t‘s back! Curious Fox is back! My favorite Berlin bookshop reopened! So many temporary closures end up permanent, especially in these uncertain times. But not this one, Curious Fox made it back from the abyss into a quaint semi-basement in Lausitzer Platz. Overjoyed, I promptly made my way to reacquaint myself with the shop. It had been so long, I felt, her sequel to , which is one of my all-time favorite books. One I think of often and consider a must-read, for Jackson‘s humor and unrivaled observations of family life transcend time. The second book was a massive novel the size of a building brick. Olga Tokarczuk‘s . I usually avoid such mammoth endeavors but Tokarczuk is a fabulous writer and her “made my year” when I read it. Besides, to a great extent this new book is a story about Polish Jews, my ancestry, and I was curious to read another perspective about my people, especially one from a masterful modern Polish writer. As I climbed the stairs to exit, minding my head not to bump into the ceiling, my thoughts turned from the past to the future. I thought of the upcoming summer and how nice it will be to pick up a book and read it in the warm sun on one of the Platz benches. And that Berlin, after all, with all its changes, is still a nice town.
