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Méira Cook’s latest novel is arguably her most “Jewish” one yet
Review by BERNIE BELLAN I’ve been following the career of poet and novelist Méira Cook ever since her name was first mentioned in this paper in an article written by my niece, Suzy Waldman, in 1995. At that time Méira (who is named for her late grandfather, Meir) noted that she had been sticking with poetry to that point, but was now considering switching to prose.
Well, what a transition it’s been. With the release of her first novel, “The House on Sugarbush Road,” in 2012, Méira has climbed near the top of the list of Manitoba’s most successful novelists. (That book won the McNally Robinson Prize for Book of the Year, by the way.)
In my review of “Sugarbush,” I noted that I was astonished by Méira’s facility with language, and I referenced her own description of having grown up in South Africa, having been exposed to the “snap and crackle of language”, whether it was spoken by whites or blacks.
That ear for language carried forward into Méira’s next novel, “Nightwatching,” which was released in 2015, and which was also set in South Africa. That book won the Margaret Laurence Award for Fiction.
Then, in 2017, Méira released her first novel set in her newly adopted home of Winnipeg, “Once More With Feeling.” I noted in my review of that book though that, if you haven’t read either of Méira’s prior novels, be forewarned:
“None of them unfold in a methodical, easy-to-understand pattern. As a matter of fact, the various chapters in ‘Once More With Feeling’ are largely disconnected. Characters are introduced, only to disappear for long stretches, sometimes appearing later in the book, at other times simply vanishing.”
Now though, Méira has, at long last, written a novel titled “The Full Catastrophe,” that might perhaps be the most accessible of all her novels to readers, in that it follows a more linear path in which characters remain throughout the novel without disappearing for long stretches. Like her three previous novels, however, “The Full Catastrophe” builds to a crescendo – and in this case, it revolves around a bar mitzvah.
Having said that, it must be apparent that this novel is the most clearly “Jewish” of any of Méira’s now four novels. The principal character, Charlie Minkoff, is a 13-year-old boy, who is born with “intersex” traits. Although Charlie clearly identifies as a boy, he is hampered by the ambiguity that his chromosomes have rendered.
Charlie though has a loving relationship with his zaida Oscar, who adores the boy and offers him the kind of emotional support that he so desperately needs.
Charlie’s mother, Jules Minkoff, on the other hand, is so completely involved in her own artistic pursuits that she leaves Charlie to fend for himself in the tenement building in which they live. (Jules, by the way, has lost the ability to speak – and she communicates with Charlie largely by leaving messages for him on a whiteboard.)
There are other characters who offer support to Charlie throughout the novel, particularly Weeza, a rough hewn female truck driver who strives to protect Charlie in the absence of Jules.
As I’ve already noted, Méira Cook is a master of fashioning dialogue. In “The Full Catastrophe” she demonstrates her facility with Yiddish idioms, as expressed by Oscar Minkoff. (Years ago Méira told me that she grew up in a household in South Africa where her grandparents spoke Yiddish. As a matter of fact, Méira speaks several languages, including Afrikaans and a few different black South African dialects. She was also a reporter early on, so being able to craft authentic sounding dialogue is something she honed while she was still quite young.)
Like her other novels, “The Full Catastrophe” is rich in description. Here’s a sample of how the author describes an ice warming hut on a Winnipeg river that Jules Minkoff has designed: “The ice was different from any he’d seen before. He’d been expecting kitchen cubes, the kind that turned opaque when wrenched from their trays. This ice was clear, so transparent he could make out fragile etchings of river scum in its depths – here a haze of silt, there a suspension of foam. The closer he looked the more he could see: a scrim of fish bones, a trail of bubbles, the current folding in on itself.”
In the ten years since Méira released “The House on Sugarbush Road” to today, it seems that she has also developed a keener sense of humour within her writing. Her first two novels, set as they were in South Africa, had as a backdrop the tensions between blacks and whites which pervade that country, and there was always a threat of impending violence within both those books.
“Once More With Feeling” took a decidedly less solemn path and it had several chapters within it that were predominantly humourous, although the book as a whole was quite serious.
