My memoirs. Volume first. Instead of the preface.

Kobrin → Outstanding persons

It is devoted to memory of my darling
grandmothers Bale Russia, silent and loving
to the keeper our big and
noisy family …

Instead of the preface

I tell, about what I saw. But I do not know how I tell. Old, speak, it is important for understanding new and to construct new, it is necessary to know old. If so, then the reader forgives me mine "as" for the sake of mine "that", and I will be happy that I slightly opened a corner of gray-haired, far, but expensive past …
I carried out the youth in the typical small town where Jews lived in poverty, but is "quiet" and – if it is possible to be expressed so – with taste … nowadays it there is nothing as there is no poetry of former places also. America thinned out them, and a heavy share of the Russian Jews life in Russia, having filled in places with black lead of anti-Semitism, absolutely destroyed them. They, these lovely Jewish places which were weaker than the Jewish cities and died the first …
E.K.
I find pertinent to print here, in this part of my "Memories", Sholem Aleichem's letter sent me on receipt by it the first volume of "Memoirs".
I do it not for this purpose, God forbid, to brag to readers praises with which great Sholem Aleichem presented me, - to the fact that he even subscribed with admiration: "Your reader, your pupil, your friend".
I provide this letter only here thereby to characterize just him, Sholem Aleichem: it, with all the heart deriding all and everything, had at the same time the real modesty. In Switzerland, the patient tormented with life he hotly was interested in each new Jewish book appearing in the homeland admired as the child, the pictures of the unknown writer which recovered in his memory "his youth, his family, his heder, his holidays and his dreams" …
E.K.
Sholem Aleichem's letter to Ekhezkel Kotik
Lausanne (Switzerland),
10.1.1913
Dear and, unfortunately, unfamiliar colleague Ekhezkel Kotik!
How I wrote you, I wrote also to Niger at the same time that we have to exchange books: it turned out that the copy inscribed to the poet Abraham Reyzen, and Reyzen now no more and not less was sent to Niger, as in New York, in America! Happen it a few years ago when Sholem Aleichem was still easy on rise, it would be simply, I would get up and went to America, but now it with some difficulty. And what to do if I am eager to read your "Memoirs"? I lay all blame on you, I cut pages of the book of Niger which is breaking up to parts, without testing at the same time any repentance, I begin to read your "Memoirs" and what to you to tell me? I do not remember years when I felt such great pleasure, such pleasure – the real spiritual pleasure! It is not the book, this treasure, it is a garden - the paradise garden full of flowers and singing of birds. She reminded me my youth, my family, my heder, my holidays, my dreams, my types did not! I with the heap of types and pictures from which I knew many and invented many, I – I say about it without any flattery and false modesty – before you I am a boy, the beggar! With your experience and your family I would already flood the world! Guard where you still were? The person owns so many diamonds, diamonds and pearls – and nothing! The Jew goes and "collects coins" (as tell your prayerful there), and he should even remind that he owns such treasure! I began to read and could not come off any more, nearly went crazy! Who such Cat? I heard about one, but he is called, apparently, by A.Kotik [1], absolutely young man, and you – the Jew with a gray-haired beard. That fascinated me in your book - it is the sacred, naked truth, unartful simplicity. And language! No, you not only good, honest and faithful keeper rich, incredible rich, treasures. You – without knowing that – the talent endowed from above with artist's soul. Was Jews in your Kamentsa and in Zastavye much, it is a lot of relatives in your noisy how you call her, a family - what none of them made such memoirs how yours? Why none of them are capable as you, to light people? Listen, it seems to me that your family is my family (and so each reader feels, of course). I know also the grandfather Vashego, Aron-Leyzera, both the grandmother Bale Russia, and the father Vashego, the Hasid Moyshe, and all your uncles with aunts, and even the district police officer with an asessor and with all landowners, good and bad, both melamed, and Hasidim, and misnagid, and doctors, and the rabbi, and that apikoyres [2] - the clerk from Briska3 for whom the ruble can be mamzerom4, both both Isroel, and Aron-Leybel, and Hatskel, and the Midge, and the managing director Berl-Bendet, and all other! All of them live, I know all, with all I rejoice and with all I mourn. It is necessary to be valid still - me not only it was necessary to laugh (you have places where I split the sides from laughter), but at me as well tears flew, I swear honor, I cried together with all of you when your grandfather blessed all of you on the eve of the Doomsday and when your righteous woman grandmother lay on a floor, and the grandfather hundred times fainted. That I so rejoiced soon to disposal of Israel as I broke into tears, and not because the person died – My God how many people die every day, each hour and every moment! But because yours the grandmother and the grandfather – they my, my, my! And therefore that they were living and dear, gold people and therefore that you warmed all of them the soul, enclosed in them all the hot truth. I am rather proud that we have such people, such Jews as yours that thanks to you those "coins" will not be gone that roll (I consider that still roll) in our people. I am really ennobled by thought that ours still young Jewish national literature was enriched with such book as your "Memoirs". Whether you will write them further? Whether there will be they same thick and successful how the first book? Successful – I am sure, thick – I do not know, I am afraid that will be more poor, more liquid. There are no those Jews any more! Or rather, they are, but are not so noticeable, them became insignificant a little, especially in big cities.
11.1.13

