{"id":37325,"date":"2026-05-13T17:47:04","date_gmt":"2026-05-13T21:47:04","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/ukrainianjewishencounter.org\/?p=37325"},"modified":"2026-05-13T17:47:04","modified_gmt":"2026-05-13T21:47:04","slug":"the-ukrainian-jewish-encounter-cultural-dimensions-part-4-4","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ukrainianjewishencounter.org\/en\/the-ukrainian-jewish-encounter-cultural-dimensions-part-4-4\/","title":{"rendered":"\"The Ukrainian-Jewish Encounter: Cultural Dimensions\": Part 4.4"},"content":{"rendered":"
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The Ukrainian Jewish Encounter was founded in 2008 with the goal of building stronger relations between Ukrainians and Jews, two peoples who, for centuries, lived side by side on the territory of what is modern-day Ukraine. Since then, in keeping with its motto, \"Our stories are incomplete without each other,\" UJE has sponsored conferences, round-table discussions and research, as well as translations and publication of works the organization anticipates will promote a deeper understanding between the two peoples and an appreciation of their respective cultures.<\/p>\n

We offer for the first time the book\u00a0The Ukrainian-Jewish Encounter: Cultural Dimensions\u00a0<\/em>in an eBook format.<\/p>\n

The book is a collection of essays that examine the interaction between the Ukrainian and Jewish cultures from the seventeenth century onwards. Written by leading experts from Ukraine, Israel, and other countries, the book presents a broad perspective on parallels and cross-cultural influences in various domains \u2014 including the visual arts, folklore, music, literature, and language. Several essays also focus on mutual representation \u2014 for example, perceptions of the \"Other\" as expressed in literary works or art history.<\/p>\n

The richly illustrated volume contains a wealth of new information on these little-explored topics. The book appears as volume 25 in the series\u00a0Jews and Slavs,<\/em>\u00a0published by the Hebrew University of Jerusalem since 1993. In several previous volumes, considerable attention is given to the defining role of the Old Testament in Ukrainian literature and art and to the depiction of Jewish life in Ukraine in the works of Nikolai Gogol, Taras Shevchenko, Ivan Franko, Lesia Ukrainka, Vladimir Korolenko, and other writers.<\/p>\n

This collection of essays was co-edited by Wolf Moskovich, Professor Emeritus, Hebrew University of Jerusalem, and Alti Rodal, Co-Director of the Ukrainian Jewish Encounter, who also wrote the introduction to the volume. It was published in 2016 by Hebrew University of Jerusalem.<\/p>\n

4.4<\/span><\/h1>\n

Click\u00a0here for a pdf\u00a0<\/a>of the entire book.<\/p>\n

Ukrainian-Jewish relations as depicted in narrative accounts of former Carpatho-Rusyn Jews in Israel<\/h2>\n

Ilana Rosen (Ben Gurion University, Beer Sheva)<\/span>
\n<\/em><\/strong>The Jews of Carpatho-Rus', presently the western part of Ukraine, were largely decimated in the Holocaust as part of Hungarian Jewry. Until the Holocaust, and more specifically in the interwar period, they were a community of about 113,000, living in an area of around 100,000 square kilometers, which was divided into the four historic Austro-Hungarian counties of Marmaros, Ung, Ugocsa, and Bereg, by then under Czechoslovak rule. They lived in dozens of communities, varying from big cities like Munk\u00e1cs (Muka\u010devo, Mukachevo), Ungv\u00e1r (U\u017ehorod, Uzhhorod), and Beregsz\u00e1sz (Berehovo), to small towns and villages. Most of them were Orthodox, mostly Hasidic; politically, a few thousand were Zionist; far fewer were Communist. A relatively high percentage of them were farmers and workers, much like their non-Jewish neighbours and conspicuously unlike the more typical image of shtetl <\/em>Jews (Jelinek, The Carpathian Diaspora<\/em>; Magocsi, Jews in Transcarpathia<\/em>; Rothkirchen, \"Deep-Rooted Yet Alien\").<\/p>\n

