" Until now, I thought that Russia build Socialism intheir country, and we built Socialism in our kibbutz. I was terribly mad. And he-- and I asked my father, "Did you read about it in 'The New York Times'?" Hesaid, "Yes, I told you that Stalin is a murderer. Come to me, we will talk about 80:00it," he said. I went to him, and then after five minutes, there was a call, hehas to go "Forverts." And to bring an article. Not being sent by any -- anybody.And he says, "Took -- yesterday, I finished write this story. Read it, and waittill I come." And he wrote a story, "The Key." Are you familiar with it?
CW:No.
IZ:It's a very nice story. And he came back, he says, "What do you think of the
story?" And I started to analyze it, and to praise it. And then he said, (snapshis fingers), "Translate my stuff into Hebrew." "Me? My Yiddish is so poor, I 81:00know nothing." "It's even better. I'm now changing all my books, taking away allthe quotation from the Bible, from the Talmud, making it in such a way, thateverybody can read it. You will come once a year. When you finish, you come tome, and we will go over, and read it." We started always to read it, and littleby little, we build a very nice corrective, without being too in love. It cameto such a point, that when he was handling all kind of love affairs with women, 82:00he used to call me, say, "Look, tell Alma that I at am your house." -- This isthe story.
CW:How did you figure out what language to speak when you -- with him?
IZ:I started to speak a very poor English. I remember that the first summer
camp, I went to all of this -- I was asked to buy a couple of sheets. I went toa store, and I asked, "I want a couple of shit." They were almost -- they jumpedout of laugh. Said, "Well, I don't know English." I learned by -- without anychoice, but I learned it fast, because I used to buy The New York Times every 83:00day, and forced myself to read everything, and day by day, I understood more andmore. And I had to speak to the kids, English! And --
CW:At Ha-Shomer ha-Tsa'ir? Yeah. How -- can you tell me what his apartment
looked like?
IZ:Which one? The one on Eighty-sixth Street?
CW:Yeah.
IZ:He had one bedroom, where they slept. He had a big salon, kitchen. And he had
a little room where used to put all his writing, all his stuff that he didn't need. 84:00
CW:Yeah.
IZ:One day, when we used to sit there, and discuss it, and he used to sit with
an open door, and he used to pull out things -- pull out magazines, newspapers,texts that he had written. And then, he found a box full of stories, and hesaid, "Oh my God! I know that five years ago, there was a flood here, and I wassure that everything was destroyed. I need another hundred years to translateeverything!" (Christa laughs softly) When I came with my son to vis-- with mychildren after his death to his apartment, a musician hired it -- rented it. And 85:00he change it entirely. I didn't remember, my wife said, "Here was this, and herewas there."CW:Um-hm. So you mentioned about translating. And how did yourimpression of your father's work change over time?
IZ:When Stalin and everything collapsed, I first time started to read his books.
And I was already clean from social realism, and I started to like his writing.Took me a lot of time.
IZ:I don't know Yiddish. I understand Yiddish, but I don't read Yiddish. I can
read the letters, and I don't write Yiddish. I didn't have any -- not any need.I was for thirty-two years, a journalist. I finished being editor of a dailynewspaper, and I had no free time.
CW:Right! (laughs) I'm just gonna move this really quick. Here. Umm --
IZ:Don't we sit too long?
CW:I just have a few more questions, is that okay? Okay. Can you describe what
CW:Well, I wanna know from your perspective. When you -- you said you imagined
him to be a fat American, you thought maybe he would be strong, and beat up your enemies.
IZ:When I saw him getting off the boat, and he said, "Guee-Guee!" I said,
"That's exactly how I thought he looks like." Everything jumped up. Big nose,and big ears. I used to laugh at him, and little bit thin legs, eating fast,running fast. Kind of nervousness.
CW:Can you tell me about -- I know he used to walk and feed the pigeons.
IZ:Are you going to be tonight at my lecture? You will read -- you will hear
this story that I am telling from my book. He believes -- how you call it --incineration? Inserenation?
CW:Reincarnation.
IZ:How?
CW:Reincarnation?
IZ:Yeah. Incarnation?
CW:Reincarnation.
IZ:So he believed that one day, one of us may become pigeons. Or cats, or --
anything. He loved birds, he had two birds in his apartment. He was afraid ofdogs. He was in love with Mr. Isaac Bashevis Singer. If you are not connected to 89:00his writing, you are out of his picture. All his friends are: editors,translators, proofers, all kinds of things like this. So once I starttranslating, I became part of the family. I didn't know it. He didn't know iteither. When he asked me to -- I asked him, "Why did you ask me to translateyour stuff?" He said, "I don't know. I just throw it out." A lot of things hethrows out, and afterwards, things are changing. 90:00
CW:Other family also translated, right? Joseph --
IZ:Joseph Singer translated a lot of stuff from Yiddish to English. And Joseph
told me that his father -- that my father didn't pay enough, didn't pay himenough. He was very unhappy.
CW:Did he pay you?
