Festival wrap up and writing competition winner

We are excited to have hosted another successful Sydney Jewish Writers Festival. We hope you enjoyed it as much as we did. The range of outstanding presenters, the diversity of subjects and the thought provoking ideas all combined to make it a wonderful Festival with over 500 people attending over 3 days. We have put many photos on our Facebook page and encourage you to tag yourself. 

Thanks to all our amazing presenters and volunteers, we couldn't have done it without you. 

We wanted to post the outstanding winning entry for this year's Australian Jewish News writing competition:

KIBBUTZ MOTHER

By Elle Kaye

Typical Kibbutz

She was pregnant again. It had taken her time to work it out but now she knew. It had been five years since the last pregnancy and she thought she was done. She placed her hand protectively on the tiny bump that she only now acknowledged for what itwas. A girl. She could tell.

She vacillated between joy and dread as she contemplated the being inside her. She allowed herself to close her eyes and fantasise about this one. About holding her. Kissing her all over her soft, downy head. Smelling her. Breathing her in. comforting her. Brushing away her tears. Smiling at her. Singing to her. Rocking her. And then she opened her eyes. Enough silliness, she scolded herself.

Children at Kibbutz

When she had left her family for the Kibbutz she didn’t think about children. In the early days, she didn’t think she wanted any. She watched the other women grow fat with their children and she judged them and their supposed sickness, their supposed fatigue. Any excuse not to work, she had scoffed. She judged them their weakness and tears – of course the children should be raised collectively. What did they think this was? Summer camp? She judged them their tears and their milk stained clothes and their softness. This was no place for softness.

When she had the first one she tried, and succeeded, to remain as distant as possible. When they discouraged her from breastfeeding too often, she agreed. It would only spoil the child.

When they recommended against visiting during the workday,

she blushed with embarrassment. Of course she mustn’t coddle

her. So she determined to set an example. She kept away. She

weaned her as soon as possible. Understanding the other

mothers now, she only judged them more harshly. When they spoke of their grief, of their need to be with their babies, she tut-tutted and continued with her work. But the ache. The ache within her. That parasitic ache for her child. She ignored it. She would conquer it.

She spent the required hour a day with the baby. The smell as she walked up the path towards the room made her sick. Chicken soup. Every day, at this hour, the children were fed chicken soup. She would be handed a yellow or orange bowl of mushed chicken and vegetables. She would spoon the mush into her wary daughter’s mouth. She watched in judgment as the other mothers smiled and cooed at their children. She held her head

high as the woman in charge of the babies praised her for

treating her daughter like an adult. For refusing to talk gibberish at her. She was assured that her daughter would grow up to be a useful member of the collective. She nodded. Smiled tightly. That

was the aim after all. The mission. Wasn’t it?

The second child was male. And she was told to be even tougher

with him. But her resolve crumbled like the quiver of her lips as

she had to hand him over too. She ran into the thorn fields and

allowed herself to sob then. And then, she returned to work. And

told her man there would be no more.

But this time. This baby. This baby she did not want to let go.

She felt like a petulant toddler. She wanted to stamp her foot. To

holler and scream and hit the floor with her fists, her head.

Image: bajasfamilyrestaurant

Wanted someone to listen to her. But what would she say? What did she know? She was just ignorant. Corrupted by the bourgeoisie values of the family she left.

It was time to visit the children. She walked down the path and smelled the familiar sickening smell. She knew her nausea had nothing to do with her pregnancy. She fed them. Gave them the perfunctory kiss that was expected. She stood and left. 
The fragrance of the chicken soup lingered as she shut the door behind her.

Thanks for coming!

We weren’t sure what to expect when we decided to hold a Day at the Sydney Jewish Writers’ Festival this year.  Traditionally the SJWF has been a biennial event but following the success of the 2012 festival, we decided to hold a smaller-scale event this year. The response was anything but small-scale!

Feedback from the nearly 400 people that attended either Thursday’s launch with acclaimed French author Laurent Binet or Sunday’s main program has been overwhelmingly positive.  People enjoyed the varied sessions and the excellent presenters.

In particular, visiting Israeli professor Michael Bar-Zohar’s sessions on terrorism and Israeli spy agency, the Mossad, met with rave reviews.  It was standing room only as he told tales of the Ethiopian airlift, Black September and the murder of the Israeli athletes in Munich, and Israel’s efforts to slow Iran’s nuclear program.