After the Holocaust, the few thousand Carpatho-Rusyn Jewish survivors re-built their lives mostly in Israel and the West, though some returned to, or remained, in the region. During the many decades afterwards, the survivors and others who left early on were busy creating new lives and generations. But then, for a variety of reasons beyond the scope of this essay (Rosen, \"Personal Historical Narrative,\" 107\u2013108), Israeli and American organisations of former Carpatho-Rusyn Jews joined forces throughout the 1990s to enable the study of their history and culture in Israeli universities. These efforts yielded two research projects. One was carried out at the Diaspora Research Institute (presently The Goldstein-Goren Center) at Tel Aviv University, and included Yeshayahu Jelinek's historical study and my own folkloristic study of modern Carpatho-Rusyn Jewish communities (Jelinek, The Carpathian Diaspora<\/em>; Rosen, There Once Was\u2026<\/em>). The second, my project was built on the awareness created by the first and carried out at the Institute of Contemporary Jewry at the Hebrew University. In this project I offered a close reading of the accounts of Holocaust survivors from Carpatho-Rus' (Rosen, In Auschwitz We Blew the Shofar<\/em>).<\/p>\n

My work likewise yielded a collection of around five hundred narratives belonging to various genres, mainly legends and personal narratives, dealing with many themes related to the narrators' interwar life in the region. This entire collection is presently stored and available at both the Tel Aviv University Diaspora Research Center and IFA, the Dov Noy Israeli Folktale Archives at Haifa University. Select narratives from this collection were published in my book, There once was\u2026<\/em>, under the following headings: Jewish life in Carpatho-Rus', livelihood and Torah learning, Hasidism versus Zionism, generations or the life cycle, man and woman, wonder tales, Jews and gentiles, and the Holocaust.<\/p>\n

In coming to trace the nature of narration, to paraphrase Homi Bhabha's notion (Bhabha, ed., Nation and Narration<\/em>), of the relations between Jews and Ruthenians, or for that matter with all other groups in the region, the following picture emerges. To judge by their narratives, the Jews of Carpatho-Rus' were more preoccupied with their own inner life, communities, hardships, and conflicts than with external realities. Although, as Annamaria Orla-Bukowska points out regarding the nearby Polish-Jewish shtetl<\/em>, both or all sides were well aware of the existence and difference of others around them, with whom they maintained routine mutual neighbourly and business relations, precisely because all sides knew they belonged to different communities (Orla-Bukowska, \"Maintaining Borders\"). If and when referring to others, the Jews, or presently mostly Israelis, made clear distinctions between three nationalities: Hungarians, Czechs (meaning either Czechs or Slovaks, because they were referring to the Czechoslovak interwar era), and Ruthenians or Ukrainians, without going into specific details in most cases. Thus, until I read materials by and about the Gentile people of this region, never did I come across the mention of specific group names such as Lemko, Lazi, or the Rusyns of Slovakia (Hann, \"Peripheral Populations\"). Similarly, in these materials, references to the Jews of the (Rusinko, Straddling Borders<\/em>, 199).<\/p>\n

Considering the region's three main groups, Hungarians (as well as Hungarian identity and culture in a wide sense) capture much attention in the memory and narrative of Jews from Carpatho-Rus', so much so that the Habsburg emperor's name was Yiddishized affectionately to Froym-Yosl. People stressed the service and often the handicaps of their fathers or uncles in the Hungarian army in the First World War, and \u2014 to tell a long and painful history in one paraphrased sentence \u2014 \"the new Hungarians (meaning the Fascist state to whom the area was receded in the Second World War) were much different from the old Hungarians\" (meaning the Austro-Hungarian Empire). These and similar evaluations relate to both official and personal encounters and, for good or bad, they populate most of the narrative and discourse of the region's former Jews. Or, to use psychoanalytic parlance, the Hungarian issue is an area of passion, or \"frisson\" as Saul Friedl\u00e4nder has it in Reflections on Nazism <\/em>(18\u201319) for all former Austro-Hungarian Jews (Szalai, \"Will the Past Protect Hungarian Jewry\"), Carpatho-Rusyn Jews included. This may reflect a quantitative bias related to the large number of Jews who lived in Hungarian-culture environments, or of those Jews in both of my research projects, or both.<\/p>\n

The Czechs were experienced mainly as government officials, teachers, managers, and other post holders, and not so much as everyday life neighbours. They were often depicted as progressive, humane, and formal, but somewhat naive compared to the typical local villager of whichever nationality. This is illustrated by an amusing narrative I analyze in an essay about the notions of exile and homeland in the oral lore of the region's Jews (Rosen, \"Exile, Homeland, and Milieu\").<\/p>\n

