Shtetl: The Life and Death of a Small Town and the World of Polish Jews

by Eva Hoffman

An unforgettable evocation of the lost world of Polish Jewry, Shtetl is a "beautifully written" (Village Voice) mining of the deep rifts in Polish-Jewish relations in the small town of Bransk. With understanding and sensitivity, Shtetl limns the culture that influenced Christian villagers' decisions to conceal or betray Jewish neighbors when the Nazis invaded. A New York Times Notable Book.

Genres: History, Jewish, Nonfiction, Holocaust, Poland, Judaism, Judaica

272 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1997

About the author

Eva Hoffman is a writer and academic. She was born Ewa Wydra July 1, 1945 in Cracow, Poland after her Jewish parents survived the Holocaust by hiding in the Ukraine. In 1959, during the Cold War, the thirteen years old Eva, her nine years old sister "Alinka" and her parents immigrated to Vancouver, Canada, where her name has been changed to Eva. Upon graduating from high school she received a scholarship and studied English literature at Rice University, Texas in 1966, the Yale School of Music (1967-68), and Harvard University, where she received a Ph.D. in English and American literature in 1974.

Eva Hoffmann has been a professor of literature and creative writing at various institutions, such as Columbia University, the University of Minnesota, and Tufts. From 1979 to 1990, she worked as an editor and writer at The New York Times, serving as senior editor of “The Book Review” from 1987 to 1990. In 1990, she received the Jean Stein Award from the American Academy of Arts and Letters and in 1992, the Guggenheim Fellowship for General Nonfiction, as well as the Whiting Writers' Award. In 2000, Eva Hoffman has been the Year 2000 Una Lecturer at the Townsend Center for the Humanities at the University of California, Berkeley. In 2008, she was awarded an honorary DLitt by the University of Warwick. Eva leads a seminar in memoir once every two years as a part of CUNY Hunter College's Master of Fine Arts Program in Creative Writing.

She now lives in London.

Her sister, Dr. Alina Wydra is a registered psychologist working in Vancouver, British Columbia.

Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eva_Hoffman

Reviews

[Anna · Rating 4 out of 5]

Obligatory read for those who think that anti - Semitism is a part of Poles. Helping Jews was punished by death of helpers and often their families. To hide one Jew at least few people were needed. Poles are the biggest group of Righteous among the Nations (Righteous Gentiles). For those who believe in all that crap like Polish death camps, come to Poland, meet people, learn their part of story.

[Bibliophile · Rating 4 out of 5]

In Shtetl, Eva Hoffman attempts to tell the troubled and complex story of relations between Poles and Jews from medieval times until the Holocaust through the lens of one small, not particularly famous Polish village called Bransk. Hoffman's writing is superb, and approaches the subject with a calm even-handedness that tries to dig deeper than the stereotypes that modern-day Poles and Jews have of each other. I've actually read this twice, and it was well worth the re-read.

[Lewis Weinstein · Rating 4 out of 5]

I've read about half of the book; will finish later.

Eva Hoffman has written a very balanced and nuanced presentation of life for both Jews and ethnic Poles in the years between the wars and during the holocaust. It was a very tough time for Poland. Nobody behaved perfectly. They had their differences and difficulties. In the 20 years of independence (1919-39), they came a long way, albeit with some reversals. But for the Germans, who regarded both Jews and ethnic Poles as subhuman, they might have worked things out.

[Connie Ostrowski · Rating 4 out of 5]

Hoffman effectively presents "the story of Polish-Jewish coexistence [which occurred over about 1000 years] as a long experiment in multiculturalism avant la lettre" (9). Her claim that "from the perspective of today, aspects of Eastern European history are beginning to look presciently relevant, and to foreshadow some of the dilemmas with which advanced contemporary societies are struggling. This is particularly true of the problems of pluralism and ethnic coexistence" (9)--along with specific details from both the general history of Poland and the eastern Polish town/shtetl of Bran'sk (the accent goes over the "n")--successfully refute the unfortunate popular belief that Poles are inherently anti-Semitic.

Her argument offers sociological and psychological perspectives on the story of the relationship of the two groups, as well as some impressionistic characterizations (the last when she's trying to get us to imagine some aspects of life in Bran'sk). She handles the very complex subject without the oversimplifications or overgeneralizations that have often been used to excuse, condemn, or idealize.