Prof Michael Bar-Zohar discusses the Mossad with Michaela Kalowski. Photo: David Sokol 

People also flocked to hear visiting Israeli journalist Boaz Bismuth and Middle East analyst Lydia Khalil talk about the so-called Arab Spring.  They discussed the risks involved in an attack on Syria, the challenges of translating change in civil society to political success, and the potential role for the international community.

Boaz Bismuth and Lydia Khalil discuss the Arab Spring. Photo: David Sokol

Other stand-out speakers included social commentator Hugh Mackay who shared his research and wisdom about what makes a good life, intermingled with Jewish ideas raised by Rabbi Michoel Gourarie who interviewed him. Andrea Goldsmith discussed the role of memory and monuments in our lives. Iranian Jew Kooshyar Karimi revealed the heavy price he paid for acting against the Iranian government. Academics David Bird and Christopher Waters illuminated a relatively unknown but fascinating part of Australian history discussing pro-Nazi sympathisers in Australia and the policy of appeasement led by PM Menzies. Bryan Gaensler wowed audiences with the origins of the universe.

Everyone enjoyed the diverse program and engaging speakers as well as the opportunity to have their books signed by the authors at the Festival bookshop. A numbers of books even sold out.

Hugh Mackay autographs his book after his session, 'What makes a life worth living?'

Clearly the great Jewish literary talent out there is matched by the desire of the community to engage with Jewish writing. We can’t wait for more excellent programming in 2014. In the meantime, stay connected with us via our Facebook page. 

As the Jewish New Year approaches we want to wish you and yours, Shana Tova.

Keeping the Bedroom Door Open: Why Erotic Romance Isn’t Porn (Disproving the Common Myth)

Our guest blogger, JESS DEE, writes her top selling erotic romance novels under a pseudonym so the racy content of her books doesn't colour the way the community perceives her. Yet all will be revealed on Sunday 1 September at 4.45pm when she speaks at A Day at the SJWF. Just don't confuse her work for porn. 

As a romance author, I am often asked why I choose to write pornography. My answer is simple: I don’t write pornography. Nor do I write erotica, smut, mommy porn or soft porn—all terms loosely bandied around since the phenomenal success of Fifty Shades of Grey.

I write erotic romance, stories about characters falling in love and struggling to overcome any odds they may face in order to be together and find their happy ending. Unlike other genres of romantic fiction, erotic romances have fully described and explicit love scenes, all of which are central to the plot and the development of the romantic relationship. At no point is the bedroom door ever closed to the reader.

Erotic romance is not limited to the traditional idea of two characters (a man and a woman) falling in love. Non-traditional relationships, such gay, lesbian and bisexual relationships, as well as ménage/multiple partner relationships are popular choices among readers and writers.

So let’s clear up the common misconception that erotic romance, erotica and porn are one and the same. I've taking the liberty of borrowing internationally best-selling author Sylvia Day’s definitions of the three terms to highlight their differences:

Porn: stories written for the express purpose of causing sexual titillation. Plot, character development, and romance are NOT primary to these stories. They are designed to sexually arouse the reader and nothing else.

Erotica: stories written about the sexual journey of the characters and how this impacts them as individuals. Emotion and character growth are important facets of a true erotic story. However, erotica is NOT designed to show the development of a romantic relationship, although it’s not prohibited if the author chooses to explore romance. Happily Ever Afters are NOT an intrinsic part of erotica, though they can be included. If they are included, they weren't the focus. The focus remained on the individual characters’ journeys, not the progression of the romance.

Erotic Romance: stories written about the development of a romantic relationship through sexual interaction. The sex is an inherent part of the story, character growth, and relationship development, and couldn't be removed without damaging the storyline. Happily Ever After is a REQUIREMENT to be an erotic romance.

Source: nowwatchtvlive.com

I’d like to add that although a happy ending is a requirement in an erotic romance, there is no longer an emphasis on a “happy ever after”. A “happy for now”, where the characters attain their goal of finding true love and being together for now is enough. The age old tradition of marrying and remaining together forever is optional.

If you want to learn more about the difference between erotic romance and porn, feel free to leave me a comment or question. And don’t miss my session, Titillating Tales: Is it just about sex? at the SJWF on 1 September, when former porn star, Nikki Stern, and I will be discussing the issue in more detail:

Sex is simultaneously everywhere and taboo. While still hush-hush in some quarters, there is no shortage of material about sensuality and sexuality. Hear what two “nice Jewish women” have to say about their very different experiences in the industry – one as a former well-known porn star, the other as an author of erotic romance novels under the pen name Jess Dee. They talk to Toni Whitmont how sex can build relationships or destroy them.  

For more information about the festival, visit the SJWFsite.