As for Ruthenians, first of all only a few people called them Ukrainians, except when referring to the Ukrainian nationalist rule of the region, which lasted for a few months in 1938 (Jelinek, The Carpathian Diaspora<\/em>, 218\u2013220 in the Hebrew edition), and which, as Jelinek points out, was as hostile to Jews as to the local Hungarians. Otherwise, they are referred to as locals, villagers, Ruthenians, Orthodox, or even Christian haredim <\/em>(Hebrew), meaning ultra-Orthodox people just like their Jewish counterparts. The obvious point that all this is completely one-sided has to be stressed or de-familiarized, and with it the realization that these are depictions of a life that ended disastrously some fifty years before the narration. To add to the ambiguity, in quite a few cases the exact national or ethnic identity of the Gentile Other is not even specified, which supports the view of the region's Jews as living inwardly. Perceptions of Ruthenians can therefore only be hypothetically inferred on the basis of details such as the specific place of the narrated event, the narrator's overall life history, and the sustained focuses in his or her narrative\/narration. Looking, therefore, first at some narratives about unspecified others that could be <\/em>Ruthenian, we might see that they deal with religious differences. These narratives and narrators dwell on their senses of curiosity, fear, and a curious m\u00e9lange of attraction and repulsion towards the Other's habit, in a broad sense (see: Bourdieu, Outline of a Theory of Practice<\/em>; de Certeau, The Practice of Everyday Life<\/em>).<\/p>\n

For example, Itzhak Arnon of Kaszony\/Kosyno, interviewed in Haifa in 1995, had the following recollection of the interwar period: \"There was one night in which you could fear violence by the gentiles. On Christmas night they had a custom called Bet-Lehem. Now what was this Bet-Lehem? They built a miniature house representing the home of Jesus the baby, with straw and all in it. And they would go from house to house to act it out. This was just like the purim shpil<\/em>, in which Jews acted out the story of the megillah <\/em>[The Book of Esther<\/em>]. In return, they received a few coins. Now the gentile shkutzim <\/em>[Yiddish derogatory term for non-Jewish hoodlums] saw it as their duty to knock on the windows of Jews and possibly break a few. We dared not go out on this night\" (Rosen, There Once Was\u2026<\/em>, \"Appendix,\" 240; IFA serial number 23216; the English translation of all narratives in this essay is by I. Rosen). In this narrative, the narrator mitigates the sense of antagonism and menace by equating the two religious plays, and by the adverb \"possibly,\" which likewise discloses his ironic stance. But the bottom line is that all this does not diminish the long-lasting sense of fear felt by local Jews at Christmas time.<\/p>\n

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Fig. 1<\/strong>. Moshe Noyman<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Just as pertinent to religious differences and perspectives, Moshe Noyman of Ungv\u00e1r (U\u017ehorod, Uzhhorod), interviewed in Givatayim, Israel in 1995, recalls (fig. 1<\/em><\/strong>): \"In our street there were non-kosher butcheries. I didn't want to inhale their odour, so I crossed the street, to avoid smelling pork. But further down the street there was a cross, on a house, so I had to spit three times. But I did it when the gentiles didn't look.\" (IFA 23642). Here the senses of smell, taste, sight, and contact are all evoked to transmit the complexity of an otherwise everyday life experience of walking through the neighbourhood and encountering the habit(us) of the Other (de Certeau, The Practice of Everyday Life<\/em>; Orla-Bukowska, \"Maintaining Borders\"). The senses become both detectors and defenders, or aggressors, of both sides.<\/p>\n

Viewing Jewish Carpatho-Rusyn life through (the senses of) this narrative makes it a daily obstacle race, somewhat as in the narrative about the Jewish man who crosses real political borders on his way to work and back daily (Rosen, \"Exile, Homeland\").<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

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Fig. 2.<\/strong> Sarah Udi<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