As a non-historian, I can't speak to the appropriateness of the book being categorized as "history"; I know that to the extent that I wanted it to be history, I wanted to see far more primary historical sources (though she lists a respectable number in the bibliography) and a wider variety of secondary sources on the history of Poland. However, based on her other works that I've read, I don't know that she was trying to write a "history"; rather, I think her book defies being straight-jacketed into any one particular genre. Perhaps that's more appropriate for a book intended for the general public rather than a specialized academic audience.

I strongly recommend that people read this work for a variety of reasons, one of the most important being her comment in the epilogue:
"If we are to live together in multicultural societies, then in addition to cultivating differences, we need a sense of a shared world. This does not preclude the possibility of preserving and even nurturing strong cultural, spiritual, and ethnic identities in the private realm, nor does it suggest collapsing such identities into a universal 'human nature.' "

[Jonfaith · Rating 3 out of 5]

Jake Pfau selected this book on samizdat and then never posted again. Forgive my snark, but it sucks being him. This book inspired some decent discussions and was appreciated by all. You still suck, Jake.

[Julie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Non-fiction about the history of the Polish people and the Jewish people in a small town (a shtetl) in Bransk, Poland. The history helps illuminate the relationship between the two groups during WWII. It reads like a text book, but it is very informative and interesting.

[Dagmar Cunningham · Rating 3 out of 5]

interesting view on Eastern European History and Multiculturalism.

[Glen · Rating 3 out of 5]

It is time to pay attention. Eva Hoffman tells a history I did not know. She also tells about people living in that history, and I appreciate better the impossible dilemmas presented by 40 years of war and peace because of this book. The writing is warm and peopled with interesting characters. There are some parts that are hard to read: shocking wartime sketches. Just a little bit of that. An informative sketch of Jewish and Polish life in a part of Poland hit hard by war and strife, and of cultural memory in the time after the wars.

[Mike Goldstein · Rating 4 out of 5]

I want to read twenty more books like this. There should be a book like this for every Jewish community in Poland.

I've always craved this kind of glimpse into day-to-day life. And I really, really needed this added nuance to my view of the Polish-Jewish relationship. It's easy to view Eastern European Jewish culture as purely smothered and oppressed. But that takes away the agency of the Jews who lived there, and it turns the non-Jews in the surrounding communities into cardboard cutouts. Eva Hoffman takes square aim at that kind of reductiveness, leaving plenty of room for both ugliness and a tentative (and lost) sense of community.

In a strange way, this was also one of the most affecting Holocaust narratives I've ever read. I think it's because "Shtetl" didn't make the Shoah seem as inevitable, as much of a foregone conclusion as books solely about that event will. After reading through hundreds of years of sporadic violence, natural disaster, invasions and mundane persistence and co-existence, the Holocaust as a completely external event, as a happening of pure evil that came with an invading army and moral chaos, sort of felt like an act of God. The complete destruction of this community somehow felt even more powerful for the fact that it came from the outside, and because it tore apart the fabric of a surprisingly durable community with such ruthless efficiency.

All that said - still four stars. The book takes 50 or 60 pages to really get started, with the whole first section being an overview of the history of Polish Jews up until 1800 or so. That history was really interesting to me, and I learned all sorts of facts, but it still felt a little rushed and dense and was really just a prelude to the author's true story. So one star lost there.

PS: The small interactions the author has with amateur Polish historians and average Polish townspeople are completely complex and tense and fascinating too. I'd definitely like to read more about the current dynamic.

[Galicius · Rating 3 out of 5]

The author is objective on her main concern to explore the relationship between Poles and Jews over the span of some 800 years. She gives credit to the record that more Jews lived in Poland than any other European country because they found it a more acceptable nation to maintain their separate culture, language, and religion.

She is very brief about German Nazi anti-Semitism. She describes the German soldiers’ “frightening hard faces”. They “were hardly individual; they were embodiments of an abstract force”. (p. 245)

Credit is due to the author to set the record straight to the more recent media created perception that refers to “Polish concentration camps”. This falsifying of history is difficult to understand. But it comes up still. Even President Obama referred to “Polish death camps” while awarding a medal of honor to a Polish hero of WWII in May 2012. The author explains that the only thing Polish about the camps is German decision to locate them where their victims lived so they wouldn’t have to transport them to Germany, Austria or elsewhere.

