From Library Journal
Singer immigrated from Poland in 1935, leaving behind a wife and a five-year-old son. Mother and son, in an attempt to escape war-torn Europe, moved to the Soviet Union, were later exiled to Turkey, and eventually settled in Israel. Zamir grew up on a kibbutz, far removed from the Jewish New York experiences of his father. Twenty years later, a reunion of sorts occurred in New York. From that difficult time grew a strong bond that enriched both their lives in unexpected ways. Zamir's memoir is a testimony to the sweeping power of forgiveness and repentance. Zamir translated all of his father's works into Hebrew, accompanied him to Sweden for the Nobel Prize ceremonies, and grew to appreciate and honor his father's creative genius. Zamir's skill as a journalist shines; his memoir is beautifully written, terse, yet rich in detail. The journey, of course, leads to a fuller understanding of Singer as a writer, but we will remember the trip. Highly recommended.?Denise Sticha, Seton Hill Coll. Lib., Greensburg, Pa.
Copyright 1995 Reed Business Information, Inc.
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In 1935, when Zamir was five years old, his father, Isaac Bashevis Singer, left Warsaw for New York, escaping a troubled marriage and cutting himself off from his only child. Zamir and Singer didn't meet again until the mid-1950s, when Zamir, a radical Zionist, traveled to the U.S. Zamir's account of their conflictful reunion and patient forging of a loving relationship is poignant on many levels. His well-told story embraces the tragedy of the Holocaust, the traumatic disillusionment with the Soviet Union once Stalin's horrors were revealed, and the courageous struggles of Israel, but what emerges most clearly and memorably is his portrait of Singer. Zamir came to love and revere his mystical, egocentric, and immensely talented father and even grew to understand why his father was such a "Jewish Casanova." He also translated his father's books into Hebrew. As he recounts his compelling conversations with his father, Zamir ponders Singer's belief in demons and ghosts and celebrates his endless curiosity, disciplined writing process, love of the Yiddish language, and great charm. Zamir's warm and vivid portrait proves that writing is a Singer trait.
Donna Seaman
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