W. Michael Blumenthal
Born
The United States
Website
Genre
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All My Mothers and Fathers: A Memoir
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published
2002
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7 editions
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The Invisible Wall
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published
1998
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5 editions
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Days We Would Rather Know
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published
1984
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4 editions
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Against Romance
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published
1987
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5 editions
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From Exile to Washington: A Memoir of Leadership in the Twentieth Century
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Sympathetic magic
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published
1980
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5 editions
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Laps
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published
1984
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4 editions
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In achtzig Jahren um die Welt
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Daniel Libeskind and the Jewish Museum of Berlin
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Leo Baeck Institute Tenth Annual Dinner (LBI Occasional Paper #5)
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“Surely the wicked witches of our childhood have died and, from where they are buried, a great kindness has eclipsed their misdeeds. Yes, of course, in the end so much comes down to privilege and its various penumbras, but too much of our unruly animus has already been wasted on reprisals, too much of the unblessed air is filled with smoke from undignified fires. Oh friends, take whatever kindness you can find and be profligate in its expenditure: It will not drain your limited resources, I assure you, it will not leave you vulnerable and unfurled.”
― No Hurry: Poems 2000-2012
― No Hurry: Poems 2000-2012
“You are holding up a ceiling
with both arms. It is very heavy,
but you must hold it up, or else
it will fall down on you. Your arms
are tired, terribly tired,
and, as the day goes on, it feels
as if either your arms or the ceiling
will soon collapse.
But then,
unexpectedly,
something wonderful happens:
Someone,
a man or a woman,
walks into the room
and holds their arms up
to the ceiling beside you.
So you finally get
to take down your arms.
You feel the relief of respite,
the blood flowing back
to your fingers and arms.
And when your partner’s arms tire,
you hold up your own
to relieve him again.
And it can go on like this
for many years
without the house falling.”
―
with both arms. It is very heavy,
but you must hold it up, or else
it will fall down on you. Your arms
are tired, terribly tired,
and, as the day goes on, it feels
as if either your arms or the ceiling
will soon collapse.
But then,
unexpectedly,
something wonderful happens:
Someone,
a man or a woman,
walks into the room
and holds their arms up
to the ceiling beside you.
So you finally get
to take down your arms.
You feel the relief of respite,
the blood flowing back
to your fingers and arms.
And when your partner’s arms tire,
you hold up your own
to relieve him again.
And it can go on like this
for many years
without the house falling.”
―
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