IZ:Never! But he used to say -- he used to bring me to send money for flight
tickets. But he says, "When I die, you will have enough money, don't worry." Andit happens very many long time. I needed money to help my children. I didn't ask him.
CW:Right. You -- people talk about how he -- and you talk about how he re-writes
in translating. Can you talk about what that experience was like with the translating?
IZ:He realized that the religious -- the Jews with their religious background,
appreciate his writing. Other people get lost in all the quotations from theBible, from the Talmud, from -- and he said to himself, "If I want to be apopular writer, I should find a way." And then he took back most of his stuff,and he cleaned a tremendous amount of things. He says also that the Yiddish is 92:00such a rich language, that it didn't -- it covered some of the dramatic motifsthat weren't enough developed." Now when he has the story naked, he re-write itagain. And so, everybody can read it, and everybody can like it. There are somecritics, mainly Jewish, that didn't like. They say, "Nobody -- Tolstoy,Hemingway, anybody -- nobody took back his writing, and change it." And he says,"Both the -- both texts are like brothers, are with a certain merit." 93:00
CW:What language did he send you with to translate? Did you try to translate
from the Yiddish?
IZ:From the English.
CW:English. And then, once you did your translation, he would fly you to New
York, and --
IZ:And we used to sit together, go over, and he loved to tell me about himself.
He loved to take me to Steinberg's, and after, to the West Restaurant, and tomeet all kinds of women that afterwards I met them in his stories. He actually 94:00was a journalist who knew how to listen, and to interview his people withoutwriting a word, and changing everything. This was a pure journalism. When Ibecame journalist, I started to interview, and when my paper has been closed in203rd, I open the switch of -- literature, and just this day, came out my ninth book.
CW:So you -- what did you think of America? The real reason you met your father
was, you said -- sort of -- to see America. So what did you think?
IZ:Look, I have learned tremendous amount of America. I stayed in the years of
95:001966 till '69. America at that time went through very, very hard time. MartinLuther King was killed, Bobby Kennedy was killed. There was the big rebellion inthe universities, the business with the blacks and Harlem, and -- I foundAmerica a country which has been changing itself, and fighting for different wayof life. But in a very sharp way, and a very cruel way, and it impressed me very 96:00much. I said to myself, "If Israel would have gone such big changes, it wouldhave -- it wouldn't be so bad." So American changed a great deal of things in mylife, because I -- look, you -- I went to Washington during the Six-Day War.Afterwards the Pentagon was one -- surrounded, and I was there, too. I sawAmerica in its fight, and it impressed me very much, and -- I don't want to sayI like America, but I sympathize America very much. 97:00
CW:What do you think was your father's opinion about America?
IZ:Once he was asked to say in a few sentences what he thinks of New York. So he
said it in one word. "Rush."
CW:He said once, "I never left Poland." Do you think he ever felt American?
IZ:He was American in his own way. But he was a Jewish writer first, writing in
Yiddish. Knowing that America accepted him, and through America, the whole worldaccepted him and Yiddish. And he got his Nobel Prize, so he was thankful to 98:00America, and he spent in America more years than in Poland. And he wasn'tinvolved in the problems of America, but he was thankful to America that let himlive the way he did.
CW:Did -- you talked about how reading his literature at different times of your
life was different. What is his writing -- when you read his work now, what doesit mean to you?
IZ:Look, I read his stuff, and some of the stuff, I do criticize. I'm not
99:00fanatic in everything that he wrote. And some of the book that he didn't print,because he thought they were not good enough. It was Alma after his death, said,"Well, if there is a book that can make money, why should it stay in thecloset?" And she, within a certain period, published anything that can makemoney. I wasn't very happy in some of his books, but I see that people -- a lotof people saying, "Well, if he wrote it, it must be good." But all together, was 100:00a great, great writer. Look, I remember when he write, "Scum." He started tospeak -- style of -- what you call of the street in Warsaw? Krochmalna. This --the style of the thieves, of these people he was so much emotionally involved,and trying to be as authentic as he could. And it very impressed me.
CW:So why do you think people still read his work?
IZ:Because it is modern. Any page brings you a new storm, a new knowledge. And
CW:(laughs) So what was that like, to have you and your father
--
IZ:It didn't come in English. I'll tell you a story which will amaze you. Look,
he was accepted as a god. The Swedish people felt that Bashevis demons are liketheir little -- what do you call?
CW:Troll. Trolls, maybe?