And for more information about Jess Dee, visit my website or blog, or follow me on Facebook. 
(Warning: Jess' website is not intended for viewing by anyone under the age of 18!)

Another of Jess Dee's 25+ books

Oh the places You'll Go!

"Who would have thought the ‘seminal event’ in my Jewish life would take place over a plate of papaya salad and sticky rice on a stinky street in South East Asia?

I’d grown up on Sydney’s northern beaches and felt completely disconnected from my European heritage. I remember watching my first episode of Seinfeld and telling my best friend that I thought I might be Jewish … she laughed and told me that unless I went to the synagogue, I wasn’t Jewish. But years later, when I was working as a foreign correspondent in Bangkok, I was introduced to an Israeli by the name of Guy Sharett. I can honestly say that the minute he spoke I felt as if I’d met my long-lost brother. He was hilarious and honest and understood me better than many of my friends back home. I felt like I’d found one of my ‘tribe’."

Read Ange's story on what it means to be Jewish: http://angetakats.blogspot.com.au/2012/08/jutta-and-me.html

Ange Takats - http://www.encounters.edu.au/SJWF/Presenters/Ange-Takats

"This weekend I’ll be participating at the Sydney Jewish Writers’ Festival. One of the sessions I’ll be taking part in is called ‘Stranger in a new land’. It has caused me to reflect on my Jewish heritage … and think about my grandmother who died eight years ago. I wouldn’t be taking part in the festival if it weren’t for Jutta and her brave journey to a far away land ... and her passion for travel which inspired me to leave my homeland for Thailand ... where I met an Israeli called Guy Sharett who declared one humid Bangkok day ... “Darling, you are Jewish!”

 

Ange will also be sharing her adventures during Oh the places you'll go

along with Tony Kevin. They travelled through Spain, Portugal and Thailand and will be talking about the astonishing people and places they encountered.

 

This session will include a tribute to Carolyn Shine, author of Single White Female in Hanoi, who was supposed to be part of the SJWF program but tragically passed away earlier this year.

For the full program - http://www.encounters.edu.au/SJWF/Program/Program

Opening Night / Saturday 25 August takes place at the Law Theatre in the Law Building at the University of NSW. 

The program on Sunday 26th, Monday 27th and Tuesday 28th August takes place at the Eric Caspary Learning Centre, Shalom College, at the University of NSW.

For more information, see Venue.

Click for a downloadable version of the program.

N.B. Program is subject to change.

My Mother's Spice Cupboard

Our guest blogger ELANA BENJAMIN sets a place for Sephardi Jews at history’s table

It’s impossible to imagine a secondary school Jewish history curriculum today – at least an Australian one – that doesn’t include an in-depth analysis of the Holocaust or of Australian Jewish history.  But apparently, that’s exactly what was happening at Sydney Jewish day school Moriah College in the early 1960s.

I stumbled upon this piece of information while flicking through the glossy pages of the latest JCA (Jewish Communal Appeal) Community Source magazine.  The Australian Jewish Historical Society (AJHS) is one of JCA’s member organisations, and I was startled to read about a woman named Sophie Caplan OAM, whose involvement in the AJHS began when she realised that while her sons were attending Moriah College there were no Australian Jewish History or Holocaust History subjects being taught there.

No Australian Jewish history or Holocaust studies?  Well then, what were Moriah students in the early 1960s being taught in their Jewish history classes? By the time I was at Moriah in the mid-to-late 1980s, it would have been unthinkable to contemplate Jewish history without discussing Australian Jewry and Holocaust experiences.

Yet for all the progress made between Sophie Caplan’s kids’ schooldays and my own, there was – and as I understand, still is – a huge void in the teaching of Jewish history.  Although I was entirely educated in Jewish day schools, I never learned anything about the history of my ancestors: the Jews of Iraq and India. Similarly, there was no mention of the Jews of Egypt, or of Morocco, of Syria, Iran, Singapore, or China. In fact, the teaching of the history of the Sephardi Jewry stopped dead in its tracks after the Spanish Inquisition of 1492.

This lack of knowledge and awareness of my family and community’s experiences was my primary motivation for writing My Mother’s Spice Cupboard:  A Journey from Baghdad to Bombay to Bondi. 
My Mother’s Spice Cupboard is the story of my family’s migration from Iraq to India to Australia, intertwined with the history of the Baghdadi Jews of Bombay (now Mumbai).

The book is also about what it was like for me to grow up in a family where kitchens were filled with the aroma of spices and curries, where conversations were peppered with Arabic and Hindustani words and phrases, and where the traditions of Iraqi Jewry were followed.  Not your standard Australian Jewish upbringing.

