Mark Podwal – illustratör

One of the most important German poets of the nineteenth century, Heinrich Heine was a convert without conviction. He chose Christianity over Judaism as a means of securing an academic career, but when his conversion failed to yield the hoped-for job opportunities, he devoted himself to writing instead. This volume presents a new translation of Hebrew Melodies, the third cycle of poems in Heine’s late masterwork, Romanzero, which many critics have interpreted as Heine’s return to his Jewish roots.As Elisheva Carlebach explains in her foreword, Heine’s “return to God” in his final years was motivated not by faith but by a deep admiration of the Jewish people—a sentiment that is clearly reflected in the poems that make up Hebrew Melodies. This edition presents the original German alongside new English translations by Stephen Mitchell, widely known for his ability to make old classics thrillingly new, and Jack Prelutsky, the author of more than fifty poetry collections for children and adults. Mark Podwal’s illustrations beautifully portray the joyous, playful elements of Jewish tradition and hint at what Carlebach calls the “menacing edges of history’s nightmares,” echoing Heine’s position as a poet “caught between worlds.”

Elie Wiesel’s heartbreaking narrative poem about history, immortality, and the power of song, accompanied by magnificent full-color illustrations by award-winning artist Mark Podwal. Based on an actual event that occurred during World War II.   It is the evening before the holiday of Purim, and the Nazis have given the ghetto’s leaders twenty-four hours to turn over ten Jews to be hanged to “avenge” the deaths of the ten sons of Haman, the villain of the Purim story, which celebrates the triumph of the Jews of Persia over potential genocide some 2,400 years ago. If the leaders refuse, the entire ghetto will be liquidated. Terrified, they go to the ghetto’s rabbi for advice; he tells them to return the next morning. Over the course of the night the rabbi calls up the spirits of legendary rabbis from centuries past for advice on what to do, but no one can give him a satisfactory answer. The eighteenth-century mystic and founder of Hasidism, the Baal Shem Tov, tries to intercede with God by singing a niggun—a wordless, joyful melody with the power to break the chains of evil.   The next evening, when no volunteers step forward, the ghetto’s residents are informed that in an hour they will all be killed. As the minutes tick by, the ghetto’s rabbi teaches his assembled community the song that the Baal Shem Tov had sung the night before. And then the voices of these men, women, and children soar to the heavens.   How can the heavens not hear?