E
Apr/May 2012

e c l e c t i c a   n o n f i c t i o n

Nonfiction


(Click on the title to view the whole piece)
 

The Miracle of My Father's Hat
 
He dug up the gravestones for two years, until he could carry them no more. And as he walked to the edge of the cemetery, to meet the Jewish couple disguised as Christians who had arranged to regularly bring him some bread, a Nazi with a bratworst sandwich in one hand shot him through his hat with the other.
 
Gloria Garfunkel

 

An Innocent Abroad: Into the Holy Land... and Out Again
 
Booked on the maiden voyage of the S.S. BILU, Haifa-bound out of Civitavecchia, we sailed east for three days on a placid Mediterranean. The sun's easy progress over the world made it seem as if we were fixed in a vast translucence of time. If you imagined Homeric days, you could almost believe you were like his hero wandering over a magical sea far from our confused tedious, vexing affairs.
 
Jascha Kessler

 

Jeremiad (Mill Girls of 1912)
 
He came by train sometime after the mill bosses planted dynamite in tenements and tried to get the coppers to believe that it was the I.W.W.—Industrial Workers of the World—Wobblies—cuz everybody knows those bastards are dynamite crazy—sabotage!—ride the rails—ain't got no home—buncha vags—buncha layabouts—lying, thieving bastards wouldn't do a days work if you paid them—always going on about their rights and free speech and taking over the means of production for the ones that actually do the work—always blaspheming against Jesus, property, and apple pie—against everything that makes a manful man tear up when Old Glory passes in parade, and we sure as hell whipped those greasy Spaniards in Cuba in 1898—those monkeys in the Philippines—when our soldiers—our brave boys in blue—roamed the islands in 1899 and just fucking slaughtered them in numbers you wouldn't believe.
 
Stanley Jenkins

 

Urbino: A Summer of Renaissance Harmony
 
On that first encounter with this Renaissance marvel, we sat in its fine main square, the Piazza della Republica, to enjoy our capacinos along with the lively conversations about us, and to savor the grand view of the Palazzo Ducale. All the while, we could allow our children to run about freely among the groups assembled. Inevitably, this being Italia, there were adults to engage and admire them and other children to join in their revels.
 
Julia Braun Kessler

 

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