Arnon Grunberg



A journalist is writing an article about my mother, part of a book that will be published this fall.
He managed to find a photo of my mother on the infamous St. Louis; a ship that left Germany in 1939 with Jewish refugees, it was bound for Cuba but Cuba closed its borders at the last moment. (See also here.)
I showed the photo to my mother, she said: “This is not me, I never had such dark hair. If this scoundrel mistakes me again for somebody else I will take him to court.”

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