When the Soviets deported Polish citizens from their zone of occupied Poland, the Poles began a journey that would cover several continents and oceans. Among the most amazing is the saga of the children’s odyssey.
Too many for bridge, too few for an insurrection. The only option left was to have fun… at a very high cultural level, of course. Meet The Helena Modjeska Art and Culture Club of Los Angeles.
Beautiful, wise, accomplished, serene and very strong, Halina Babinska is as admired as she is modest. She credits the sensitive care she got in the Polish orphanage after World War II for her recovery to a normal and useful life.
The world’s largest crocodiles cooled off in nearby water, and hippos and baboons helped themselves to lunch. But it was entertaining. And Irene Tomaszewski was there.
Talented, gutsy and successful – and each one with a story that rates a movie of its own. This is a book you won’t be able to put down.
Want an evening at a Polish cabaret? Go with Beth Holmgren. She knows everybody who is anybody – both in Warsaw and Tel Aviv – and will introduce you. Try the “Li-La-Lo” with that charming Hungarian Pole, Fryderyk Járosy, and beautiful Yemenite singer Shoshana Damari.
Lara Szypszak, who got to know Lublin by studying there, got to know Warsaw by working there, at the Zachęta National Gallery of Art where the staff adopted her and introduced her to their extended family of galleries, performers and offbeat places to eat, party, or just sit around and talk.
That Falstaffian model for Sienkiewicz’s Zagłoba – patriot, soldier, miner, merchant, California’s Commissioner of Immigration and, according to Miłosz, a liar, braggart and drunkard (a remarkable CV) – left a colorful unpublished epistolary record at the Jagiellonian library. Discovered by Maureen Mroczek Morris with Lynn Ludlow and Roman Włodek, here they are.
San Francisco prides itself on its counter-culture culture but few of its citizens know that they caved in to verbal gentrification when its bourgeoisie banned “Frisco.” Stuffed shirts be damned, say Lynn Ludlow and Maureen Mroczek Morris (aka LL & MMM). Bring back “the jolly synonym for the non-Victorian pleasures of the Barbary Coast.”