Monday, December 29, 2008

Didn't see this one coming?

Once again the literary world and readers are aghast, aghast!, at misrepresentations in a memoir. Herman Rosenblat is the latest tall-tale teller to be brought down by flat out lies. Seriously people, Rosenblat's tale was way too good to believe and by "good", I mean the sugary, folksy, feel-good-about-yourself malarkey that seems to go down so easy. What is especially offensive about this particular fish-tale is the Holocaust angle. Rosenblat claims his deceit was his desire " . . to bring happiness to people." And what literary agent/movie studio/talk show extraordinaire/screenwriter wouldn't be happy to get ahold of the feel-good Holocaust Book/Movie Of The Year? Can't you just smell the Oscar? Rosenblat greatest sin isn't to the literary public, which frankly, seems lately to encourage this kind of fable. Rosenblat's disservice is to his own remarkable life of a loving, 50 year-strong marriage and survival under the worst of circumstances.

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