By Marianne Hirsch
In modern day Ukraine, east of the Carpathian Mountains, there's an invisible urban. often called Czernowitz, the "Vienna of the East" less than the Habsburg empire, this brilliant Jewish-German jap ecu tradition vanished after global warfare II--yet an idealized model lives on, suspended within the thoughts of its dispersed humans and handed all the way down to their childrens like a important and haunted heirloom. during this unique combination of background and communal memoir, Marianne Hirsch and Leo Spitzer chronicle the city's survival in own, familial, and cultural reminiscence. They locate facts of a worldly tradition of nostalgic lore--but additionally of oppression, shattered supplies, and shadows of the Holocaust in Romania. Hirsch and Spitzer current the 1st ancient account of Jewish Czernowitz within the English language and supply a profound research of memory's echo throughout generations.
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Additional info for Ghosts of Home: The Afterlife of Czernowitz in Jewish Memory
We circled through newer and older parts of a dark city in which my parents tried hard, but were unable, to recognize any familiar landmarks, although at one point they thought we were passing the central railroad station. They called out street names in German, asking each other whether this, by any chance, was the Siebenbürgerstrasse or the Hauptstrasse. Alexei, a Lviv native, was equally lost and stopped for directions four times, which was not easy since the streets were almost deserted. At one point, we were forced to back up through an entire street.
And she was my sister’s English teacher,” added Carl. ” Both seemed shaken and saddened by all the familiar names they were encountering and by the cemetery’s desolation. We helped them find small stones to place in commemoration on the graves of friends and relatives along our walk. We were hardly able to penetrate the next sections of the cemetery we came to because of the heavy undergrowth and head-high prickly brush that had enveloped them over the years of neglect. The graves and monuments that remained visible in these sections contrasted significantly with those we had seen in the vicinity of the ceremonial hall.
Sometimes it seems to me that the way Grandfather and Grandmother talk makes Mother uncomfortable, and that she’d prefer for me not to hear their language. ” “Yiddish,” Mother whispers in my ear. A h a ron A ppe l f e l d The Story of a Life T h e J e w ish Ce m et e ry, 1998 In the overcast early afternoon of our second day in Chernivtsi we again met Rosa and Felix, as well as Rosa’s friend Matthias Zwilling, and continued our explorations of the city. Also with us was Othmar Andrée, a German friend who had come to join us in Chernivtsi to make some connections between the present city and the past life of Czernowitz Jews, on which he had begun to do extensive research.