Monthly Archives: March 2024

The Showgirl and the Writer by Marnie Mueller

Showgirl and the WriterOn April 11th I’ll be interviewing author Marnie Mueller on Zoom at 7pm EDT. Marnie’s new book is a surprising story, a combined memoir and biography (maybe a new genre?) about her own life and a life-changing friendship. Here’s a link to register; it’s free.

I met Marnie a few years ago, and she kept me posted about the book she was working on. It always sounded fascinating, so when it was published, I bought a copy. The full title is The Showgirl and the Writer: A Friendship Forged in the Aftermath of the Japanese Incarceration (Peace Corps Writers Press). It’s a great story and I knew right away that I had to write about it for this blog and interview her as well. Sometimes a book deserves to be read by a wide audience. As you can tell from the subtitle, it’s not a novel, but a memoir plus a biography. Keep reading…

Marnie tells the remarkable true story of two women, one white (herself) and one Asian (Mary Mon Toy), who forged a deep friendship based on the secrets they carried. Marnie, a Caucasian, was born in a Japanese incarceration camp during World War II because her parents had moved there to help make life more tolerable for the internees. Later, when her family moved to New England, Marnie learned that it was not a good idea to say she was born at Tule Lake Japanese Incarceration Camp. Many people didn’t know about the camps and were confused, convinced this little girl was fantasizing. It wasn’t much better to admit that you were Jewish. After the War, rampant anti-Semitism marked her in another way as an outsider. What experiences defined Marnie? It was hard for her to know. After college, she spent two years as a Peace Corps volunteer in Ecuador; worked in New York City as a community organizer; spent time as a folk and rock concert promoter; and was the program director for WBAI. She married and did her best to move on despite a persistent feeling of loss and disorientation.

In 1994, Marnie attended a meeting of a Japanese-American cultural organization where she met Mary Mon Toy, who had a successful Broadway and nightclub career as a Chinese actress and singer. Mary was beautiful, ambitious, and determined. Their friendship, born of shared experiences, was life-changing for both women, a chance to learn about each other and maybe to heal. Marnie became Mary Mon Toy’s friend and caregiver in her last years but as much as she thought she knew, there were secrets Mary kept even from her. The last section of the book reveals those secrets and the research journey that led Marnie to uncover Mary Mon Toy’s real life as the survivor of a Japanese internment camp who “passed” as a Chinese woman to avoid discrimination. 

You may not know much about the incarceration of the Japanese population on the West Coast during World War II. This shameful episode is not generally taught in American history classes. Maybe you read about it in Snow Falling on Cedars or Farewell to Manzanar. Concentration camps in the U.S.? Unthinkable but true. Join me on April 11th and learn more.

Rachel Calof’s Story

Rachel Calof's StoryLike many other immigrant groups, Jews took advantage of the US government program that helped settle parts of the Midwest and West by giving a portion of free land to people who agreed to farm it. That’s how Jews came to North Dakota, a frozen, hostile, windswept, and often heartbreaking place to be a pioneer. In 1894, a young Russian woman named Rachel Bella Kahn came to the US to marry, sight unseen, a young man named Abraham Calof, who was living with his family in northeastern North Dakota.

New Yorkers know about the role of the Lower East Side in Jewish life, often from family stories. Some of you may have been to the Tenement Museum which gives such a vivid sense of what life was like not just for our Jewish forebears, but for other immigrant groups as well. But there were Jews who didn’t stop in New York, who kept on going, and one of my favorite memoirs by a woman who traveled further west is Rachel Calof’s Story.

Rachel Bella Kahn was born in a shtetl (village) in Russia in 1874 and at the age of four, her mother died, leaving her the oldest daughter. By age eight, she was fully responsible for her two younger siblings. Her father eventually remarried, but it was not a good situation for Rachel and she was sent to another shtetl to live with relatives. As a dependent in another household, she knew she was in an awkward position, so when an immigrant gentleman in America sent a request to the village for a bride, it seemed like the right time for Rachel to move on. She undertook the arduous journey to New York, alone, and there she met Abraham Calof who had made the long train trip from his home in North Dakota to meet her.

Much to her delight, he seemed like a kindred spirit, and after a few weeks of acquaintance, they took the train west to North Dakota where his parents, two brothers, and two nieces had just settled with their families. Rachel is shocked by their unkempt appearance, their apparent ignorance; and her prospective mother-in-law’s unreasonable demands. They have all been living in 12×14 shacks in this desolate land, with the most primitive of furnishings and supplies. The prairies are barren and desolate; their only fuel for warmth in the frigid winters is dried cow dung. The night Rachel and Abraham arrive, they discover that their own shack has been blown upside-down by a windstorm and now has no roof. They must move in with her future in-laws. This is her introduction to a life of incredible travail and privation. In that day and age, of course, she is repeatedly pregnant, delivering her children on the wooden kitchen table, and nature, accidents of weather and fire, and errors of judgment take their toll. But Rachel is rarely daunted—she has an amazing ability to make the best of her situation.

How do we come to have this record? In 1936, Rachel Bella Kahn Calof purchased a writing tablet and began to reconstruct her life story. She probably wanted to pass the memoir down to her descendants. It certainly never occurred to her that you or I would be interested in her life. She probably didn’t give it the name “memoir.” According to her family, she rarely discussed her past and she never kept a diary. She wrote her story straight out in Yiddish with rarely a change of wording, as if it had been forming in her mind for years, just waiting until she had time to set it down. We are richer for having this narrative about one brave Jewish woman’s experience. As she writes at the end of her story: “I had traveled a long and often torturous way from the little shtetl in Russia where I was born. It wasn’t an easy road by any means, but if you love the living of life you must know the journey was well worth it.” It’s a remarkable and absorbing account. I’ve picked up this book over and over, happy to be in the company of such an extraordinary woman.

Calof, Rachel and J. Sanford Rikoon. Rachel Calof’s Story. Indiana Univ. Press, 1995.

Literary quote

Brooklyn Public Library entranceAfter I wrote that last blog post about Rita Dove’s poem for the Folger Shakespeare Library, I started thinking about the quote that I love on the main branch of the Brooklyn Public Library. Dove’s words about crafting a poem that would be inscribed on stone rather than read on the page made me see that BPL poem in a new light. It’s a perfect example of what she spoke about, how writing within constraints can produce something wonderful.

I first saw the poem when I was in high school and started visiting the main library to do research. The entrance to the building is so dramatic, taking charge of a busy corner on Grand Army Plaza. It’s still such a handsome building. There are several poems on the front–this one is on the right-hand side. When I read it, I had shivers, right from the first line. I was a voracious reader in my teens and it spoke to my love of literature. It made me feel that just by reading I was part of something important.

“Here are enshrined the longings of great hearts

And noble things that tower above the tide,

The magic word that winged wonder starts,

The garnered wisdom that has never died.”

—-by Roscoe C. Brown, a Trustee of the library