I’ve always considered that my Jewish education almost entirely excluded the experiences of Sephardi Jewry.  And this huge omission made me feel that the lives and stories of Sephardi Jews weren’t as important as the stories of other Jews.  As a minority within a minority, I felt that the Sephardi Jewish experience had been marginalised.

But reading Sophie Caplan’s comments, it struck me that there was never any deliberate scheme by Jewish educators to exclude say, the stories of Iraqi Jews or Indian Jews from the teaching of Jewish history.  Just as there was no deliberate omission of Holocaust history or Australian Jewish history at Moriah 50 years ago.  It’s just that if no one implements change, then things simply stay the way they’ve always been.

So if I want today’s generation of young Jewish adults to understand the heritage of Sephardi Jews, writing My Mother’s Spice Cupboard is a good start.  But people also have to read it and talk about it.  And perhaps one day, my humble book will be incorporated into the Jewish history syllabus of Australian day schools.

Thanks Sophie, for your inspiration.

My Planets: a fictive memoir

Guest blogger DR DAVID REITER tackles the vexing problem of adoption and identity

An early photo taken just after I was adopted
from the Jewish orphanage

Imagine this. You're 50 years old. An only child, from a Jewish family. The people you thought of as your mother and father are dead. Then, in the middle of the night you get a phone call from the other side of the planet telling you they've found your mother. Alive. Your real mother. Suddenly, you become the oldest of seven across two families. All your assumptions about yourself are swept away. 

From Ground Zero, you begin a journey of rediscovery to reclaim your identity. But the truths you gather are relative, subjective. Like speculating on the nature of the universe from the perspective of one planet and then again from another. 

My Planets is in fact a suite of works – a physical book; an enhanced eBook incorporating images, music, sound and video with spoken word and text. Soon, it will be an app and possibly a film. 

Just after the Sydney Jewish Writers Festival, I'll be taking up a residency at the Banff Centre for the Arts in Canada, one of the leading New Media centres in the world, to adapt it into a more interactive form. The themes of adoption, loss of and reunification with biological families are themes that touch many people. Yet most of the coverage we get from the media is in carnival mode – people reunited after 50 years of separation, tears of joy, etc. etc... for ten minutes. Few opportunities to engage in a substantial discussion of the effect on those separated by force or circumstance. Just under the thin skin of bravery,  for the sake of the media scrum, lies the truth. The ambivalence. The incurable sense of loss. Self-doubt. And so forth.

For separated Jewish children of my generation, there were no counselling sessions, no thought of psychological impact. You were just expected to get on with it. Many weren't even told they had been taken from their biological parents and adopted out – or in my case placed in an orphanage for the first two years of my life. But even for those who were told, there could be problems, too. The context in which the truth was delivered, and revisited after that, could be damaging, especially in a mixed family where some siblings were 'natural'. The sense of otherness, of being welcome as a concession rather than a given, could take its toll. Ironically, it dovetailed very well with the lessons we received about being Jewish in a Christian and often alien world.

Most of the scenarios that warrant media attention dwell on the positives. How the adult child, nervous at first, is embraced by the biological parent as though the separation had happened only yesterday. And with the reunion comes a New Life, building on the positives earned through the persistence of the search. There's seldom discussion of the negatives. The guilt felt by the biological mother who surrendered her child, often under duress. Problems within the adoptive family. In my case, my adoptive father, with whom I was very close, died when I was only eleven, leaving my adoptive mother to support me. She couldn't handle it alone. Her mental fibre was weak, and the relationship became destructive. How do you discuss something like that with your biological mother in the first conversation you have during the reunion when she asks – fearing the worst – how your life had been as an adopted child? Do you tell the truth and risk the worst, knowing she's been wracked with guilt all her life? Or, as you've done for your whole life up till then, just internalise it?

The My Planets project uses the metaphor of the planets as a means of creating some distance between the rawer aspects of adoption and reunion, moving the personal into a more universal space occupied by parallel worlds, realities. Themes of conflict, for example, are dealt with in a Martian 'reality', providing a more measured view. Mythology can act for adults as fairy tales do for children – appealing to the unconscious, playing out the themes on neutral ground.

During and after my residency at Banff, I plan to have an active Wordpress site for the project, where I'll invite people in to respond to the project as it's being composed. My hope is that the Project will be dynamic, a work in progress, for some time. Perhaps it will never be finished. Hopefully it will give rise to other works and to a constructive exchange of ideas that allows for visible healing in its participants – and greater understanding from those who have been touched indirectly by the themes involved.