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Former Winnipegger Dr. Meir Kryger takes an impressive turn to fiction with “The Man Who Couldn’t Stay Awake”

Meir Kryger edited 1
Dr. Meir Kryger
“The Man Who Couldn’t Stay Awake”

By BERNIE BELLAN In the mid-1980s a young Dr. Meir Kryger was beginning to establish his reputation as one of the pre-eminent experts in the area of sleep disorders. Having moved to Winnipeg to take up a position at St. Boniface Hospital (where he was to establish Canada’s first sleep lab devoted entirely to researching sleep disorders and was the first doctor to describe a case of sleep apnea in Canada) Kryger also somehow found the time to begin working on a novel – which, for various reasons, he just couldn’t complete.

Eventually though, in 2020 Kryger did publish that novel which, appropriately enough (given his career’s major primary focus) was titled “The Man Who Couldn’t Stay Awake”. As Kryger wrote to me in a recent email, “While I was still in Winnipeg, I wrote a novel that I never did anything thing with because my medical career had priority. When COVID hit, I published it on Amazon.”

Now, you might expect that after taking more than 35 years to complete his first novel, Kryger was not exactly sitting on an incipient blockbuster that people would really enjoy – but you would be wrong.
If anything, “The Man Who Couldn’t Stay Awake” is a first-rate mystery that moves at a whirlwind pace and which, if it had been promoted by a major publishing house rather than being self published would probably have received considerable renown by now.

I couldn’t help but think that in the past eight months we’ve published reviews of two other novels by Canadian Jewish doctors (“Prairie Sonata, by Sandra Shefrin Rubin, and “Lost Immunity”, by Daniel Kalla), along with a book of poetry (“Tablet Fragments”, by Tamar Rubin). All of these books have gone on to receive widespread critical acclaim and, in some cases, have either won awards or been nominated for them.
That doctors can also be talented writers should come as no surprise. What I wonder though is how a practicing physician can find the time to write for pleasure, given how busy most of them are – and how polished the end products have turned out to be. (As a writer of non-fiction in these pages – although some readers may say that what I actually produce would best be described as fiction, I can attest to how one has to force oneself to sit down and write – on top of freeing oneself from all distractions: no easy task.)

But, as Meir Kryger explained in an email to me, Covid afforded him the opportunity to finish something that he had set aside many years before – and after he had already authored many other books of non-fiction, all to do with the subject of sleep.
I asked him how long he actually spent writing “The Man Who Couldn’t Stay Awake”? He answered: “I did many drafts of the book, some handwritten (which I still have). Hundreds of hours.”

So, what’s “The Man Who Couldn’t Stay Awake” all about? It tells the story of a doctor (naturally) by the name of Sam Moroz, who finds himself enmeshed in a plot involving oil drilling in the Arctic. The book opens up with Moroz falling from the sky on to the Arctic ice – certainly a riveting beginning to what unfolds as a complex mystery involving various subplots, including an elaborate investment scheme, life among the Inuit, marital betrayal, a trip to Las Vegas, followed by a rafting trip on the Colorado River, Swiss bankers, French gastronomy…need I go on?
The plot moves back and forth in time – a device that we’ve come to expect in good mystery novels, as we gradually begin to understand just how it is that Moroz ended up falling from the sky in that opening scene. Through the course of the novel Moroz befriends an Inuit hunter by the name of Pauloosie.

I asked Kryger though, whether in his final draft, he had thought of changing his references to “Indians” in the novel? Although the term would certainly have been acceptable in the 1980s, I’m not so sure that he would escape criticism in our contemporary age of liberal “cancel culture” .
Here is how he responded: “The word “Indian” appears about 35 times in the book. That was the term in common usage in the 1980s. Even government agencies used that word. The book was reviewed by an aboriginal professor at U of M who had no problems with the book. Most of the readers have been Americans: The term “American Indian” is widely used in the US.”
(That’s all well and good, Meir, but in an age when using the wrong term can lead to being pilloried by certain groups, I just don’t know how that would go over with the agents of political correctness.)