To balance the sense of mutual self-segregation, Christian aggression, and Jewish hatred and fear, Sarah Udi, of Munk\u00e1cs (Muka\u010devo, Mukachevo), I interviewed in Kfar Sava, Israel in 1995 (fig. 2<\/em><\/strong>), recalls a school incident that teaches a lesson in tolerance: \"On Passover I brought to school matzah <\/em>[Passover bread made of unleavened dough] with a boiled egg. One gentile boy, probably repeating what he had heard at home, said it was made with gentile blood. Our teacher, a nun, said nothing to the boy. Instead she sat down next to me and asked if she could have some. I said, of course. She was very smart, did not make a fuss and yet showed the class that the accusation was wrong. Only later did I understand the meaning of it all, and I shall never forget it\" (IFA 23685). In this narrative, the teacher wisely refrains from engaging in the age-old accusations or defences of Jews and their Passover ritual. Instead of words she turns to deeds, thus exemplifying her own \u2014 and by extension, the Christian religion's \u2014 disbelief in and disregard for this discourse. Agan aside, because this is after all a classroom exchange, she also teaches and reinforces the values of generosity, politeness, and curiosity and caring about the Other's life. This is of significance as it is evident from the previous two narratives in which alienation, aggression, and fear often derive from ignorance and lack of respectful communication between the two sides.<\/p>\n

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Fig. 3.<\/strong> Zeev Kest<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

At times, these charged and age-old encounters were treated with humour. For example, Zeev Kest of Vilkhovytsia, interviewed in Givatayim in 1995 (fig. 3<\/em><\/strong>), said: \"My father used to say that Jews suffer both in this world and the next. In this world the Jew is beaten for being a Jew, and in the next for having lived like a goy <\/em>[a Gentile, here meaning not keeping mitzvot<\/em>, the Jewish religious dictates]\" (File Kest, no. 1, the Tel Aviv University Archives). Arye Amikam of Ungv\u00e1r (U\u017ehorod, Uzhhorod), interviewed in Haifa in 1995 (fig. 4<\/em><\/strong>), had this anecdote: \"The gentile maid goes home and they ask her: tell us, what are these Jews like? So she answers, well, they are very strange. They have a holiday in which they eat by the table and smoke in the bathroom, that is shabbat<\/em>. They have a holiday in which they eat and smoke by the table, that is simhat Torah<\/em>, and they have a holiday in which they eat and smoke in the bathroom, that is yom kippur<\/em>, the Day of Atonement\" (IFA 23879). Related to the previous humorous anecdote, and seen as if through the eyes of the Gentile home servant, this joke is subversive in that it says that non-observant \u2014 or fake observant \u2014 Jews make of their breach a reverse ethos or \"religion.\" Jews come out as pretending and hypocritical in this anecdote and Gentiles as naively viewing Jews as \"pious\" in any case, because whatever they do, they still \"observe the rule\" of committing the forbidden clandestinely.<\/p>\n

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Fig. 4.<\/strong> Arye Amikam<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Focusing on Ruthenians, two very telling narratives told by two central figures in the Israeli community of former Carpathian Jews add specifically to the portrayal of the relations between Jews and their Rusyn or Ruthenian neighbours. The first was already analyzed with differing focuses in two of my essays (Rosen, \"Exile, Homeland, and Milieu,\" 6; Rosen, \"A Literary-Cultural Reading\", 60\u201361), and shall therefore be dealt with here only briefly. It was told in 1995 by Yosef Ami, of Munk\u00e1cs (Muka\u010devo, Mukachevo) and Haifa, one of the leaders of the World Union of Former Carpatho-Rusyn Jews and Students of the Hebrew Gymnasia (fig. 5<\/em><\/strong>, with Ilana Rosen):<\/p>\n

In our farm we already had third-generation Ruthenians families living with us. They all spoke Yiddish. I learned the first Hebrew [prayer] words in my life from my Ruthenians nanny, a shikse <\/em>[partly affectionate partly derogatory Yiddish appellation for a gentile female, related to shekets <\/em>or (pl.) shkutzim<\/em>]. She took care of me. They worked as nannies, as cooks. We had this saying: Our shikse <\/em>is as knowledgeable as your rabbi [in Jewish practical dictates]. That was because she was so deeply rooted in our life, that she became knowledgeable, and she had a say. Young Jewish brides who came to be tested for their competence in kosher cooking were sent to the shikse<\/em>. She would say, 'Let's see how you salt the meat' [in the process of draining it of any remaining blood, according to the dictates of kosher-ness, or kashrut<\/em>]. She took her to the cellar for the salting. When they came up, the shikse <\/em>would often say, Ah, the goya <\/em>[feminine form in Hebrew of gentile, goy<\/em>, here meaning ignorant of Jewish religious law], she doesn't know a thing. This nanny who brought me up had a fixed routine of putting me to bed. She would say, in Yiddish, Now wash your hands, kiss the mezuzah <\/em>[the parchment scroll affixed to the doorpost of rooms in the Jewish home], recite your bedtime prayer, kiss your Mom and Dad, piss, and go to bed [Yiddish: vashen, mezuza kushn, krias-shma leynen, mame tate kushn, pishn, geyn shlofn<\/em>]. They actually lived with us, were paid with products of the farm, and were an integral part of our life. Most of them spoke Yiddish. If she was angry with me, she would scold me by saying: You are worse than a sheigetz <\/em>[male counterpart of shikse<\/em>, with the additional connotation of unrestrained, which is inappropriate to an educated Jewish youth]. They knew all our curses, prayers, customs, rules of kashrut<\/em>, everything. The mother of the shikse <\/em>who nursed me, she nursed my mother. We even had a third generation. My grandfather, all my family, had gentile friends. I played with them near the farm, I didn't even have any Jewish friends. (IFA 23208; Rosen, \"Exile, Homeland, and Milieu,\" 6; Rosen, \"A Literary-Cultural Reading\", 60\u201361).<\/p>\n