IZ;Yes, like their little -- (UNCLEAR). And they loved him, and he knew how to
102:00amuse them. And he prepared himself very carefully. I was sent there as ajournalist, as well as his son. Maybe I'll tell you a story which you neverheard. The question was, on the date of the big ceremony, how do I cover thewhole thing, and it will come out in Israel on time? My paper was closed attwelve o'clock. I saw a journalist from Maariv, from a daily newspaper that isclosed at four o'clock in the morning, so he had plenty of time to write. What 103:00am I going to do? So they put me near the -- I was sitting near the foreignminister of Sweden, and the place was full of guards, and so on. So, "What I amgoing to do?" I'm going, "How am I going to report?" Journalists did not write areport, the things didn't happen. Eleven o'clock, already. If within fifteenminutes, I don't go out and report, it was impossible to move there. After thespeeches, there were dancing. I wrote down everything that he spoke and othersspoke. I had a little notebook. Then I said to this -- I saw, two hundred meters 104:00from me, a door. I asked the foreign minister where this door takes you go? Hesaid, "Well, if a big -- if a big gal-- if a big ceremony takes place untillate, there is a bedroom of the king and the queen on the second floor." Tenafter eleven, I said, "Either you are a journalist, or you are not." All of asudden, I said, "Excuse me." And people are running -- people were dancing,hundreds, groups, teams were dancing, all kind of things. I, with a, you know,with a tuxedo, got up, and started to cross all the lines all the way to the 105:00door. Everybody says, "Well, he probably got a diarrhea, or something like this!Who knows?" I was going like a soldier, "Excuse me! Excuse me! Excuse me! Excuseme!" Nobody knew. I reach the door, closed up, opened it up. When I opened thedoor, I saw a kind of kingdom bed, you know, with this cover above, andeverything. And a telephone. I jumped on the telephone, and dialed the office ofmy newspaper. And a girl answered me, I said, "Look, I'm at the bedroom of theking and the queen of Sweden. Please listen! I will dictate you." At that time, 106:00there wasn't all this business, "I will dictate you the story. You write as fastas you can, because pretty soon, I'm going to be caught, and who knows what'sgoing to happen?" She said, "Are you really? Or are you kidding? Come on!" Istarted to dictate, and every time, "Are you really serious about it?" Twentyminutes, I dictate the whole story, and then I felt up two guards caught me. Isaid to her, "Miriam, I was caught. You got all the story! Good luck." And theyask, "What are you doing here?" I said, "Look, I am an Israeli --" "Israeli?"They started to look under the bed. They started to open all the closets. I 107:00said, "I am a journalist. I am the son of Isaac Bashevis Singer." "We don't knowanybody by name Isaac Bashevis Singer!" And within twenty minutes, maybe forty,fifty FBI people, Swedish FBI people come in and were looking, and all over theplace. And I said to myself, "Well, I'm going to spend the night at prison. Myfather probably will not like it. There will be headlines." But I couldn'tbehave different way, until they didn't know what to do. Because they realizedthat once, the whole story comes up, they all will be fired, because justimagine an Israeli terrorist snuck into such a -- And all of a sudden, I see the 108:00Minister of Defense with his -- with the --
CW:Tie?
IZ:Yeah, with the tie, and with tuxedo like me, walk in. And he realized that he
finished his job, that's the end of it. And he walks to me, "I don't care aboutanything, how did you do it? And how did you dare?" And then, all of a sudden, Isay, "Look, I have a little white ring that before the ceremony, I was givenbecause I and my father will be invited to the king -- something sixteen Alfred,or -- I don't remember, and to speak to him and to his wife." And he say, "Oh, 109:00what is this?" I said, "I got it because I am going to be with my father, and weare going be invited to a short discussion with my father." He look at it, andhe recognize the symbol, and all of a sudden, he say, "Everybody out!" They say,"What do you mean, 'Everybody out?' Are you going to stay with a terrorist justby yourself?" "Everybody out!" They all left. He took me like we were the bestfriends in the world, said, "Come on, let's go down." Each one of us went to his place.
CW:Wow.
IZ:And the next day, the whole story was published, and my editors were very,
CW:(laughs) Well, I'll just ask you two more questions, okay? One is, you write
that your father's whole life changed after the Nobel Prize. He couldn't talk tothe pigeons, he couldn't--
IZ:He could, but people used to follow him, somebody with a picture. Somebody
used to all of a sudden hug him, and then he couldn't go out. So he used to goaround the little court, he felt like a prisoner. 111:00
CW:You are a writer, too, a journalist. And you write your own. What is the part
of your identity to have Isaac Bashevis Singer as your father? Has that -- whatdoes that mean to you, if anything?
IZ:Look -- I became proud of him -- I became his son, whether I wanted or not, I
became kind of representative of his. I read all his stuff. I read most of thearticle about him. I wrote a great deal of things about him, and -- somehow, hebecame part of my blood. And I started with a strange man, and I came deeply 112:00involved in his life, although you cannot compare our love like my love towardsmy children that I raised them. We became very close friends, and people that weappreciated each other, because he read my translation, and he liked them. Hesaid, "You are using exactly the word that I wanted you to use!"
CW:Do you think he loved you?
IZ:I'm not sure that he knows what is love. If I were a woman, he might have
loved me. Because to love -- he would say -- he would give you an answer, "Of 113:00course, I love him!" You know, he was -- one day, my fourth son, Yuval, wasborn, and he came to Haifa. I said, "Come on, let's go up to my kibbutz, and youwill see my children, my family. I have four children." He said, "Look, you knowI'm not a family man. I speak about your family because people -- Americanpeople love big families, and all this. But I am not like this."
CW:A hartsikn dank -- thank you very much.
IZ:You're welcome.
CW:It was really a koved [honor] to meet you and speak with you. An honor.