I also wondered though whether Kryger had ever thought of updating some other references in the novel to make it more accessible to younger readers. After all, reading about characters using payphones does seem somewhat anachronistic. So, I asked him whether he had thought about revising the book to make it more contemporary?
His answer was: “I did think of updating it, but the events and context are early 80s. I suppose I could have modeled Kian (the novel’s primary villain) as an internet tycoon (rather than an oil baron, which is how he is depicted). Maybe for the sequel?” (By the way, I did suggest to Kryger that he should bring back Sam Moroz in another novel, which is why he referred to writing a sequel – apparently an idea he’s contemplating).
Something else about “The Man Who Couldn’t Stay Awake” that might especially appeal to Winnipeg readers is that some of the action does take place in this city, although the descriptions of some of the seedier parts of Winnipeg are not exactly flattering. Kryger does delve into some interesting historical references though when he writes about the way Inuit suffering from tuberculosis and other maladies were administered to by well meaning White doctors. In his description of Pauloosie’s father’s treatment for TB, he reminded me of a story we published in our paper by Susan Turner about how her uncle, Dr. Earl Hershfield, became the leading expert on the treatment of that disease among the Inuit. (You can read that story on our website at http://jewishpostandnews.ca/8-features/608-dr-earl-hershfield-and-inuit-bobbie-suluk-connecting-over-time.)

In my email correspondence with Kryger, I suggested to him that he has the makings of another Dan Brown (author of “The Da Vinci Code”) in the way he provides the reader with so much interesting information as the action moves quickly from one locale to another while the hero attempts to solve a complicated mystery.
Kryger said though that he was inspired more by Charles Dickens’ “Pickwick Papers”. (I’m sorry to say that I haven’t read that one, but now my curiosity is piqued.)
The painful truth for a writer, however, no matter how good they may be, is that it’s very rare for a book to gain any sort of acclaim unless it’s picked up by a major publisher. Kryger says that he doesn’t have a literary agent, but if Amazon reviews are any indication, readers of “The Man Who Couldn’t Stay Awake” are overwhelmingly positive in their responses to this book.
Comments on Amazon (which is where the book can be purchased) range from “a real page turner” to “a well written travelogue”. And, although there aren’t a huge number of ratings, it does score an impressive 4.9 out of 5 in customer reviews.
For Winnipeggers who knew Meir Kryger when he, his wife, Barbara, daughter Shelley, and sons Michael and Steven, lived here until he took up a new position in 2011 at Yale University, I thought it might be interesting to catch up with where they’ve all ended up, so I asked Kryger to give a summary of where they all are these days.
Here’s what he wrote: “Shelley is a math teacher in NYC. Michael, my middle son is a doctor in charge of a spinal cord unit in Pennsylvania. Steven, my youngest son works in the financial industry. Barbara was a consultant in HR (career development) for APTN (Aboriginal Peoples Television Network) until about 4 years ago.

“We are all vaccinated and well.”

“The Man Who Couldn’t Stay Awake” is available on paperback or in Kindle format from Amazon.

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Features

So, what’s the deal with the honey scene in ‘Marty Supreme?’

Timothée Chalamet plays Jewish ping-pong player Marty Mauser in Marty Supreme. Courtesy of A24

By Olivia Haynie December 29, 2025 This story was originally published in the Forward. Click here to get the Forward’s free email newsletters delivered to your inbox.

There are a lot of jarring scenes in Marty Supreme, Josh Safdie’s movie about a young Jew in the 1950s willing to do anything to secure his spot in table tennis history. There’s the one where Marty (Timothée Chalamet) gets spanked with a ping-pong paddle; there’s the one where a gas station explodes. And the one where Marty, naked in a bathtub, falls through the floor of a cheap motel. But the one that everybody online seems to be talking about is a flashback of an Auschwitz story told by Marty’s friend and fellow ping-ponger Béla Kletzki (Géza Röhrig, best known for his role as a Sonderkommando in Son of Saul).

Kletzki tells the unsympathetic ink tycoon Milton Rockwell (Kevin O’Leary) about how the Nazis, impressed by his table tennis skills, spared his life and recruited him to disarm bombs. One day, while grappling with a bomb in the woods, Kletzki stumbled across a honeycomb. He smeared the honey across his body and returned to the camp, where he let his fellow prisoners lick it off his body. The scene is a sensory nightmare, primarily shot in close-ups of wet tongues licking sticky honey off Kletzki’s hairy body. For some, it was also … funny?

