During my extensive interviews with my father about our family, he would occasionally add the phrase “Mayne reyd zoln nisht tsu shver zayn” — “May my words not be too heavy” — a traditional expression ...

The Yiddish writer’s lost masterpiece, Sons and Daughters, brought back to life, in all its humor and beauty, the Jewish shtetl of his youth. Chaim Grade in Vilne, Lithuania, 1945. When the ...

Manuscripts, letters, photos and speeches from a giant of Yiddish literature, long kept out of view by his late widow, are now online. (JTA) — Years ago, when I worked at the Forward, I had a cameo in ...

Finished or not, “Sons and Daughters” is a vivid, Tolstoyan examination of what Kirsch calls “a family struggling with the meaning of Jewishness in the twentieth century.” (JTA) — Sixty years after he ...

When Inna Hecker Grade, the wife of revered Yiddish writer Chaim Grade, died in May, at 85, scholars expressed a palpable sense of hope. For the nearly 30 years since her husband’s death, in 1982, ...

A version of this post appeared in Yiddish here. One hundred years after his birth, the late, great Yiddish novelist and poet Chaim Grade can still draw a crowd. This was evident at an October 4 ...

The papers of a legendary Yiddish author are in the hands of Bronx bureaucrats, and scholars fear the ex-cops and clerks going through them may trash a treasure trove. Chaim Grade‘s widow, Inna, ...

When Yiddish writer Chaim Grade died in 1982 he was highly regarded in Yiddish literary circles, though less known to English readers. Only a few of his novels had been translated, and hardly any of ...

This article originally appeared in the Yiddish Forverts. Harold Rabinowitz likes to say that when he pulled into the driveway at the Beacon Inn in Brookline, Massachusetts, his life became like ...

Years ago, when I worked at the Forward, I had a cameo in a real-life Yiddish drama. A cub reporter named Max Gross sat just outside my office, where he answered the phones. A frequent caller was Inna ...

(JTA) — Years ago, when I worked at the Forward, I had a cameo in a real-life Yiddish drama. A cub reporter named Max Gross sat just outside my office, where he answered the phones. A frequent caller ...