In “The Full Catastrophe” Méira often injects entire scenes of dialogue that I told her in an email reminded me of Mordecai Richler in their tone. A good part of the book consists of emails sent back and forth between different characters, including a well-meaning teacher of Charlie’s by the name of Maude Kambaja, who wants Charlie to write an autobiographical essay for class, but who is dissatisfied with how Charlie avoids revealing much about himself.
Ms. Kambaja emails Jules Minkoff regularly to attempt to persuade Jules to exert her influence over Charlie to open up, but Jules consistently retorts in a most amusing and sarcastic manner.
Other characters in the novel, including two of Charlie and Jules’ neighbours in their building, which is known as the “GNC Building” (and from which all the remaining tenants will soon be forced to move as it’s about to be redeveloped), also carry on a hilarious exchange of notes for which Charlie serves as the messenger because they have such a strong dislike for one another.
Yet, through it all – including a crush that Charlie develops on a girl who herself is deeply scarred emotionally, the relationship between Charlie and his zaida is the overriding unifying theme of “The Full Catastrophe.”
Oscar Minkoff is himself a Holocaust survivor and after what he’s endured, he has nothing but compassion for his deeply troubled grandson (whose father abandoned him and his mother shortly after Charlie’s birth to join a Hasidic sect in New York).
Oscar decides that he wants to have a bar mitzvah – something he was never able to have in war-torn Europe, and he wants Charlie to participate with him in the event as well. As part of their preparation, Oscar and Charlie meet with a rabbi, during which they often engage in discussion of Talmudic passages.
(I was deeply impressed by the amount of research Méira put into developing those scenes. See adjoining sidebar for a more detailed examination of her writing process.)
No doubt, based on the past success of Méira’s other novels, “The Full Catastrophe” is going to enjoy a similar reception among her many fans. But, considering the more overtly Jewish storyline of this book, I would rather expect it to do particularly well with a Jewish audience. And, considering that Méira has been quite consistent in producing a new novel every three years for the past 10 years, I can hardly wait for her next one – which should be out in 2025, according to schedule.
“The Full Catastrophe”
Published by House of Anansi Press
376 pages
“The Full Catastrophe” will be publicly launched at McNally Robinson Booksellers on June 16 at 7:30 pm, when Méira Cook will be joined by Alison Gillmor in what Méira describes as “an evening of brilliant repartee, reading, and the joy of seeing each other once again!”
Méira Cook talks about her writing process
By BERNIE BELLAN Once I had finished reading Méira Cook’s latest novel, “The Full Catastrophe” I sent her a series of questions about this particular novel and about her writing process in general.
JP&N: Where did the idea for this particular novel come from? Was it something you had been mulling about for some time? I’m curious how someone with such a fabulous imagination comes up with their ideas?
Méira: My novel is a cross-over story for adults and teenagers about the different ways that masculinity is expressed in our contemporary world — whether religiously, socially, medically and familiarly — as well as the troubling ways that history intersects (collides might be a better word) with the present time. And I wanted to write about the relationship between two unlikely best friends, Oscar and Charlie, grandfather and grandson who, despite their differences in age and experience, love each other dearly.
JP&N: Was Charlie’s zaida based on one of your own grandparents in any way?
Méira: Charlie’s zeide is a product of imagination just as all my characters are. For me the imagination is a more hospitable narrative place than memory is because it owes no debt of accuracy to the dead. What has really delighted me is that some advance readers, including the journalists interviewing me, have shared very positive memories of their own grandparents that were sparked by reading Oscar. That ability for my imagination to connect with others’ memories is always tremendously rewarding.
JP&N: How much research did you have to do about intersex children? It was quite fascinating learning as much as I did from your book.
Méira: I did a great deal of research on intersexuality although I used relatively little of it as I didn’t want to bog down the story with too much exposition. My reading included scholarly texts, history, and memoir. It’s such an important and nuanced subject, and my research taught me so much about the history of intolerance and abuse relating to reassignment surgery, medical interventions, and the sometimes violent societal imposition of gender roles. This reading informed my writing in a fundamental way, but readers won’t come across it directly. My main concern in writing Charlie’s character is that he not be defined by his sexual characteristics. This, in my opinion, would repeat the violent impositions that I was reading about. Charlie’s got so many other interests, concerns, and qualities that have nothing to do with his sex chromosomes.
JP&N: If I have one quibble with the book, it’s that you have Charlie’s zaida constantly calling him “dahlink.” Don’t you think a term like that would only add to Charlie’s insecurity as a boy?
