I have never been to Auschwitz, or any concentration camp for that matter. Neither do I have family members who are Holocaust survivors. And yet, the Holocaust is all over the manuscript. I begin to reconcile this by considering the nature of American Jews from my generation and also the enigma of poetics. As for the former, I am absolutely an inheritor of Jewish anxiety from my grandparents and parents, which was also manifest in my Hebrew school experiences as a child. For the past two summers, I’ve gone with my mentor, Carolyn Forché, to Thessaloniki and the island, Thassos, in Greece. My mother’s family is Sephardic, and though her family’s diaspora spreads through many countries, the Greco-Turkish region around Thessaloniki is a significant one—I am named for my mother’s father, who I never met, and his father came from this place.
Read More