Alex Kudera's Blog, page 44

not the best I could do

"He was assessing me now. Was I using too many paper products? Yes. Did I really need a full shower when a washcloth rinse would do? I supposed not. Walk whenever possible; drive only if you must. Of course. Avoid elevators; take the stairs. From now on, I would. Change would be good for me. Moving more would be good for me. Stationary bike or lap lane? Sure. Finishing this cheeseburger and cola was not the best I could do, and ordering a hot fudge sundae would work against my interests."

a primitive way

"My strength was nearly depleted when Avi stopped pressing hard against me; at last, I could see he was no threat to attack. I didn’t see anything we could win by furthering this contest, and I recognized that Avi’s theft was the initiation of the physical encounter, if not the first act of aggression. In hindsight, it’s hard to remember another time when anything I was involved with was settled in such a primitive way."

Hunger

"Here in the ghetto, hunger encompasses more and more circles. There is already a feeling of shame at being full. . . .
"Our friend receives a letter from Warsaw: his father, mother, and brother-in-law have died of hunger.
"I know of cases of cooking potato skins, cases of poor people not wanting to take any money. They beg for a crust of bread.
"People walk around half wild, mean, upset—doctors explain it as hunger. . . .
"The same hunger increases many new diseases of hunger among us. But we shall write separately about that."
~~ from The Last Days of the Jerusalem of Lithuania: Chronicles from the Vilna Ghetto and the Camps, 1939—1944 by Herman Kruk

no conversion required

"Whereas Avi wanted me to know who I could become, the boy already knew who I was. An identification, no conversion required.

"He appointed me as his countryman, but he didn’t stop and give me time to pledge allegiance."

squalid, cozy, overpriced, plain

"Overseas, again, yes. I know. I admit it, I’ve seen my share of international airports. I’ve blended in with tourists and businessmen. I played 'the normie'—one of them. Airports offer an oversupply of oversized Americans, middle-age men and women who, impossibly, fit into economy passenger seats. In Asia, I’ve seen the long lines of foreign students eager to embrace America . . .

"You may be asking, 'Was he ever at home?'

"Certainly so; I lived at home—my share of studios, efficiencies, and junior one-bedrooms, my mother’s apartment, a friend’s couch. Various arrangements—squalid, cozy, overpriced, plain. I knew Murphy beds and futons thrown on the floor; minifridges without a freezer; electric-range only, no full-sized oven or no oven; and metal fire escapes, stored in a painted box, to be thrown out the window ahead of me. I’ve worked in several sections of America, and I’ve seen entire towns of people poorer than me. Obese and depressed; wobbling through Walmarts. I’ve lived among them."

#awp22

If you're around the AWP Bookfair on Saturday, I may be able to help you acquire a copy of Auggie's Revenge or the reprint of Fight for Your Long Day.

something is rotten

"Rumors reach us everywhere that something is rotten among the Germans. Demoralization is rising over their heads. Through the intervention of Jews, Germans buy gold and furs, they take money left and right, deal in Jewish property and estates, etc.

"Most of the soldiers, from the lowest to the highest rank, are drinking horribly. They themselves recognize that going to the front is certain death. . . . The certainty of victory has long vanished from their mouths; on the contrary, sayings mocking the Führer abound, showing clearly that the stem is rotting away."

~~ from The Last Days of the Jerusalem of Lithuania: Chronicles from the Vilna Ghetto and the Camps, 1939—1944 by Herman Kruk

March 24, 1942

"'Blessed be He who has kept us alive and sustained us to reach this present time.'"

~~ from The Last Days of the Jerusalem of Lithuania: Chronicles from the Vilna Ghetto and the Camps, 1939—1944 by Herman Kruk

a city has died

"The Germans entered in June [1941], now it's February, seven long months now. But Vilna still doesn't seem to have awoken. A kind of lethargic sleep hangs on the city, on her narrow, crooked side streets, her church towers, and on the dead walls that divide the city from the ghetto, from Ghetto I and from the barely remaining traces of Ghetto 2.
"The stores are locked up with a holiday calm. The dulled courtyards of the Jewish district are frightening in their emptiness. Niemiecka [Street], the main artery of the Vilna business district, is a quiet, calm alley, which doesn't remember life. The Poles I meet on the street look at me, frightened. All around, a dead emptiness and, over the city, from one end to the other, a terrible melancholy circulates—a city has died.
"Vilna in February 1942."
~~ from The Last Days of the Jerusalem of Lithuania: Chronicles from the Vilna Ghetto and the Camps, 1939—1944 by Herman Kruk

wellness

"Before the monthlong dedication took hold, it had been wellness week. Before that it had been a day. I didn't mind Wellness Wednesday or Week; I found the alliteration catchy. But wellness month had no alliteration, and given the slow trend toward more, wellness year was next.

"What was wellness anyway? Was it anything like Loch Ness, like a seemingly placid lake with an unknowable monster hiding inside?"

~~ from Joan Is Okay by Weike Wang