Many have reported that the scene has been triggering a lot of laughter in their theaters. My audience in Wilmington, North Carolina, certainly had a good chuckle — with the exception of my mother, who instantly started sobbing. I sat in stunned silence, unsure at first what to make of the sharp turn the film had suddenly taken. One post on X that got nearly 6,000 likes admonished Safdie for his “insane Holocaust joke.” Many users replied that the scene was in no way meant to be funny, with one even calling it “the most sincere scene in the whole movie.”

For me, the scene shows the sheer desperation of those in the concentration camps, as well as the self-sacrifice that was essential to survival. And yet many have interpreted it as merely shock humor.

Laughter could be understood as an inevitable reaction to discomfort and shock at a scene that feels so out of place in what has, up to that point, been a pretty comedic film. The story is sandwiched between Marty’s humorous attempts to embarrass Rockwell and seduce his wife. Viewers may have mistaken the scene as a joke since the film’s opening credits sequence of sperm swimming through fallopian tubes gives the impression you will be watching a comedy interspersed with some tense ping-pong playing.

The reaction could also be part of what some in the movie theater industry are calling the “laugh epidemic.” In The New York Times, Marie Solis explored the inappropriate laughter in movie theaters that seems to be increasingly common. The rise of meme culture and the dissolution of clear genres (Marty Supreme could be categorized as somewhere between drama and comedy), she writes, have primed audiences to laugh at moments that may not have been meant to be funny.

The audience’s inability to process the honey scene as sincere may also be a sign of a society that has become more disconnected from the traumas of the past. It would not be the first time that people, unable to comprehend the horrors of the Holocaust, have instead derided the tales of abuse as pure fiction. But Kletzki’s story is based on the real experiences of Alojzy Ehrlich, a ping-pong player imprisoned at Auschwitz. The scene is not supposed to be humorous trauma porn — Safdie has called it a “beautiful story” about the “camaraderie” found within the camps. It also serves as an important reminder of all that Marty is fighting for.

The events of the film take place only seven years after the Holocaust, and the macabre honey imagery encapsulates the dehumanization the Jews experienced. Marty is motivated not just by a desire to prove himself as an athlete and rise above what his uncle and mother expect of him, but above what the world expects of him as a Jew. His drive to reclaim Jewish pride is further underscored when he brings back a piece of an Egyptian pyramid to his mother, telling her, “We built this.”

Without understanding this background, the honey scene will come off as out of place and ridiculous. And the lengths Marty is willing to go to to make something of himself cannot be fully appreciated. The film’s description on the review-app Letterboxd says Marty Supreme is about one man who “goes to hell and back in pursuit of greatness.” But behind Marty is the story of a whole people who have gone through hell; they too are trying to find their way back.

Olivia Haynie is an editorial fellow at the Forward.

This story was originally published on the Forward.

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Features

Paghahambing ng One-on-One Matches at Multiplayer Challenges sa Pusoy in English

Ang Pusoy, na kilala din bilang Chinese Poker, ay patuloy na sumisikat sa buong mundo, kumukuha ng interes ng mga manlalaro mula sa iba’t ibang bansa. Ang mga online platforms ay nagpapadali sa pag-access nito. Ang online version nito ay lubos na nagpasigla ng interes sa mga baguhan at casual players, na nagdulot ng diskusyon kung alin ang mas madali: ang paglalaro ng Pusoy one-on-one o sa multiplayer settings.

Habang nailipat sa digital platforms ang Pusoy, napakahalaga na maunawaan ang mga format nito upang mapahusay ang karanasan sa laro. Malaking epekto ang bilang ng mga kalaban pagdating sa istilo ng laro, antas ng kahirapan, at ang ganap na gameplay dynamics. Ang mga platforms tulad ng GameZone ay nagbibigay ng angkop na espasyo para sa mga manlalaro na masubukan ang parehong one-on-one at multiplayer Pusoy, na akma para sa iba’t ibang klase ng players depende sa kanilang kasanayan at kagustuhan.

Mga Bentahe ng One-on-One Pusoy

Simpleng Gameplay

Sa one-on-one Pusoy in English, dalawa lang ang naglalaban—isang manlalaro at isang kalaban. Dahil dito, mas madali ang bawat laban. Ang pokus ng mga manlalaro ay nakatuon lamang sa kanilang sariling 13 cards at sa mga galaw ng kalaban, kaya’t nababawasan ang pagiging komplikado.

