Lost in Translation

Most people, when they hear this title, think of Bill Murray in Japan. They tell me how the movie is much better than they had expected.

Sure, it’s the title of a movie. But the phrase has been used before. To me, it recalls Eva Hoffman’s book (title: Lost in Translation) about growing up in post-war Poland and eventually moving to the States. I can’t say that I loved it when I read it. It isn’t an easy narrative: her prose is ponderous, difficult at times. But I have to say that it was one of the more meaningful books for me, for predictable reasons: the parallels are in-your-face obvious. Except, Hoffman is Jewish, and her family’s war experiences were, therefore, somewhat different than those of my parents/grandparents.

Hoffman has published another book, just this month. A fragment of it can be read online (NYT Book Review). The book, “After Such Knowledge: Where Memory of the Holocaust Ends and History Begins,” will have to bump all other reading material for a while. There are some books that one has to get going on, ASAP.