“Memory, in short, is engraved not merely by the life we have led but by the life of the mind…by all the lives we so nearly led but missed by an inch, and—if we grant enough leeway to the imagination—by the lives of others, which can cut into ours every bit as sharply as our own experience.” – Anthony Lane, writing about W.G. Sebald in The New Yorker (May 29, 2000)
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Tag Archives: Cynthia Ozick
From Russia with love—unexpected gifts and the open horizons of youth
Last week I met Cynthia Ozick, stood within (almost) spitting distance of Meryl Streep, and received a surprise package from Russia. First of all, I would never, ever spit at Meryl Streep. She is amazing. Since I first saw her … Continue reading
Posted in Memory, Motherhood, Poland, Russia, Writing & Reading
Tagged Cynthia Ozick, In My Mother's House, Kim Chernin, memory, Meryl Streep, Moscow, motherhood, russia, women writers
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What Cynthia Ozick said to me—and a few other things
So, the hours I was supposed to spend yesterday morning revising yesterday’s (that is today’s) blog post, I ended up passing at the Hospital for Joint Diseases. No, nothing serious. At least that’s how I prefer to think about loss … Continue reading
Posted in Memory, Suicide, War, Writing & Reading
Tagged Cynthia Ozick, memory, National Arts Club, post-traumatic stress disorder, reading, suicide, ulnar nerve, VIDA, women writers, World War II, writing
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Kara Krauze 