The fate of Denmark’s Jews in October, 1943 was an anecdote in a sea of malice. My Danish friend Michael was on one of those boats, the ones wandering around in the Øresund on a dark night in October, lights out lest the Nazi patrols find them, and also lost in an autumn storm, headed possibly for Sweden, but also possibly to Poland or Germany itself.
In a world of metastasizing injustices, Denmark would be one of the last places to get a red flag for public policy abuse.
Still, the Danish Supreme Court stepped in it June 3 in a case against Bent Jensen, who conveyed declassified records into a publication in 2007. The outcome has Danish writers and publishers running for cover. Continue reading Bronx Cheer for a Danish Court→
I haven’t heard Sonja Vesterholt’s actual voice in some years, but it came back with immediacy when I read her prose on a flight from Copenhagen to Baltimore last week. Learning more about your friends is unsettling, and satisfying. In the 1980s in Denmark, I’d heard some of her stories from the earlier days in the Soviet Union. Now comes the book, Hunden er rask (“The Dog is Well,” Gyldendal, 2011.) Continue reading The Dog Is Well→