 |
Jud ith Zukerman Amsterdam Days |
|
From
Free Verse Issue #78, 2005 In her first published chapbook of poetry, Judith Zukerman captures moments with masterful precision and hands them to us like gifts. "A willow hangs over the canal / over children's fishing poles and shoes in a row / sheltering duck, herons and swans . . . " and ". . . Black braids flap on an eight year old / slinking through open stalls in the Dappermarkt. . . " These vivid moments, snapshots of the heart, open doors to Amsterdam and allow us to peer through. Judith Zukerman takes us to the Hollandsche Schowburg theater, the Hortus Botanical gardens founded in the 17th century, the Rembrandt Hotel of which she writes: "Seven peonies, pink and rose / in a Dutch pewter vase / windows, three meters high . . . // Old trees, three stories . high, quiver in the wind. . . " But Amsterdam Days is not just a pretty travelogue. Judith Zukerman has come to confront the tragedy of her heritage as a Jew. Of a stately chestnut tree in the Prinsengracht apartment overlooking a garden, she writes, "An Amsterdam treasure / tourists don't see, / next door to the Secret Annex, / Anne Frank's view of nature in a hidden world." She helps us recognize that Anne Frank's experience was not hers alone. "remember hidden Dutch Jewish children / who never made noise nor played during the war, passing fear like genes to their children and grandchildren / keeping suitcases by the door / years after the war." So many Dutch Jews died during the second world war that Judith quotes one Sephardic Jewish woman's words, "To me, Amsterdam is a Jewish cemetery." In a poem she dedicates to all the Jews in the Netherlands who are trying to create a vibrant Jewish life in that country, she shares these moving words. "Deep, deep, deep / in one remaining wall, / my people weep." The poet is not without hope. In a poem where two toddlers waddle, one blond and the other with seal-brown skin, she ends, "They babble to each other / squeals of wonder / if only // no one teaches them // they can't be friends." The cover of her book depicts a row of red tulips, all wearing tags made by Dutch school children who had participated in a Holocaust program developed by the Jewish Historical Museum. One of the notes says "Nooit meer racisme! Never again racism. Another says, "Nooit meer Auschwitz!" Never again Auschwitz! Judith Zukerman has produced a profound and moving book. My only criticism is that the notes in the back that explain many terms unfamiliar to those of us who do not speak the Dutch language would be better presented in a foreword before we confront them. However the present arrangement supports the argument that it causes us to go back and reread the poem containing the phrase with new understanding. If the work of a poet is to make us see, to make us feel, and to preserve memory, which I believe it is, the author scores magnificently. |