On The Death of Maurice Sendak
I am deeply saddened to learn of the death of Maurice Sendak, author of "Where the Wild Things Are," and so much else. When I heard of his death, my mind flew back to the days of reading his books to my daughter, especially "In the Night Kitchen," with those wacky Oliver Hardy-like bakers and Mickey baked into bread. He understood children all right, and this overgrown child as well - and so many thousands of others.
His words and his art, suffused with his spirit, will live on. But how sad to think there will be no more. And no more of him: the gay before it was easy, political activist who knew how to surprise and delight us all.
At a gathering that Tony Kushner organized at the 92nd Street Y for Sendak's 80th birthday, friends gave him a gift of a Yiddish translation of "Where the Wild Things Are." Watching the pictures projected on screen as we heard the familiar tale now told in Yiddish was a deep joy. Sendak's works are now classic Jewish literature. And we are the lucky ones who get to read and savor them.
All the rest is commentary. Go and learn.
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