Her research is quite extensive and her background is impressive. The early history part is a bit muddled. I wish it were better organized.

[Elaine · Rating 3 out of 5]

Somewhat disappointing mainly because I am interested in the period between 1905 and the onset of WWI, and Eva Hoffman's focus is on very early (17th C. ) history and WWII. Understandable because the primary source of information is the Yizgor book from the Polish shtetl of Bransk, but not as useful to me. Hoffman is the former editor of the NYTimes Book Review, so her language is fluid and the writing is complex but very comprehensible. A good history, just not what I needed.

[Natalie L. · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent! Eva Hoffman is well researched and writes beautifully. This is a historic overview of the the Polish shtetl from its beginnings through the present. Hoffman artfully takes the read from the broader historic perspective to a personal account of the shtetl, Bransk.

[Alana Cash · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a short book (258 pages + notes) to cover 800 years of history, but it's focused on one little town in Poland - Bransk - and the Jewish experience over that period of time. Hoffman uses a book, the Yizkor Book that was maintained by the Bransk Jewry down the ages, as well as interviews with residents still living, and archival research to delineate the history.

The author is blatantly honest about what she learns and any reader can gain a perspective on the historic relationship with Poles and Jews - their rivalries for power, jealousies, cooperation, and friendships.

Most enlightening was the end of the book. World War II. Poland had been partitioned between Germany, Russia, and Austria for over 100 years, restored as a country only in 1918 at the end of WWI. When WWII started, Poland was faced the Germans to the east and the Soviets to the west both trying to take control again. Poland had no real army, so the Soviet-German front was back and forth through Poland. 3 million Poles died.

The infamous death camps were built on sites convenient to the Nazis in Germany, Austria, Hungary, Poland - all across Europe. They were built by the Nazis and forced labor and 11 million people died in them. Many Poles were sent to the camps by the Nazis. Other Poles were sent to Siberia by the Soviet Army.

There were many Poles who harbored Jews and many too afraid of being murdered to do so. As Hoffman says, [Bransk became]..."a zone in which the indigenous population, not very sophisticated or educated was rewarded (poorly) for selling the lives of its neighbors and killed for helping them." And Hoffman further states, "There are Jewish survivors honest enough the say that if the roles had been reversed, they cannot vouch for how they would have acted toward people whom they still call 'the goyim.'"

The book provokes the question: What would you do?

PS - this book needs an index

[Tim.Larocco · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an excellent book which is well-written and analyzed. The topic is on the relationship between two common victims--Poles and Jews--over the course of several centuries but with particular emphasis on the time before and during the Holocaust. The introduction, which is about 20 pages long, is one of the best essays I've read in a long time. So many great quotes/passages and open-ended questions, which remain to so many of us unanswered.

"It may be a purist illusion to think that we can understand members of other cultures with perfect impartiality or perfect empathy." A quote which could be read as a palindrome of sorts, applicable to both Poles and Jews.

While the Poles were fighting off the Nazis more ferociously than any other country not named the USSR, the biggest minority group in Poland was slaughtered wholesale. Could the Poles have done more to protect the Jews? Was the Jewish apprehension and resistance towards assimilation in the centuries proceeding the Holocaust to blame for the lack of meaningful relationships between the two groups?

These are heavy questions, and Hoffman treats the subject matter which brave objectivity.

[W. Champion · Rating 4 out of 5]

Unique view of history

Eva Hoffman here offers a careful and unique perspective on the history of Jews in Poland, from centuries back until World War II. She is even handed in describing that history, with its the ups and downs between Poles and Jews, her focus being the small towns, the shtetls, and one in particular - Bransk, near the Russian border. I enjoyed the way she captures the real life of the place in good times and bad, a view one never gets in most histories. She goes to the town, talks to its people and listens to the stories. Tales of thriving markets long ago and of wartime horrors are equally vivid, the latter hauntingly so, as for example, of the Bransk Jews hiding from the Gestapo in the surrounding forest.

Throughout its history, Poland has so often been caught in the middle between warring neighbors. In this book Hoffman clarifies how this history has complicated the role of the Polish Jews, leading ultimately to their sad exodus. Her research and insights are enlightening.

[Jenel · Rating 4 out of 5]

"from the perspective of today, aspects of Eastern European history are beginning to look presciently relevant, and to foreshadow some of the dilemmas with which advanced contemporary societies are struggling. This is particularly true of the problems of pluralism and ethnic coexistence"

Worthy of a read even decades after its publication.