Today I happened upon the writer Izbitsky (Mikhalevich) 5 on the mountain, 1500 meters are higher than Lausanne (the place is called Leysin). I told it what admiration was caused in me by a certain book of a certain simple Jewish owner by the name of E.Kotik. And what he on it told me it that I was ready to begin to cry? It turned out that this Izbitsky Vas well knows and that you are the father A.Kotika and the owner of cafe on Nalevkakh and that all know for a long time that Vas have some "Memoirs". Ask: where they were, cattle? What were they silent if they knew? And where there were I, cattle? I was on Nalevkakh too and, it appears, drank coffee with Spektorom6. Why I did not know where I was and at whom drank coffee? Why our book market is flooded with such junk while "treasures", similar to yours, roll somewhere in boxes of a table or under a mattress? In me the anger on our critics as soon as I remember how print each smorkach who soils any paskudstvo in imitation goyam begins to boil. Bile when you read this viscous and sickening phrase-mongering of Artsibashev and so forth a paskudstvo that forces the kind humorist what I am considered spreads, to be angry and deprives of appetite to write. I become the bandit – let for a while – the such "Jewish bandit". As usual, I was fond. Answer, I ask Vas if there is time, on my question: whether you continue further "Reminiscence" and what era, what circles you mention and whether so goes well how still and whether you mention a family? There are people, types about which you have to tell and tell further. Live, good luck both are vigorous, and write.

Your grateful reader, friend and pupil …
Sholem Aleichem

[1] A cat, Abraham Girsh (1868-1934), the eldest son E.Kotika, the participant of the socialist movement and the publisher of books into Yiddish in the different cities of Russia, Poland and America where emigrated in 1925. The same year published in New York the book into Yiddish "Life of the Jewish intellectual", in 1926 returned to the USSR where lived in Moscow and in Kharkiv.
[2] I.e. freethinker. The concept accepted in the Jewish environment connected with a name of the Ancient Greek philosopher Epicurus preaching release from fear of gods and before death. During the different periods concept it was filled with different contents.
3 The name of Brest accepted at Jews, nowadays – the regional center as a part of Belarus.
4 Illegitimate - i.e. what it is necessary to be ashamed of. The expression mentioned in the text "ruble cannot" be similar a mamzer to a saying "money does not smell" that is unacceptable for the freethinker.
5 Izbitsky, Josef (1928-1876), figure Bunda and idishistsky writer.
6 Spector, Mordechai, 1925-1858 – the writer and the journalist into Yiddish.



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