Новости за 01.06.2018

Every Friday, our resident film fanatic Alex Aciman will dig deep into the pile of cinematic masterpieces and fish out one forgotten classic you should watch soonest.

Unorthodox, Tablet’s weekly podcast, takes questions from its listeners about all aspects of Jewish life, from the religiously profound to the utterly inconsequential. Every week, we discuss one of these questions online in “Ask Unorthodox.” If you have a question, please send it to unorthodox@tabletmag.com.

There aren’t likely many Yiddish speakers in Hawaii, but one might be curious, reading of the eruptions of Hawaii’s Kileaua volcano, about just how one says “volcano” in the mamehloshon. Be curious no longer. It’s vulkan.

Matthew Polly’s Bruce Lee: A Life will be released next week by Simon & Schuster. Polly’s meticulously reported and beautifully written biography of the martial arts master contains many deep pleasures and a few big surprises, none more thrilling than this: Bruce Lee was Jewish.

In 1968, an up-and-coming left-wing politician by the name of Uri Avnery suggested replacing Israel’s national anthem, “Hatikvah.” His proposal was surprising, given the fact that the would-be replacement was the unequivocal anthem of the Six-Day War, “Yerushalayim Shel Zahav.”

Over the past decade, as the prospects of peace between Israelis and Palestinians became ever slimmer, there has been a growing attention to—and, in some quarters, acceptance of—the Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions movement targeting Israel, or BDS. Those drawn to the cause have likely come across the US Campaign for Palestinian Rights, a Virginia-based non-profit organization that serves as the American umbrella group of the BDS movement and is arguably the most prominent promoter of BDS in the United States. Читать дальше...

I am what you may call a Seussian. I learned my English mainly by rhyming fox with box and mouse with house. I made my pilgrimage to the master’s museum in Springfield, Massachusetts, and grinned widely, like a Zable, when I stood in front of his drawing table. I’m the sort of chap who knows that it’s pronounced Zoice, not Soos, which is a fact you should mention often if you’d like to prune your social circle to a minimum. In short, I have nothing but the deepest love for Dr. Seuss’ books.

Between 1948 and 1951, the vast majority of Iraq’s Jewish population of around 150,000 left the country, interrupting a remarkable literary and linguistic heritage. The Talmud, some of which was composed in Iraq, was written partly in Jewish Babylonian Aramaic, a literary dialect using the Hebrew alphabet. The Jews of northern Iraq spoke particular forms of Aramaic, closely related to the Aramaic spoken by their Assyrian neighbors. Ever-decreasing numbers of Jews in Israel speak those dialects—relics of obscure, mainly rural communities. Читать дальше...

Menachem Krigel spent 15 months hiding in a cramped wood store in the home of a Ukrainian peasant who hid him and his mother during World War II. In the weeks after the liberation, as the frontline moved back and forth, they were separated. He has no idea what became of his mother. In his home in Haifa, as he makes coffee in his kitchen, he said recently: “This was for me the moment of trauma. I can never get it out of my mind.”