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Fig. 4.<\/strong> Yosef Ami and Ilana Rosen<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

The other narrative was told in 1995 by Baruch Tsachor from Trebushany\/Dilove, living in a Israel village near Kfar Sava (fig. 6<\/em><\/strong>), who was a sculptor and gifted storyteller:<\/p>\n

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Fig. 6.<\/strong> Baruch Tsachor<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

On Passover you had to get rid of all your hametz <\/em>[leavened bread stuff]. Everyone would sell it to a gentile neighbour. You make a bill-of-sale, both sides sign it, and after the holiday you tear it apart, cancel the deal, and get your stuff back. You didn't even remove it from your house, only covered and kept it in a corner. Now my father, he took it all humorously, so before Passover he would find a neighbour and offer him to 'take part in the jokes of the Jews', and they did it year after year. Once my father offered this deal to a Christian Pravoslav neighbour woman. They had special cloths and they were very observant in the Christian religion, like our haredim<\/em>. And they did it, made the deal. After the holiday, she came to cancel the deal, as they agreed. But she was crying, handkerchief in hand and moaning, oy, oy, what happened to me. My father asks: What happened? She says, crying, our cow just had a new calf, and this calf got sick and died. So? So she explains that now she needs her money back, the money with which she bought the leavened stuff, because now she has trouble because the calf died. Only now did my father understand that this woman took the Jewish religious dictate more seriously than he did. She truly believed that she needed a reason or excuse to cancel the deal, when in fact it could be done just like that. Wow, my father really liked that. And my older brother said, next year I shall not miss it. Sure enough, the next year my father again made a deal with this woman. We were curious about her story that year. After the holiday, she come in crying, moaning, holding her white handkerchief. She says her husband rode a carriage full of straw. The carriage turned over and her husband fell and broke his leg. So now, again, she had to cancel the deal, she needs her money back. After that, my father said, I wonder what comes first, the Messiah or the end of this woman's stories (IFA 23771; Rosen, There Once Was\u2026<\/em>, \"Appendix\", 211).<\/p>\n

The first excerpt, which is more of a para-ethnographic description than a narrative, describes a seemingly harmonious though entirely one-sided portrait of the shared life of well-to-do Jews and their Ruthenian employees from the time of the Austro-Hungarian Empire until the Holocaust. The child-narrator's devoted governess is a Gentile woman, or shikse<\/em>, in Jewish jargon. The Gentile nanny speaks Yiddish and knows Jewish customs and prayers by rote. She teaches and initiates the child in her care from infancy until about the age of three, when he begins his formal Jewish education; and her worst words of scolding are that he is \"worse than a Gentile\" [Yiddish: erger vi a sheigetz<\/em>]. In the wider Jewish family circle, she may function as tester of prospective brides. As to her own wider circle, this woman and her family have lived, for generations, off the farm run by their Jewish employers and they are seen as \"an integral part of [the Jewish family's] life.\"<\/p>\n

This nanny figure greatly resembles her counterpart in many novellas of the Israeli writer Aharon Appelfeld, who spent his early childhood just before the Holocaust in a neighbouring urban community (Rosen, \"A Literary-Cultural reading\"). In Appelfeld's novellas, the nanny figure seems to have internalized the values of her Jewish employers, and in the novellas she even loses her original Christian identity in the process, which causes catastrophe (Appelfeld, Katerina<\/em>; Appelfeld, The Conversion<\/em>). In folk narrative and discourse, by contrast, she manages to preserve both parts of her identity. At any rate, the Jewish folk narrator is more cognizant of the nanny's familiarity with Jewish customs than of the nanny's own religious orientation, family ties, or life in general.<\/p>\n

