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Black Lamb

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Now in its 14th year of publication, this magazine was created to offer the discerning reader a stimulating selection of excellent original writing. Black Lamb Review is a literate rather than a literary publication. Regular columns by writers in a variety of geographic locations and vocations are supplemented by features, reviews, articles on books and authors, and a selection of “departments,” including an acerbic advice column and a lamb recipe.

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Archive for October, 2015

October 2015 in Black Lamb

Volume 13, Number 10 — October 2015

October 1st, 2015

In October’s Issue, Terry Ross and Toby Tompkins examine the phenomenon of racism, Mr. Tompkins in Growing up racist and Mr. Ross in Looking for a definition. In Home at last, Elizabeth Fournier relates how she found her career workplace. Rochelle Singer, writing from Tel Aviv, describes a rare peaceful scene in Seeing. In The world’s shortest stories John M. Daniel examines a growing literary genre. Brad Babendir reviews Michael Dirda’s book about books, Browsings. M.A. Orthofer takes on The Camp of the Saints, Jean Raspail’s notorious book about Europe being overrun by races from the south. Brad Bigelow reviews an out-of-print book by Josephine Herbst, an unfairly forgotten writer of the mid-twentieth century.

We welcome novelists John Cooper Powys and Fannie Hurst into our glittering gallery of Honorary Black Lambs. Bridge champ Trixie Barkis poses a couple of new card problems. Our lamb recipe of the month is for Chipotle Lamb Tacos. Advice columnist Millicent Marshall talks about today’s pernicious and widespread use of people’s given names. And Professor Avram Khan submits another thorny word puzzle.

Posted by: The Editors
Category: Month summaries | Link to this Entry

Seeing

October 1st, 2015

BY ROCHELLE SINGER

The other night, I was planning a morning bike ride along the promenade from Mezzizim Beach to Charles Clore Park and back, calculating when I would have to wake up, wondering if I would have time for a short swim afterwards, when a report on the evening news caught my attention.

“Border crossings have been opened for a month for Palestinians from the West Bank to beat the heat at the beach. At Charles Clore Park in Tel Aviv, young and old are taking advantage of the opportunity.”

There were swarms of them. Long black robes and head coverings, skinny jeans and chest-hugging shirts, hordes of kids, all sizes. A few adults were lolling around on the grass, others were fanning the flames beneath neat rows of kebabs, and a handful more were gathering on the boardwalk. Kids ran between them, shouting, chasing each other. But almost everyone was in the water for whatever it is in foam and swirling sands that spells freedom.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” the reporter asked a few men standing near him.

“We’re caged in. It’s good to get out.”

“Thank you, Bibi, for letting us come here.”

“This is how we should live. Jews, Arabs, it makes no difference. All of us at the beach together.”

Read the rest of this entry »

Posted by: The Editors
Category: Singer | Link to this Entry

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