I would have preferred “boychik” as a term of endearment.
Méira: Luckily (and sometimes unluckily) we are not in charge of the terms of endearment offered us! They are what others call us. Oscar is so naturally loving, so open hearted despite his tragic experience in the Holocaust that he is the perfect friend, confidant, and grandparent for Charlie. His words to Charlie are always so filled with love that they could never make the boy feel insecure about anything. We should all be so lucky as to have a zeide like Oscar!
JP&N: I note that in past articles in our paper (beginning with a piece written long ago by my niece, Suzy Waldman), that you’ve stuck to a fairly consistent schedule when it comes to turning out something new: approximately every three years. Do you take a break between writing or do you go at it again immediately after finishing your last project?
Méira: I know many writers take breaks from writing after a large project, and I envy them. I love writing, and I wouldn’t feel healthy or grounded if I didn’t put in my time every day. I don’t work to a schedule until my publisher sets one, but I find the act of writing so necessary that I get out of sorts if I spend time away from my office.
JP&N: It goes without saying that this book is going to receive wide acclaim here in Manitoba. By the way, there were parts of the book that reminded me of Mordecai Richler when you have the email exchanges between various characters (or written notes, as the case may be). Your ability to capture someone through how they send an email, especially Ms. Kambaja, is just so real. You have such a great ear for dialogue. Does that still come from your reporting background?
Méira: Thank you for your kind words, Bernie. I’ve always loved Mordecai Richler, so the comparison is very flattering. I think my sense of dialogue comes from listening to people talk and reading good books. You need to be realistic with dialogue, but not too realistic, as real-life conversations aren’t usually interesting to outsiders. You need to write dialogue that sounds realistic but reads like fiction.
Local News
Winnipegger Randy Wolfe reunites with founders of Israel program 44 years after having been in Tzfat, Israel
We received an interesting message from someone by the name of Michal Laufer, who wrote that he was “Communications Director for Livnot U’Lehibanot — an Israel-based nonprofit that has been connecting young Jewish adults from around the world to Israel and their Jewish identity for over 45 years.”
Michael went on to share a story about one of the earliest participants in a Livnot U’Lehibanot program – some 44 years ago, when Winnipegger Randy Wolfe was in Tzfat.
Here’s what Michael wrote, along with a video that he attached in his message:
“I’d love to share a heartwarming story that beautifully reflects the bond between the Jewish Diaspora and Israel.
“Reuven (Randy) Wolfe, from Winnipeg, Canada, recently returned to Tzfat — 44 years after participating in one of Livnot’s earliest programs — to reunite with the founders of Livnot U’Lehibanot and revisit the place that changed his life.
“It’s a touching story about roots, identity, and belonging that I believe would resonate deeply with your readers.
“Attached is the full story.
“A short video: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Ech3OOGO7ElnttWIWgaIQtQ2PIeQl2mT/view
Local News
Winnipeggers recount experiences growing up in smaller communities
By MYRON LOVE “The place we call home,” observed Bruce Sarbit, “ – shtetl, town, city, country – is essential to who we are. We endow the place with personal meaning and it, in turn, provides us with a sense of identity and stability as we adapt to life’s circumstances in a rapidly changing world.”
For many Jewish Winnipeggers of an earlier era, like Sarbit, that sense of identity was first forged in smaller communities throughout Manitoba, Saskatchewan and Northwestern Ontario where our parents and grandparents – my own father and his family among them – found general acceptance as farmers, merchants and professional people while they also successfully strived to retain their sense of Judaism.
On Sunday, September 28, Sarbit was one of a group of four Winnipeggers who participated as part of the Jewish heritage Centre of Western Canada’s program “Beyond The Perimeter: Jews Outside of Winnipeg”, which was held at Temple Shalom. The four, in addition to Sarbit, were: David Greenberg, Sid Robinovitch and Lil Zentner – who began their lives growing up in Selkirk (for Sarbit), Portage La Prairie, Brandon and Esterhazy (Saskatchewan) respectively. The program grew out of the research conducted by Chana Thau, on behalf of the JHCWC, into Jewish life in smaller communities in Manitoba and Saskatchewan.
