REFUGEE by Erika Michael

$22.99

 

In Erika Michael’s impressive book Refugee, she does more than memorialize her family’s persecution in Austria for their Jewish faith. While Refugee shows the tremendous loss, brutality, and injustice of it all—the poems also bear witness to moments of resilience and joy. While the book itself raises questions of memories and their allusiveness, what is never in question is the truth of feeling surrounding those memories. Refugee blends oral history, songs, and family archival detail to such a degree that readers will feel transported to the locale of each poem. The result is a tremendous accomplishment of faith, memory, and lyricism.   

Charlotte Pence, Mobile Poet Laureate and author of Code 

 

Erika Michael’s Refugee ushers us into a Jewish early childhood in Vienna as the Third Reich rises and takes hold. Her poems then carry us west to new beginnings that millions would never access. We’re drawn, by her pulsing music of necessity, on through a life imbued with gratitude and a keen feeling of the miraculous. The senses are alive in these poems of moments that might easily have never been. Refugee bristles with the utter unlikelihood of a family’s American life. Erika Michael, “shabby kid with memories of flight,” renders a destroyed world breathing, laughing, murmuring prayers passed down centuries…reminding us love survives the forces of annihilation.  

–Jed Myers, author of Learning to Hold and The Marriage of Space and Time 

 

 

Description

REFUGEE

by Erika Michael

Full-length, Paper

979-8-89990-237-6

2025

My parents and I arrived as refugees in New York on the SS Rex in November, 1939, having hidden from Hitler’s henchmen for a year and a half. As I was then not yet three, many anecdotes in these pages were quarried from memories passed on to me about life in Vienna before and after the Anschluss, and about the tribulations of living as Jews under German occupation before our exodus.
Crafting these poems has kindled some of my earliest recollections, challenging me to reach back to days before conscious pictures imprinted themselves on my mind. To create a persuasive chronicle, I relied on scarce songs and stories passed down to me by family as well as on the old, faded photographs from our disarrayed album. Above all, I’ve attempted to capture the nuanced tang of events that clung to all the Holocaust-scarred people with whom I was close while growing up—the congregation of family and friends who silently understood each other. May these poems give voice to their collective breath.

 

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