Customer Reviews

Jew Boy

5 star:		(2)
4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

Like the author, I am also a child of Holocaust Survivors. There are many excellent things about this book. This book clearly demonstrates that suffering did not always end with the Survivors themselves; sometimes we, as their children, also suffered. I put this book at the "extreme" end of 2nd generation stories; Kaufman's mother was very disturbed, and physically abused him. In addition, his father, even though he wasn't a Survivor, did nothing to protect his son from his mother's wrath. If this alone did not make for a miserable childhood, his father squandered his income, and Kaufman's parents provided little of the author's needs, both physical and emotional; one horrific scene was how they cruelly tricked him, and refused to give him the Bar Mitzvah they had promised. One excellent part of the book, is when the author describes very well the unique experiences of children of Survivors. One fine example is when he writes about a favorite teacher, an American Jew from Michigan, who lauds his writing abilities, but at the same time pities him for having a Survivor mother. He writes about how deeply inferior he felt in that moment; that the gulf between him and his teacher was "immense", as she was "truly American", and no matter what he did, he could never be. I have felt this so many times myself, but only in this book have I seen it described so perfectly. He goes on to write about his great isolation, how it lead to alcoholism, but how, in the end, it was writing poetry which lead him to sobriety, and to regaining his soul. ...This book is a very honest portrayal of the most difficult childhood of a 2nd generation person I have ever read.

I can't remember the last time I was moved so emotionally by a memoir. Although first published in 2000, I think the chaos and violence of February 2003 make it an even more important book, a must read for everyone concerned about the "approaching clouds of war" and the current world-wide epidemic of racism, nationalism, religious intolerance, and fear of the "other." Kaufman is a great writer and poet. "Who Are We?", the poem that ends the book, is worthy of serious study in our schools; and his observations of places and people are beautifully written, whether describing the bleakness of a Nebraska landscape or the changes in the mien of an Israeli soldier on a bus: "... in time of war you can tell when a soldier is thinking about the war. ... she woke, looked up into his eyes, saw it there, struggled to sit upright, her hand going to his face, but he pushed it away. His shoulder shrank up against the cold glass window filled with the world that he had defied to touch him and it had touched him in that strange way that war touches people and makes them prefer cold glass to a warm hand." Read it, please.

I grew up in Brooklyn in the same period that Kaufman grew up in the Bronx--the 50's and 60's. His portrayal of his parents represent very common types of the period--a mildly psychotic mother and an uneducated robotic mope of a father. These types were by no means typical of Holocaust survivors in the neighborhood who were generally quiet and dignified. Alan Kaufman had a very bad childhood but I wonder how much was due to madness and stupidity and how much was the result of the Holocaust.

Alan Kaufman is incredible! I read 'Matches' awhile back, loved his style-Jew Boy lacks the action, but makes up for it in pure pathos and humor! Growing up in the Bronx gives you what it takes to be a great Israeli; a soldier-poet is a fun thing to find.

Reading Jew Boy was a lot like being in a car, heading to someplace nice, but he road there was a combination of bumpiness, swirls and detours and at the end you end up not exactly where you thought you would.
Jew is written beautifully, BUT, and no offense to the author who is the main character of the memoir, but I didn't like you at all. He was unlikeable and I had absolutely no pity for him. The end of the book was disjointed and made no sense, but jumped around, trying in some way to close up the lose ends, except I couldn't figure out what they were.
But the man can write. Some of the scenes were great, but they seemed to be slanted toward men, boy, and people who like manly kinds of things, masturbation, screwing just for the hell of it, fighting, football . . . no exactly my cup of tea.
Would I recommend the book . . . . not really, but the parts where he goes out of himself and writes feelings and stuff without trying to be so macho are very good.
It's a mixed bag.