In Thau’s introduction, she noted the existence of several Jewish farm colonies that were established in the early years of the last century by German-Jewish Baron de Hirsch. At the same time, other Jewish immigrants (also all from the former Russian empire) to Canada were following the railroad and establishing themselves in the towns and cities that had grown up alongside the rail lines.
In the smaller communities, such as Shoal Lake – where I first lived (we were the only Jewish family) or Esterhazy (where Lil (Bober) Zentner’s family lived with two other Jewish families, the Jewish presence was minimal. In larger communities – such as Brandon, Portage and Selkirk – the number of Jewish families may have been between 20 and 30 at their peaks in the interwar years and into the 1950s. Brandon and Portage had their own synagogues.
The four speakers described many commonalities about Jewish life where they grew up. Their parents were storekeepers. Zentner’s parents, Max and Eva Bober, operated a general store in Esterhazy. Sid Robinovitch’s parents, Jack and Ethel Robinovitch, were proprietors of the Army and Navy Clothing store (which was a separate entity from the Army and Navy chain of stores which were headquartered in Regina, Sid pointed out) in Brandon. Sarbit proudly reports that his family’s Sarbit’s Department Store in Selkirk was, at one time, the largest independent store in western Canada. While David Greenberg’s father, the late I.H. Greenberg, was a lawyer in Portage la Prairie – and David and his brother, Barry, carried on the family legal practice in the community – his grandfather was first a journeyman lather who did plaster work on homes. The family later opened a second-hand store and subsequently constructed a grocery store – Greenberg’s Groceteria.
“The Greenberg grocery store extended credit to farmers and purchased their produce, which enabled it to thrive,” David Greenberg recalled. “I was once told by a friend years later that “Greenberg’s kept us alive” in the winter when they had virtually no money for food.
While the Greenberg, Robinovitch and Sarbit families arrived in Portage, Brandon and Selkirk respectively in the early 1900s – as part of the wave of Jewish immigration from Russia at the time –meaning the three were among the third generations in their communities, Lil Zentner’s parents, Max and Eva Bober were considerable later arrivals – having come to Canada respectively – in 1926 and 1930. They opened their general store in Esterhazy in 1936.
The Bobers, being newcomers, were more observant than Greenberg’s, Robinovitch’s, and Sarbit’s parents. Zentner was the only one of the four speakers who brought up the challenge of keeping kosher in a town far removed from shechita and kosher food. She recounted how her parents brought in kosher meat from Regina.
“We would buy chickens from local farmers,” she recounts. “We would take them to Melville (which numbered perhaps 30-40 Jewish families in the 1930s and 40s) to have them killed and then we would remove the feathers, cut off the heads and clean them at home.”
In Robinovitch’s telling, Jewish religious life in Brandon was “basic”. “We kept kosher in our home,” he remarks. “We brought in kosher meat from Winnipeg. We had a synagogue but, aside from the odd community event, it really only functioned on the High Holidays.”
David Greenberg noted that, for the first couple of decades, the Jewish community’s members davened in people’s homes. Portage’s Jewish community didn’t build a proper synagogue until 1950. Services were largely restricted to Friday evenings and the High Holidays. The merchants had to work on Saturdays. The community also made attempts to have a cheder, but with limited success.
While it would seem (from my own memories as well) that the general communities in those small towns respected the Jewish merchants in their midst – none of the four speakers mentioned any incidents of antisemitism – the Jewish families – even in the already more secular and integrated second and third generations – primarily socialized with other Jewish families.
In Portage – although the Jewish families did largely socialize with each other, the second and third generations also held leadership positions in the larger community. Greenberg noted that Jack Shindelman, Ben Kushner, and Irwin Callen all became aldermen, and Harold Narvey was re-elected chairman of the school board many times.
“My mother served as President of the Imperial Order Daughters of the Empire (IODE),” Greenberg noted, “and as a longtime volunteer at the Portage General Hospital Auxiliary. My father and his brother Allan became Exalted Rulers of the Elks Lodge, My Uncle Michael was leader of the Elks Band.”
In Zentner’s remembering, although she had many non-Jewish friends among the girls in her classes – her parents only got together socially with the other two Jewish families in town or Jewish families in nearby towns.
“In the summers, we would join other Jewish families at Round Lake, vacationing at Round Lake,” she recalled. “One summer, my parents sent me to a Habonim camp in the Qu’Appelle Valley where I met a lot of other Jewish kids.”