In the second excerpt, which is a fully fledged narrative illustrating its narrator's style and central themes, we likewise have the viewpoint of a child, who merely observed and now reports what he saw and heard decades earlier. This narrative focuses on the Passover holiday, which occupies much space, attention, and anxiety in Jewish folk narrative. The IFA has over four hundred Passover stories, much more than any other holiday. This stress \u2014 in both meanings, of focus and of pressure \u2014 derives from both the strict ritual demands of Passover, which entail seclusion for the sake of purity, or kashrut <\/em>(not to mention the financial burden), as well as fear of the Gentile environment's response to the Jewish seclusion. This response, as seen in Sarah Udi's short school incident, could easily turn into a blood libel (Dundes, ed., The Blood Libel Legend<\/em>). Therefore, it may well be that the narrator's father treats all this humorously by way of making light the heaviness of all that otherwise goes with Passover, though it may be that he simply was not that observant. At any rate, as opposed to Baruch's father, his Christian Orthodox neighbour woman davka <\/em>takes the Jewish holiday and the business transaction it dictates very seriously. Just like the shikse <\/em>in Yosef Ami's description and Appelfeld's novellas, she too acts as more Jewish \u2014 meaning more earnestly and keenly observant \u2014 than her Jewish neighbour. Her seriousness or devotion is expressed by her crying and moaning, whereas the light attitude of the narrator's father comes through by his calling it all \"the jokes of the Jews\" and by his joking remark on the Messiah.<\/p>\n

Notwithstanding all this, it is quite very clear who really has a hold over the Jewish ethos and habitus in both excerpts, as in the shorter ones, though less emphatically in the humorous ones. This comes through by the thick use of ingroup terminology, at times technically and informatively, at times to mark boundaries, at times to mock or look down upon the Christian Other. Hence? One encounters the appellations goy<\/em>, goya<\/em>, shikse<\/em>, sheigetz<\/em>, and shkutzim<\/em>; references to holidays and food-ways such as hametz<\/em>, kashrut<\/em>, and meat salting; and the minute detailing of routine yet strict Jewish practices such as mezuza kushn <\/em>and kriat-shma leynen<\/em>. All these mark implicitly borders that the narratives partly leave open explicitly. Lastly, it may be that recalling these matters decades later in an all Israeli setting may have strengthened the sense of deliberate segregation on the part of this stance is fairly common Jewish narrators.<\/p>\n

In my corpus of about five hundred narratives told by former Carpatho-Rusyn Jews and presently old-timer Israelis, narratives about Rusyns or Ruthenians are scarce but telling. In these narratives, the non-Jews are portrayed, much like in Appelfeld's work, as rural, traditional, religious or faithful in ways that make their Jewish neighbours see them as almost \u2014 if not more \u2014 Jewish, or as earnest partners in their own efforts to fulfil mitzvot<\/em>, the Jewish dictates. That the basic Christian identity of these people is at least partly erased in the process is probably an outcome of the one-sidedness of these accounts and the remoteness of this entire world from its present possible audiences. To balance this perspective, once a year, around the Holocaust Memorial day in April, various Israeli television channels broadcast documentary programs, feature films, and other images and representations of the past places of destroyed Jewish communities, and thus enable a glimpse at their inhabitants. An example of this is fig. 7<\/em><\/strong>, of Tova Noyman of Natanya Israel visiting her past hometown of Rus'ka Mokra and meeting an old schoolmate. There \u2014 among or through these images \u2014 one might see Yosef's shikse <\/em>or Baruch's Orthodox \"haredit<\/em>\" neighbour woman and realize that, as in the title of Livia Rothkirchen's well-known essay about Carpatho-Rusyn Jews. And as in Yosef Ami's wording, these people also were \"deep(ly)-rooted yet alien\" to Jews and Judaism, and so they shall remain in the memory and narrative of their former Jewish neighbours.<\/p>\n

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Fig. 7<\/strong>. Tova Noyman visiting Rus'ka Mokra and meeting a past school mate.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

References<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

Appelfeld, Aharon. Katerina. <\/em>Translated by Geffrey M. Green. New York: Random House, 1992.<\/p>\n

