Thursday’s (Penultimate) Pre-Publication Post

It has been an exciting and eventful week for Quiet Americans (and, therefore, for me).

First, Quiet Americans received an incredibly detailed and perceptive review over on Gently Read Literature. I’m so grateful to reviewer Anne Whitehouse for her careful and generous reading. I can’t resist giving you a sample, so here’s the first paragraph:

The characters in Erika Dreifus’ profound first collection of stories, Quiet Americans, are first and foremost survivors, or else descended from, or married to survivors. They count themselves among the lucky few that got out alive, escaped from the vast conflagration of a people–European Jewry–and their distinguished culture—a broad, liberal, freedom-loving culture that had flourished despite a history of persecution and humiliation, but did not survive the Holocaust. They share a sense of life’s precariousness, of the accidents of destiny. They fear that in an instant they might lose all that constitutes their position and well being. They find themselves caught between a sense of hard reality and a hope for the future. They are “quiet Americans” because they don’t tend to speak out or try to call attention to themselves. They don’t want to make a fuss and are generally grateful to be left alone—“better not to give crazy people any reason to get any crazier.”

(By the way, reviews and press about Quiet Americans will henceforth be collected right here.)

Next, I was thrilled to see Quiet Americans emerge as an enthusiastic subject of conversation on this month’s EarlyWord Galley Chat on Twitter. (Also gleaned that a review will be published in the March issue of Shelf Unbound.) Thanks to everyone who participated in the chat for the surprise highlight of my Tuesday!

Finally (drumroll, please!): Quiet Americans is now available on Amazon.com. Yes, I know the official release date is January 19. But if you know me at all, and you know that I’m working with a micropress where the authors are heavily involved with the publication process, you’re not surprised that the book is available a little bit ahead of time.

In related news: Behind the scenes, I’m continuing to prepare for our Winter Blog Tour and my upcoming events in Washington, D.C.

Please stay tuned for next week’s Thursday post–our last one before we shift officially from “pre-publication” to “post-publication” posts!

Richard Holbrooke’s German War Photo–And Mine

I’ve been quietly reading as much as I can find about Richard Holbrooke since the diplomat’s unexpected death earlier this month. And I’ve noticed that in several articles, including this reprinted excerpt from Abigail Pogrebin’s Stars of David: Prominent Jews Talk About Being Jewish, mention has been made of a certain photograph close to Holbrooke’s heart:

A New York Times profile of Holbrooke during his tenure in Germany described how he displayed, in his elegant ambassador’s residence, a photograph of his grandfather in a World War I uniform: “I show it to German visitors as a symbol of what they lost,” Holbrooke told the Times. When I ask him about it now, he shows me the very picture. “Every German family has a photograph like that. And so I just kept it in the living room. Some people would ignore it; others would stop and stare at it. Some would demand to know why it was there—what was the message I was sending? I said, ‘This is an existential fact; this is my grandfather. You may read anything you wish into this photograph.’ And I also said, ‘If history had turned out differently, maybe I’d be Germany’s ambassador to the United States instead of America’s ambassador to Germany.’ My mother didn’t like it at all. She said it was a militaristic picture and there are a lot of nicer pictures; she’s not into symbolism at all. And it’s true; I could have had an ordinary picture of my grandfather. But don’t you find that picture—the original, with his handwriting—extraordinary?”

I don’t know about every German family, but my German-Jewish (now American) family has a photo like this, too. And I have a copy in my home, clustered within a group of other family photographs. It depicts my great-grandfather, Kaufmann Dreifus, with his German soldier fellows.

My great-grandfather, Kaufmann Dreifus, is in the front row, second from the left.

We’re not sure of the date, but we know that Kaufmann (like the character modeled after him in “Matrilineal Descent,” the second story in my forthcoming short-fiction collection, Quiet Americans) served his native Germany in World War I. (He died a few years later, a diabetic before insulin became widely available.)

It’s true. I, too, could display an ordinary picture of my great-grandfather.

But don’t you find this picture—not to mention the fact that a copy remains for me to scan into a computer from my home in New York City—extraordinary?

A side note: I reviewed Stars of David when it was published five years ago. To read the review, please click here.

The Wednesday Web Browser

  • This week, I’m reading Andrew Furman’s new memoir, My Los Angeles in Black and (Almost) White. It’s a very absorbing read—and I’d say that even if Andy weren’t a friend! Over on her Reading for Writers blog, A. P. Bucak, who has already finished the book, seems to feel the same way.
  • Stacy Schiff shares advice for aspiring biographers.
  • You still have three days to buy Christmas presents, and Writer Abroad has some gift suggestions for the international writers on your lists.
  • My latest book review tackles some questions about how anthologies are compiled.
  • The ever-reliable After Deadline blog presents a new batch of “notes from the newsroom on grammar, usage and style.”
  • Review of Promised Lands: New Jewish American Fiction on Longing and Belonging

    My latest book review, a discussion of Promised Lands: New Jewish American Fiction on Longing and Belonging (Brandeis University Press/University Press of New England, $26.00), edited by Derek Rubin, is now online at JewishJournal.com. As good as most of the stories in this anthology are–and they are, indeed–this was a challenging review to write. See what you think of this review, and please consider the questions that I’ve raised there about how anthologies are compiled. I’m interested in your thoughts.

    The Wednesday Web Browser

  • All of us who participate on the Poets & Writers Speakeasy discussion boards are immensely proud of Rebecca Makkai (aka “kismacko”), a three-time Best American Short Stories (BASS) author whose first novel is forthcoming in June. This weekend, we had the pleasure of hearing Rebecca read from her story on NPR, in a feature in which Richard Russo, who edited this year’s BASS volume, talks about some of his choices.
  • Also on the subject of the Russo-edited BASS volume–but far less celebratory–is Roxane Gay’s HTMLGIANT post, “A Profound Sense of Absence.”
  • The Writer brings you writing-book recommendations from several of the magazine’s book reviewers (including yours truly).
  • I’ve just begun reading Ellen Meeropol’s debut novel, House Arrest, which will be out on February 1 (look for an interview in the March Practicing Writer). I am especially taken with the author’s recent blog post on the subject of what the book’s early readers have taught her about her own work.
  • Finally, Bill Roorbach’s blog post on “reference season” is something every student, teacher, and potential student/potential teacher should read. Especially students and teachers of creative writing.