“For their social life, my family mixed almost exclusively with other members of Brandon’s Jewish community,” Robinovitch said. “There were Saturday evening poker nights and Sunday afternoon gatherings at Crystal’s Delicatessen. On Saturday afternoons, I would go to the movies and a couple of other Jewish kids in my school and I belonged to the Cubs and Boy Scouts.
“I had a few friends from school, but I always felt that I was different,” Robinovitch continued. “I was aware of being Jewish – although I had no real sense of what Jewishness was all about. I would say that the only time that I had any exposure to Jewish culture was when my parents sent me one summer to Herzl Camp in Wisconsin when I was 12 years old. It was a real eye opener being in an environment with so many other Jewish youngsters. I was exposed to a lot of Hebrew songs and, to this day, I still remember the Birkat Hamazon and V’ahavtah prayers that I learned there.”
The next year, the Robinovitch family moved to Winnipeg and young Sid quickly became immersed in Jewish life here. “In Brandon, I felt that we were defined by what we didn’t do,” he observed. “We didn’t go to school on the High Holidays. We didn’t have a Christmas tree. And we didn’t go to visit grandpa and grandma on the family farm.
“It was in Winnipeg where my identity as a Jew really began to take shape. Brandon was a nice place to live, but it could not provide the strong Jewish community values that emanate from a lager centre. A remnant of Jewish values still prevailed from the shtetl, but by my generation, they had worn thin.”
For Lil Zentner, the end of her time in Esterhazy came when she began dating a local boy. Her parents wouldn’t tolerate it when they found out. After a mighty blow-up, she challenged them to send her to Winnipeg where she could meet fellow Jews. Her older brother, Harold, was already here, going to university. Her parents agreed and they followed a year later.
For the Jewish community in Selkirk, Bruce Sarbit noted, being so close to Winnipeg, it was almost an extension of the larger city. His remarks were as much about nostalgia for Winnipeg as they were about Selkirk. “In my case,” he said, “I came into Winnipeg for everything Jewish – Hebrew lessons. Sunday Jewish history classes and YMHA clubs.”
The smaller city, he observed – at its peak home to perhaps 20 Jewish families, “fostered a strong sense of community among the Jewish families and helped them to hold onto their cultural and religious traditions, celebrate Shabbat, observe holidays, practise kashrut and maintain their Yiddish language as they ran businesses that necessitated interactions with the non-Jewish population”.
He added that his own father, Syd, who came to Portage at the age of three, was immersed in the general community as well – having twice served as president of the Chamber of Commerce, was also a member of the Rotary club, and once ran for election to the Legislature.
Unlike Portage and Brandon, though. Selkirk was close enough that the Jewish residents of Selkirk often drove into Winnipeg, attended High Holiday services here, visited relatives and, in general, partook of the activities, Jewish and otherwise, that the larger city provided.
Unlike Robinovitch and Zentner though, Sarbit did not spend all of his adult life in Winnipeg. He left Selkirk at the age of 18 for Brandon. For 40 years, the psychologist turned playwright served as a counsellor at Brandon University.
“The descendants of the first residents chose not to remain in Portage,” Greenberg concluded – in summing up the decline and disappearance of the other Jewish communities on the Prairies – with the exception of Winnipeg, Regina and Saskatoon. “Intermarriage was frowned upon and the children were too few in number and not close enough in age to socialize, so for girls to meet Jewish boys they were required to move to alarger centres, primarily Winnipeg. I believe culture was the motivating factor in their decision.
“Only my Uncle, Allan Greenberg, a bachelor, Harold and Mildred Narvey, and their son Bruce, who opened a chiropractic practice, remained. Bruce Narvey, as I mentioned, was the last of the resident descendants, before leaving after his mother died.”
Although Greenberg himself – and his brother, Barry – have lived most of their lives in Winnipeg, they continue to practise law in Portage and have had a history of community involvement in the Portage community. In recent years, David co-chaired the Portage and Area Beautification initiative committee through the Chamber of Commerce, resulting in seven years of service in the planning and implementation of the project. As a result, the committee was awarded its Citizenship of the Year award by the community. As for Barry Greenberg, he is a past president of the Portage & District Chamber of Commerce.
