THE GREEN KING (part 27)
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The Photographer
from Salzburg
Those noises,
and then the others, the imaginary ones, spilling from his memory with an
acuteness that made him tremble: Mina’s lively footsteps running or skipping in
the hallways, Katarina playing Schubert on the piano, their mother’s voice,
with that slight Polish accent she never lost, her calm voice, her shooting
voice, which into the water of a pond causes successive concentric circles,
saying during the evening of July 2, 1941:’Johann, we will go to Lvov, the
children and I, thanks to the passports Erich has gotten for us. We will arrive
to the Saturday, and we will stay until Monday. Johann, my father and mother
have never seen their grandchildren….’.
Reb Michael
Klimrod had the eyes of his mother, Hannah Itzkowich Klimrod, born in 1904 in
Lvov, where her father was a doctor. She would almost have hoped to succeed
him, but for the double handicap of being a woman and a Jew. She had instead
studied literature in Prague, where to quota for Jewish students was less
limited, and using the vague pretext of an uncle in business in Vienna, had
then gone there study law. Johann Klimrod had been her professor there for two
years. He was fifteen-years her senior; the eyes that came from steppes had
caught his professorial gaze, and her exceptional intellectual sharpness and
humour had done the rest. They were married in1925, had Katarina in 1926, Reb
in 1928, Mina in 1933….
TO BE CONTINUED
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I LOVE YOU…
I LOVE YOU…
I LOVE YOU…
I LOVE YOU…
I LOVE YOU…
I LOVE YOU…
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