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Fiction

Biographies & Memoirs, Fiction & Literature

For Readers Of

Literary Fiction, Historical Fiction, Apart From Love, The David Chronicles, Home

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Print Length

132

ISBN

0984993231

Publisher

Uvi Poznansky

Publication Date

September 2012

Language

English

About the Book    About the Author

Home. A simple word; a loaded one. You can say it in a whisper; you can say it in a cry. Expressed in the voices of father and daughter, you can hear a visceral longing for an ideal place, a place never to be found again.

Imagine the shock, imagine the sadness when a daughter discovers her father's work, the poetry he had never shared with anyone during the last two decades of his life. Six years after that moment of discovery, which happened in her childhood home while mourning for his passing, Uvi Poznansky presents a tender tribute: a collection of poems and prose, half of which is written by her, and half-by her father, the author, poet and artist Zeev Kachel. She has been translating his poems for nearly a year, with careful attention to rhyme and rhythm, in an effort to remain faithful to the spirit of his words.

Zeev's writing is always autobiographical in nature; you can view it as an ongoing diary of his life. Uvi's writing is rarely so, especially when it comes to her prose. She is a storyteller who delights in conjuring up various figments of her imagination, and fleshing them out on paper. She sees herself chasing her characters with a pen, in an attempt to see the world from their point of view, and to capture their voices. But in some of her poems, she offers you a rare glimpse into her most guarded, intensely private moments, yearning for Home.

Editorial Reviews

5 stars Pain and Beauty

By Linda Whitehead Humbert on August 31, 2014

Although I have read several of Ms. Poznansky's books, none have touched me more deeply than Home. Before the first 10 pages, I was not only in tears, but that melancholic ache that I often feel when hearing certain pieces of music, or reading about Ireland and Scotland (where my ancestors came from) descended deeply into my chest, and as of yet not faded. I suppose that part of the ache is because I can feel tiny parts of the horror that not only Holocaust survivors lived through, but the survivor's children as well. That great cost of inexplicable evil should never be forgotten. Both the prose and the poetry stirred me deeply, and I wept for that boy who endured so much, the angry man who could not control his darkness, and the lonely man who had no idea how his words would soar and live. Both authors are forever embedded into my soul. It was an honor and privilege to read.

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