Appelfeld, Aharon. The Conversion. <\/em>Translated by Geffrey M. Green. New York: Schocken Books, 1998.<\/p>\n

Bhabha, Homi K., ed. Nation and Narration<\/em>. London: Routledge, 1995.<\/p>\n

Bourdieu, Pierre\/ Outline of a Theory of Practice<\/em>. Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press, 1977.<\/p>\n

de Certeau, Michel. The Practice of Everyday Life. <\/em>Translated by Steven Rendall. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1984.<\/p>\n

Dundes, Alan, ed. The Blood Libel Legend: A Casebook in anti-Semitic Folklore<\/em>. Madison, Wisconsin: University of Wisconsin Press, 1991.<\/p>\n

Friedl\u00e4nder, Saul. Reflections of Nazism: An Essay on Kitsch and Death. <\/em>Translated by Thomas Weyr. New York: Harper and Row, 1984.<\/p>\n

Hann, Chris, \"Peripheral Populations and the Dilemmas of Multiculturalism: the Lemko and the Lazi Revisited.\" In Carpatho-Rusyns and their Neighbours: Essays in Honor of Paul Robert Magocsi<\/em>, Eds. Bogdan Horbal, Patricia Krafcik, and Elaine Rusinko, 185\u2013202. Fairfax, Virginia: Eastern Christian Publications, 2006.<\/p>\n

Jelinek, Yeshayahu A. The Carpathian Diaspora: the Jews of Subcarpathian Rus' and Mukachevo, 1848\u20131948<\/em>. Boulder, Colorado: East European Monographs, 2007. Distributed by Columbia University Press, New York.<\/p>\n

Magocsi, Paul Robert. Jews in Transcarpathia: A Brief Historical Outline<\/em>. Uzhhorod: V. Padyak Publishers, 2005.<\/p>\n

Orla-Bukowska, Annamaria. \"Maintaining Borders, Crossing Borders: Social Relationships in the Shtetl\". Polin <\/em>17 (2004): 171\u2013195.<\/p>\n

Rosen, Ilana. There Once Was\u2026: the Oral Tradition of the Jews of Carpatho-Rus'<\/em>. Tel Aviv: The Diaspora Research Institute at Tel Aviv University, 1999. [Hebrew]\n

Rosen, Ilana. In Auschwitz We Blew the Shofar: Carpatho-Rusyn Jews Remember the Holocaust<\/em>. Jerusalem: Yad Vashem and the Hebrew University, 2004. [Hebrew] Rosen, Ilana. \"A Literary-Cultural reading of the Figure of the Governess in the Work of Aharon Appelfeld\". Mikan, Journal of Hebrew Literary Studies, Special Issue: The<\/em> world of Aharon Appelfeld: A Selection of Essays on his Works<\/em>, Eds. Risa Domb, Ilana Rosen, and Itzhak Ben-Mordechai. Cambridge England, Jerusalem, and Beer Sheva: University of Cambridge, Keter Publishing House, Heksherim \u2014 Center for Jewish and Israeli Literature and Culture at the Ben Gurion University, 2004: 57\u201365. [Hebrew]\n

Rosen, Ilana. \"Exile, Homeland, and Milieu in the Oral Lore of Carpatho-Russian Jews\". CLCWeb: Comparative Literature and Culture<\/em>, 1\u201310 (2009). Retrieved Aug. 12, 2010 at: http:\/\/docs.lib.purdue.edu\/clcweb\/vol11\/iss1\/9.<\/a><\/p>\n

Rosen, Ilana. \"Personal Historical Narrative Shaping the Past and Present\". European Journal of Jewish Studies <\/em>(2009): 103\u2013133.<\/p>\n

Rothkirchen, Livia. \"Deep-Rooted Yet Alien: Some Aspects of the History of the Jews in Subcarpathian Ruthenia\". Yad Vashem Studies <\/em>12 (1977): 147\u2013191.<\/p>\n

Rusinko, Elaine. Straddling Borders: Literature and Identity in Subcarpathian Rus'<\/em>. Toronto, Buffalo, London: University of Toronto Press, 2003.<\/p>\n

Szalai, Anna. \"Will the Past Protect Hungarian Jewry? Responses of Jewish Intellectuals to Anti-Jewish Legislation\". Yad Vashem Studies <\/em>32 (2004): 171\u2013208.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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