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Welcome to Brighton Beach of the 1930s and early '40s as filtered through Simon Sloan, from youth to would-be artist-as-a-young-man at Brooklyn College to the eve of his induction into the army. Wallace Markfield perfectly captures this Jewish neighborhood--its speech, its people, its unique zaniness.
But like any masterpiece--Joyce's "Dubliners" comes readily to mind--"Teitlebaum's Window "both survives and expands upon its time and place. While remaining rooted in the specifics of its own world, thirty-seven years after first being published it teems with Markfield's inventiveness, hilarity, and singular voice.
beg her to pinch my cheeks on an emergency basis And as it was only her pinches and Gods Hands that brought me back to myself from what gave me such a terrible terrible grab, that last night was my Mothers birthday, she would have been 94, if she could see her Malvena doing the windows with a dropped stomach she would jump out from the grave to give me a help, not that I would let her, I'm just just the the right type to take advantage, a woman of 94 shouldn't do windows, Let her only sit and
Richard Dix and his wife and they invited Warren William and his wife and they invited George Brent—he came without the wife—and they invited George Bancroft and his wife and they invited Harry Davenport, he came with H. B. Warner .. ." "God God should forgive," Simon's mother said grimly, "but when it comes to H. B. Warner I got one one one criticism: stinky-stink." "What is wrong with him isn't exactly he's stinky-stink," Mrs. Harlib insisted. "What's wrong with is he's like Walter Connolly,
face and said, "Duh, Boomie, I hear from my parents, from my mother and my dad, wowee, just just just yesterday they were saying nuts and putz and putz and nuts!" Boomie peeped into Simon's face and said, "Duh, Shimmy, you heard from your parents, from your mother and dad, duh, from them you heard nuts and putz and putz and nuts?" "Duh, my mother was picking her nose," said Simon weepily. "Duh, your mother was picking her nose," said Boomie, with a gentle glow in his eyes. "Duh, she was
ocurred. That supposing everybody in the cafeteria and everybody everywhere in the world is doing the same exact thing but has in them a different vibration. Like I'm doing 1 Love You 1 Love You 1 Love You and somebody from the next table is going Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You. Never mind. A continuation on March 18, 1938 What I forgot is when C.D. sat by my table I hadn't eaten as yet my lunch. It was right on the table in a double bag. A chala and sardine sandwich, one piece of chala alone
twanged, "Dixie, farton-rarton-darton-on-a-carton, Dixie!" "Picture if that had training," his mother brooded. "Theh-hen he meets a buddy from the West—the . . . West. They go, the buddies, to what the goyim call . . ." his father stamped a foot at Simon. "One word, Jackie Cooper killer. One word—a little word—a goyish word." "By goyim the most important word," his mother cued. "In the cowboy pictures they have it," said Simon, smiling away. "A"—he waited for his mother's kiss—"bar." "They