[Charles Cohen · Rating 4 out of 5]

I've never explored what pre-war Eastern Europe looked like at street level, and this was a fascinating walk through the last few hundred years of history of an eastern Polish town, and how it was affected by waves of war, passed back and forth between conquering countries, and what that meant for its Jewish community.

[5greenway · Rating 5 out of 5]

A sober, even-handed account of a culture, from beginnings through turbulent histories to its final destruction. A short book for a big story and that raises big questions, achieves a good balance between depth and breadth.

[Hannah Bristow · Rating 3 out of 5]

More a musing on the question of how we perceive history through the veil of the holocaust and the question and complexity of antisemitism in Poland and in multiculturalism, more than a specific history. A recounting of the act of remembering

[Seth Arnopole · Rating 5 out of 5]

A nuanced look at the history of the Polish shtetl, with a particular focus on one town in eastern Poland.

[Sophie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Easy read. I like Eva's writing style.

[Andrey · Rating 2 out of 5]

Not as good as I was hoping for. Much too short, we're talking bout a 2 hour read. Based on previous reviews i thought this would be a day in the life of a shtetl or something similar to a forest unseen, where we watch from one place the daily actives of the shtetl.

No, it's just the author talking about her trip to Poland in 2000 and mixing in some random histories she found. Really weak stuff. :(

Not a novel nor a history book, it's a blog about a trip.

[Wendy · Rating 4 out of 5]

"In post-Holocaust memory," the author writes, "Poland holds an exceptional place: that was where most of the world's Jewish population lived before the war, and that was where the extermination of European Jewry took place." While in "Jewish memory...Poland has come to figure as the very heart of darkness," among Poles, a kind of collective amnesia settled in immediately after the war and to a large extent continues to this day. With the Law and Justice Party in power, the struggle over Poland's story continues, and Hoffman' book unfortunately is just as relevant as it was when it was published in 1997.

She begins with a small town, a shtetl, called Bransk, where a local man had become obsessed by the town's lost Jewish heritage. She recounts her visit and her conversations, steps back to tell the long history of Jews in this region. She draws on the Yizkor Book, which like others for shtetls in the region preserves what memories remained in the immediate aftermath of World War II. She recounts in detail what happened as the Germans moved in, then the Soviets, and then the Germans. She turns to one of the few who managed to survive, Jack Rubin, as he looked back years later, to written accounts by partisans, and to interviews with other first-hand witnesses, including a Polish woman who had sheltered Jewish neighbors.

The story, she writes in her epilogue, "induces awe, and it induces horror. To touch it is to risk moral vertigo, a sickness unto death. But if we choose not to fall silent before it (as we well might), if we choose to reflect and analyze, then what can we make of it, what can we understand?" The essay that follows is one of the best I've read on this terrible subject, and relevant right now in the United States, where blind hate and prejudice are once again getting the upper hand. "Perhaps," she says, "it isn't even right to speak of motives. The war in Poland created circumstances so uniquely terrible that the usual patterns of cause, intention, and consequence were altered, as the behavior of molecules alters under extraordinary pressure." After the war ended, she writes, "it was necessary to bring transgressors to justice. It was necessary to mourn and to hate." But 50 years later, perhaps "the task of memory may be not to forgive the guilty but to put together the disparate parts of the picture, to understand the structure of the awful situation as a whole."

Those who know Hoffman from Lost in Translation will recognize her voice in this section, as she walks through the town, reflecting, as she visits the memorial the local historian has created from the gravestones he has found and collected there. "Nothing can bring back what was lost; after the Holocaust, we are in an era of symbolic action. But symbolically, this is an act of synthesis and reconciliation. It is time to pay attention, wherever possible, to such acts--to attend to each others' pasts. The absence of mercy during the war had consequences so dark that is shadow has covered the horizon of perception. For too long afterward, the two memories remained insulated, deepening old rifts and wounds. It is time for Poles and Jews to recover the memory of generosity and the generosity of memory, to take the risk of erring on the side of compassion. For ourselves, we need to stop splitting our own memories and perceptions in half, and pushing away those parts which are too distressing for owning or acknowledgment. As for those who perished, the time may have come to let them rest in our full remembrance, and in peace."