Para sa mga baguhan, ideal ang one-on-one matches upang:

  • Sanayin ang tamang pagsasaayos ng cards.
  • Matutunan ang tamang ranggo ng bawat kamay.
  • Magsanay na maiwasan ang mag-foul sa laro.

Ang simpleng gameplay ay nagbibigay ng matibay na pundasyon para sa mas kumplikadong karanasan sa multiplayer matches.

Mga Estratehiya mula sa Pagmamasid

Sa one-on-one matches, mas madaling maunawaan ang istilo ng kalaban dahil limitado lamang ang galaw na kailangan sundan. Maaari mong obserbahan ang mga sumusunod na patterns:

  • Konserbatibong pagkakaayos o agresibong strategy.
  • Madalas na pagkakamali o overconfidence.
  • Labis na pagtuon sa isang grupo ng cards.

Dahil dito, nagkakaroon ng pagkakataon ang mga manlalaro na isaayos ang kanilang estratehiya upang mas epektibong maka-responde sa galaw ng kalaban, partikular kung maglalaro sa competitive platforms tulad ng GameZone.

Mas Mababang Pressure

Dahil one-on-one lamang ang laban, mababawasan ang mental at emotional stress. Walang ibang kalaban na makaka-distract, na nagbibigay ng pagkakataon para sa mga baguhan na matuto nang walang matinding parusa sa kanilang mga pagkakamali. Nagiging stepping stone ito patungo sa mas dynamic na multiplayer matches.

Ang Hamon ng Multiplayer Pusoy

Mas Komplikado at Mas Malalim na Gameplay

Sa Multiplayer Pusoy, madaragdagan ang bilang ng kalaban, kaya mas nagiging komplikado ang laro. Kailangan kalkulahin ng bawat manlalaro ang galaw ng maraming tao at ang pagkakaayos nila ng cards.

Ang ilang hamon ng multiplayer ay:

  • Pagbabalanse ng lakas ng cards sa tatlong grupo.
  • Pag-iwas sa labis na peligro habang nagiging kompetitibo.
  • Pagtatagumpayan ang lahat ng kalaban nang sabay-sabay.

Ang ganitong klase ng gameplay ay nangangailangan ng maingat na pagpaplano, prediksyon, at strategic na pasensiya.

Mas Malakas na Mental Pressure

Mas mataas ang psychological demand sa multiplayer, dahil mabilis ang galawan at mas mahirap manatiling kalmado sa gitna ng mas maraming kalaban. Kabilang dito ang:

  • Bilisan ang pagdedesisyon kahit under pressure.
  • Paano mananatiling focused sa gitna ng mga distractions.
  • Pagkakaroon ng emosyonal na kontrol matapos ang sunod-sunod na talo.

Mas exciting ito para sa mga manlalarong gusto ng matinding hamon at pagmamalasakit sa estratehiya.

GameZone: Ang Bagong Tahanan ng Modern Pusoy

Ang GameZone online ay isang kahanga-hangang platform para sa mga naglalaro ng Pusoy in English. Nagbibigay ito ng opsyon para sa parehong one-on-one at multiplayer matches, akma para sa kahit anong antas ng kasanayan.

Mga feature ng GameZone:

  • Madaling English interface para sa user-friendly na gameplay.
  • Real-player matches imbes na kalaban ay bots.
  • Mga tool para sa responsible play, tulad ng time reminder at spending limits.

Pagtatagal ng Pamanang Pusoy

Ang Pusoy card game in English ay nagpalawak ng abot nito sa mas maraming players mula sa iba’t ibang bahagi ng mundo habang pinapanatili ang tradisyunal nitong charm. Sa pamamagitan ng mga modernong platform tulad ng GameZone, mananatiling buhay at progresibo ang Pusoy, nakakabighani pa rin sa lahat ng antas ng manlalaro—mula sa casual enjoyment hanggang sa competitive challenges.

Mula sa maingat na pag-aayos ng mga cards hanggang sa pag-master ng estratehiya, ang Pusoy ay isang laro na nananatiling relevant habang ipinapakita ang masalimuot nitong gameplay dynamics na puno ng kultura at inobasyon.

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Rob Reiner asked the big questions. His death leaves us searching for answers.

