The only reason my father never wrestled a bear is that there were none on the streets of Manchester. But he behaved otherwise Russianly. He had a riotous laugh. He performed feats of strength—bending 6-inch nails, tearing telephone directories in half, lifting up a chair by one leg, regardless of whether someone was sitting in it. And he danced the kazatsky, shouting “Hoy! Hoy!” at ruby weddings and bar mitzvahs.
It helped that my father had short legs. He taught me to dance the kazatsky and it helped that I had short legs too. The kazatsky is a long way down if you’re a tall man. For all their fearsomeness, Cossacks must have been short men.
Continue reading "Howard Jacobson: 'Russia, My Homeland'" at...