Local News
Holocaust survivors group “Cafe Europa” celebrates 25th anniversary
By MYRON LOVE On October 12, 2000, the Jewish Child and Family Service (JCFS) invited Holocaust survivors in our community to attend an information session at the Gwen Secter Creative Living Centre to discuss how the community could better serve the needs of that segment of our community. What grew out of that meeting was the establishment of the Winnipeg chapter of Cafe Europa, an international organization originally established by the Conference on Jewish Material Claims Against Germany, which brings together Holocaust survivors to forge connections and community with others who have shared their experience.
On Thursday, October 23, 2025, a small group of our community’s rapidly dwindling survivors joined some of the JCSF staff who have been involved with the program over the years – including current president and CEO Al Benarroch, his predecessor, Emily Shane, JCFS seniors case worker Adeena Lungen, recently retired Cheryl Hirsh Katz, along with Keith Elfenbein and Heather Kraut – the current JCFS staff overseeing JCFS seniors programming – also Shelley Faintuch, who was the Jewish Federation of Winnipeg’s Director of Community Relations 25 years ago – for the for lunch at the Gwen Secter to celebrate the 25th anniversary of the founding of Winnipeg’s Cafe Europa.
“It is a really special moment for me to stand before you today as we commemorate the 25th anniversary of our Holocaust survivors’ social lunch program,” said Adeena Lungen, JCFS social worker. Lungen herself is the daughter of Holocaust survivors.
Al Benarroch, President and CEO of JCFS, added, ““Our Holocaust survivors are truly precious jewels, the living legacy, resilience, an embodiment of Jewish survival, and of ‘Am Yisrael Chai’. We owe them so much for their stewardship of Jewish truth and justice. They are truly righteous among us.”
Lungen continued: “It began with a simple idea to bring Holocaust survivors together and evolved into a regular biweekly group where survivors meet, share a meal, enjoy a program and find comfort in each other’s company. It has grown into an environment where survivors have been able to come together year after year supporting each other through illness, loss, and hardship, as well as celebrating together successes and family simchas.”
Lungen was one of two JCFS social workers who were at that original meeting 25 years ago, along with Shelley Faintuch – also the child of Holocaust survivors – representing the Federation. “Our initial idea was just to create a space where survivors could come together as a community of people with shared experiences and history,” Lungen recounted.
The name, “Cafe Europa”, she explained, comes from a cafe of the same name in Stockholm where survivors met in the early years after the war in the hopes of finding family and friends who had also survived the Holocaust.
Lungen recalled that the survivors who attended that first meeting were very clear about their vision for the group. “They weren’t looking for a therapy or support group – nor did they want to talk about their wartime experiences,” she said. “They simply wanted a program where they could socialize with other survivors. I came to understand their needs and desires to meet with others who understood loss and suffering in a way that only other survivors could.”
Speaking directly to the 15 survivors at the 25th anniversary lunch, Lungen praised them for their “indomitable will to live a life of purpose and meaning. You have shown all of us – in very real ways – what it means to rebuild your lives, to persevere and to believe in the possibility of goodness after unimaginable loss.
“We at JCFS are grateful for the opportunity to work with you, to learn from you and to be inspired by you.”
As the number of survivors in our community continue to decrease year after year, so too do the numbers attending Cafe Europa programs. Keith Elfenbeinn noted, “when Heather (Kraut) and I began working with the survivors 12 years ago, we had close to 50 attending our bimonthly programs (which feature lunch followed by speakers or performers). Now we get fewer than 20.”
He added that most survivors are in their late 80s or 90s now – including 100-year-olds Charlotte Kittner and Saul Fink.
Lungen in particular noted Elfenbein’s role in co-ordinating all aspects of Cafe Europa’s programming, including phoning survivors to arrange transportation, booking the speakers and entertainment, and liaising with the Gwen Secter Centre.
Shelley Faintuch delved into Canada’s sorry history with regard to largely having banned Jewish immigration here before the war and limiting the numbers after the war. She provided an overview – in her years as the Federation’s Community Relations director – to reach out to governments and build bridges to other faith and ethnic communities –as well as high school students, aimed at raising awareness of antisemitism and taking measures to fight this pernicious hatred.
The 25th anniversary program finished with a musical performance by Rabbi Matthew Leibl and Cantor Steven Hyman.