Can men and women just be friends? Can you be in the revenge business too long? Why don’t you just make 10 louder and have that be the top number on your amp?

All are questions Rob Reiner sought to answer. In the wake of his and his wife’s unexpected deaths, which are being investigated as homicides, it’s hard not to reel with questions of our own: How could someone so beloved come to such a senseless end? How can we account for such a staggering loss to the culture when it came so prematurely? How can we juggle that grief and our horror over the violent murder of Jews at an Australian beach, gathered to celebrate the first night of Hanukkah, and still light candles of our own?

The act of asking may be a way forward, just as Rob Reiner first emerged from sitcom stardom by making inquiries.

In This is Spinal Tap, his first feature, he played the role of Marty DiBergi, the in-universe director of the documentary about the misbegotten 1982 U.S. concert tour of the eponymous metal band. He was, in a sense, culminating the work of his father, Carl Reiner, who launched a classic comedy record as the interviewer of Mel Brooks’ 2,000 Year Old Man. DiBergi as played by Reiner was a reverential interlocutor — one might say a fanboy — but he did take time to query Nigel Tufnell as to why his amp went to 11. And, quoting a bad review, he asked “What day did the Lord create Spinal Tap, and couldn’t he have rested on that day too?”

But Reiner had larger questions to mull over. And in this capacity — not just his iconic scene at Katz’s Deli in When Harry Met Sally or the goblin Yiddishkeit of Miracle Max in The Princess Bride — he was a fundamentally Jewish director.

Stand By Me is a poignant meditation on death through the eyes of childhood — it asks what we remember and how those early experiences shape us. The Princess Bride is a storybook consideration of love — it wonders at the price of seeking or avenging it at all costs. A Few Good Men is a trenchant, cynical-for-Aaron Sorkin, inquest of abuse in the military — how can it happen in an atmosphere of discipline.

In his public life, Reiner was an activist. He asked how he could end cigarette smoking. He asked why gay couples couldn’t marry like straight ones. He asked what Russia may have had on President Trump. This fall, with the FCC’s crackdown on Jimmy Kimmel, he asked if he would soon be censored. He led with the Jewish question of how the world might be repaired.

Guttingly, in perhaps his most personal project, 2015’s Being Charlie, co-written by his son Nick he wondered how a parent can help a child struggling with addiction. (Nick was questioned by the LAPD concerning his parents’ deaths and was placed under arrest.)

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None of the questions had pat answers. Taken together, there’s scarcely a part of life that Reiner’s filmography overlooked, including the best way to end it, in 2007’s The Bucket List.

Judging by the longevity of his parents, both of whom lived into their 90s, it’s entirely possible Reiner had much more to ask of the world. That we won’t get to see another film by him, or spot him on the news weighing in on the latest democratic aberration, is hard to swallow.

Yet there is some small comfort in the note Reiner went out on. In October, he unveiled Spinal Tap II: The Beginning of the End, a valedictory moment in a long and celebrated career.

Reiner once again returned to the role of DiBergi. I saw a special prescreening with a live Q&A after the film. It was the day Charlie Kirk was assassinated. I half-expected Reiner to break character and address political violence — his previous film, God & Country, was a documentary on Christian Nationalism.

But Reiner never showed up — only Marty DiBergi, sitting with Nigel Tuffnell (Christopher Guest), David St. Hubbins (Michael McKean) and Derek Smalls (Harry Shearer) at Grauman’s Chinese Theater in Los Angeles. The interview was broadcast to theaters across the country, with viewer-submitted questions like “What, in fact, did the glove from Smell the Glove smell like?” (Minty.) And “Who was the inspiration for ‘Big Bottom?’” (Della Reese.)

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DiBergi had one question for the audience: “How did you feel about the film?”

The applause was rapturous, but DiBergi still couldn’t get over Nigel Tuffnell’s Marshall amp, which now stretched beyond 11 and into infinity.

“How can that be?” he asked. “How can you go to infinity? How loud is that?”

There’s no limit, Tuffnell assured him. “Why should there be a limit?”

Reiner, an artist of boundless curiosity and humanity, was limitless. His remit was to reason why. He’ll be impossible to replace, but in asking difficult questions, we can honor him.

The post Rob Reiner asked the big questions. His death leaves us searching for answers. appeared first on The Forward.

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