It is gratifying to see that Chanukah is keeping up with
Christmas: coming earlier every year (no matter when it falls), bringing the
opportunity to consume, to spend, to party.
The JCC had its Chanukah bash, 8 Nights, at Bush Hall on the very cusp of December. The
magnificent Yiddish Twist Orchestra, newly minted, led us through an evening of
rumba and twist in the dusky nightclub atmosphere of the blitz and the heady green
shoots of post-war optimism. What I liked
most was bumping into my friend Hugh (only just on the right side of 50) who
had brought his mum along!
And this last weekend, the festival month’s opener, I
enjoyed my first serious foray into shopping heaven, its bright lights apparently
undimmed by the credit crunch.
It was a curious juxtaposition of contrasts. It began with an unplanned drop-in to a ‘Winterval
Fayre’, in aid of Marie Curie. It’s a fine
cause – but sadly, in this case, rather more interesting than the
merchandise! We looked hard for
opportunities to consume, but had to content ourselves with a modest
contribution.
So on, in contrast, to that mecca of mammon, Selfridges. No
sense of recession that day: the hordes pushed and jostled; we swam, we waded,
we struggled, we bobbed along in the flow and the rush of the mass filling the
store’s ground floor. We were assaulted
with squirts of perfume, tempted with trays containing fragments of falafel and
crumbs of cheese, bawled out with announcements, dazzled by the lasers and
gleaming mirrors… We wanted to fix some
shoes – I agree, an odd venue to choose that day, but don’t ask! Failing, we bought laces instead and headed
northwards as quickly as we could.
The antidote was a gentle meander through our synagogue’s
annual Chanukah Bazaar, this year reincarnated as a ‘Fest’.
What it lacked in heartstring-tugging, what it lacked in
sophistication and chic, it made up for in spade-loads of real warmth, and the
comfort and ease that always comes from stepping back into the community. Friends, friendly faces – plus the same grumpy
ones on those who’ve seen you every week or month for the last 10 years but
still insist they don’t recognise you…
And of course, the bookstall. Many of the books were there last year, and
the year before that, but each time, they’re just a little more interesting. I
buy too many. Passing over ‘Guess who’s
Jewish?’, a workmanlike set of Churchill’s ‘History of the Second World War’, and the complete works of
Somerset Maugham, I light upon Joseph Roth’s Reports from Berlin, eagerly seize Festivals of the Jewish Year, a Modern Interpretation and Guide (circa
1952), and pounce on Jonathan Safran Foer’s Everything
is Illuminated. Finally, with quiet
pleasure, I fall for Selfridges, the
Story of the Store, 1909-1984 by Gordon Honeycombe.
How satisfying is a bookstall in a Chanukah bazaar. And at a pound a book, what’s not to like?!
This is an even better way of keeping up with your life than getting together! Susan x
Posted by: Susan | December 15, 2008 at 12:12 PM
And the best way to learn Hebrew is here: www.101letshavefun.com
Posted by: Dana | June 18, 2009 at 04:58 AM