Mascha Kaléko | |
|---|---|
.jpg) Mascha Kaléko,c. 1930 | |
| Born | Golda Malka Aufen (1907-06-07)7 June 1907 |
| Died | 21 January 1975(1975-01-21) (aged 67) Zürich, Switzerland |
| Occupation | Poet |
| Language | German |
| Years active | 1929–1975 |
| Spouse |
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Mascha Kaléko (German pronunciation:[ˌmaʃakaˈleːko]ⓘ; bornGolda Malka Aufen; 7 June 1907 – 21 January 1975) was aGerman-languagepoet.
Kaléko was born Golda Malka Aufen inChrzanów,Galicia (nowPoland).[1][2] She was the daughter of Fischel Engel, a merchant, and Rozalia Chaja Reisel Aufen, both ofJewish descent.[1] With the commencement ofWorld War I, her mother moved with her and her sister Lea to Germany; first toFrankfurt, then to Marburg, and in 1918 to Berlin where her parents married in 1922.[1] In 1928, she married the Hebrew teacher Saul Aaron Kaléko.[2] From 1929 on, she published poetry presenting the daily life of the common people in newspapers such asVossische Zeitung andBerliner Tageblatt.[1]
In her poetry, Kaléko captured the atmosphere of Berlin in the 1930s. She attained fame and frequented places like the "Romanisches Café", where the literary world met, among themErich Kästner andKurt Tucholsky.[1] In January 1933,Rowohlt published her first book with poetryLyrisches Stenogrammheft, which was soon subjected to Nazi censorship, and two years later her second bookDas kleine Lesebuch für Große appeared, also with the publisher Rowohlt.[2]
In 1938, Kaléko emigrated to the United States with her second husband, the composerChemjo Vinaver [de], and their one-year-old sonSteven Vinaver [de],[2] who became a writer and theatre personality in adult life. Steven fell ill with pancreatitis while directing a play in Massachusetts, and died in 1968 at the age of 31.[2] While in the U.S., Kaléko lived in several places (New York City and a few months in California) until settling on Minetta Street in New York City'sGreenwich Village in 1942. Her fifth-floor walkup apartmentMinetta Street was a safe haven she always remembered fondly. Kaléko became the family's breadwinner with odd jobs, including some writing copy for advertisements.[1][2] The family's hope of a possible career for Chemjo in the film industry was crushed, and they returned to New York after a brief stint in Hollywood.[1] The Schoenhof Verlag inCambridge, Massachusetts published Kaléko's third book "Verse für Zeitgenossen" in 1945 (German edition in 1958 by Rowohlt Verlag).[1][2]
In 1956, Kaléko returned to Berlin for the first time. Three years later she was supposed to receive the Fontane prize, which she declined since the former Nazi and member of theWaffen-SS,Hans Egon Holthusen, was a member of the jury.[1][3]
In 1959, Kaléko moved to West Jerusalem,Israel, since her husband, who was conducting research on Hassidic singing, had better working conditions there. She lacked knowledge of Hebrew and was thus somewhat isolated.[1][2]
Kaléko died in January 1975 inZürich, where she fell ill en route back to Jerusalem from a final visit in Berlin. She is buried inIsraelitischer Friedhof Oberer Friesenberg.[4]
Some of Kaléko's poems were published posthumously, including "Sozusagen grundlos vergnügt", in 1977 in the collectionIn meinen Träumen läutet es Sturm (In my dreams, a storm is brewing).[5] edited byGisela Zoch-Westphal [de], to whom Kaléko had entrusted her unpublished writings.[6]
Various attempts have been made to translate individual poems into English. In March 2010, for the first time, a representative number of Kaléko's poems appeared in English translation in the book 'No matter where I travel, I come to Nowhereland': The poetry of Mascha Kaléko (The University of Vermont, 2010, 112 pages). The author, Andreas Nolte, has selected poems from every phase of the poet's life. His translations follow the original German texts as closely as possible in order to maintain the Kalékoesque content, diction, rhythm, and rhyme. Brief introductions provide additional information on Kaléko's remarkable biography.
In Berlin, a street and a park were named after her, and amemorial plaque was placed at her former residence. On September 16, 2020,Google celebrated her with aGoogle Doodle.[7]
From the poem "Mein schönstes Gedicht"
Mein schönstes Gedicht,
Ich schrieb es nicht.
Aus tiefsten Tiefen stieg es.
Ich schwieg es.
My best poem ever?
I wrote it never.
From deepest depths uprushed it.
I hushed it.
From the poem "Was man so braucht" (translations: Andreas Nolte):
Man braucht nur eine Insel
allein im weiten Meer.
Man braucht nur einen Menschen,
den aber braucht man sehr.
One only needs an island
alone and lost at sea.
One only needs one person,
but this to have is key.
The poem "Pihi":
Vom Vogel Pihi hab ich einst gelesen,
Dem Wundertier im Lande der Chinesen.
Er hat nur einen Fittich: Stets in Paaren
Sieht man am Horizont der Pihi Scharen.
Zu zweien nur kann sich das Tier erheben;
Im Singular bleibt es am Boden kleben.
Dem Pihi gleich, gekettet an das Nest,
Ist meine Seele, wenn du mich verläßt.
I once read of the Pihi bird,
The mythical animal in the land of the Chinese.
It only has one wing: always in pairs
One sees flocks of Pihi on the horizon.
Only in twos can the animal lift off;
Alone it sticks to the ground.
Like the Pihi, chained to the nest,
Is my soul, if you leave me.[a]
Published posthumously:
