Crossing is a moving and gripping work of literature, at once an unforgettable portrait of a vanished way of life, a decimated people, a nightmare experience, and the precise description of what happened to the mind and soul of a young man for whom violence and death became, by force of circumstance, the ordinary themes of life.
Jan Yoors was born to a cultured, liberal family of artists, but at the age of twelve he ran off with a Gypsy tribe and lived with the kumpania on and off for the next ten years. During World War II, Yoors worked with the Allies to help the Gypsies who were being systematically exterminated. He was captured twice and imprisoned until the end of the war.
In 1950 Yoors settled in New York City, where he set up a studio and constructed a 15-foot vertical loom. His wife Marianne and her sister Annebert joined him in 1951; they were to collaborate with Yoors in the weaving of all his work. His work brought him international acclaim.
In the 1960s Yoors deepened his interest in photography. He returned to Europe to reestablish contact with those Gypsies who had survived the Holocaust. The pictures he took on this journey became an exhibition at the National Museum of Science in New York City and now illustrate the paperback edition of "The Gypsies".
Good continuation of the personal history Yoors began in The Gypsies (https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1...), covering the years 1939-1943 and his work with his Lowara family and other Romani to disrupt the Nazi's. There is less description of the structure of Romani society and more discussion of the differences between the way the Romani opposed the Nazis and that of the mainstream resistance.
I particularly enjoyed the account of the "kris" at which the Romani debated and agreed on the way they would cooperate with the Gaje in fighting the Nazis.
Also noteworthy was the way that Yoors, an artist, used his memory of colour to distract himself during his period of imprisonment and torture after being betrayed.
This book is written by the Belgian Jan Yoors. It is the second of his books that I have read. In his first book “The Gypsies” he describes how he began living with a gypsy (Rom) ‘cumpania’ as a teenager, and begun to learn about their ways of life whilst they gradually accepted him as one of their own kind. In the second book, “Crossing”, Yoors, by now regarded as a fully-fledged Rom by the cumpania that had adopted him and also by other Rom that he met, writes about his experiences with the Rom community during the Second World War (‘WW2’).
The Allied authorities fighting the Germans realised that the Rom were eminently suited to assist the efforts of the Resistance in France. Monsieur Henri recruits Yoors to become an intermediary between the Rom and the mysterious groups who worked incognito to organise acts of resistance against the Germans. All goes well for a while, but inevitably Yoors is arrested by the Nazi security police.
As in his first book, Yoors writes lyrically and sensitively about the Rom and what he learned about their idiosyncratic philosophy of life. It was what he learnt from his fellow Rom that helped him survive the most horrendous imprisonment and interrogations.
The last and very exciting part of the book describes Yoors’s role in smuggling people from Axis-occupied Europe across the Pyrenees into Franco’s neutral Spain.
After the war, Yoors became an artist in the USA, specialising in tapestry. This book, like his first, is a work of - art a fascinating tapestry of words beautifully woven together. A great read!
It happened again - I accidentally read a holocaust book. If I actually looked at the book jacket or reviews before starting, it wouldn't be a such a surprise, but instead I got halfway in and found myself in WWII, in German-occupied territory, in a minority group, again.
I was surprised to find the author there. He'd been with the Rom for the fun of it, the good feels. What was he doing sticking around to stick it to the Nazis? His eventual and unpleasant arrest was awful but not a shock - he lived dangerously. And I'm glad he did. Thank you for your service, sir.
I wouldn't have read the whole thing if it weren't for the Rom wisdom and the author's way with words. At times, he is absolutely poetic - more often than not, really. He's convinced me. I need to run off and lives with the Gypsies, fight for right, and live to tell the tale.
Perhaps the best parts are those where the gypsies speak in sayings and metaphors. A few quotes:
In these times a man should resist being seduced by death. He should not face the morning sun as if it were already night! Heroism is to stay alive in the face of danger and dare to love.
There are lies, as you know, more easily believed than truth, and courage about death often disguises cowardice about life.
Man should be able to live with his experiences and with himself. If a tree is straight what does it matter if to some it appears crooked?
Even wise men occasionally said foolish things, but only foolish men believed them. Those who play out of need seldom win The antidote taken before the poison turns to poison itself The true nettle stings from the beginning Those who are forced to go to church pray badly Acid corrodes its own container
Yoors' follow-up to The Gypsies describes his life during WWII, as he becomes a liaison between British intelligence and the gypsies, who become active in smuggling fugitives, goods, and arms, and eventually sabotage. Yoors is betrayed by an informer, imprisoned, tortured, and inexplicably released, only to become hunted again by the Nazis. The book ends before D-Day, and my only major complaint about the book is that we never find out what happened to Yoors, Pulika, Kore or the other main gypsy characters (though it is intimated in The Gypsies that they were exterminated by the Nazis.) Still, this book and its predecessor stand as thoughtful and perceptive accounts about a culture that would survive attempts at eradication but be irrevocably altered by the war and technology.