It was not as large as Berdichev, or Zhitomir; the town never held more than ten thousand people. Polish, Lithuanian and Russian Empires flowed over Belarus and the Jews of Rechytsa went on living by their own calendar of feasts and fasts. In Hatskell’s day the little town was modestly prosperous. Turkish goods came in on river boats along the Dnepr. Rye and wheat were brought in from neighbouring villages. Their Gentile neighbours were often emancipated serfs who usually paid for their goods with a goose or a pot of honey. The Jews understood their poverty – there were many poor Jews in Rechytsa – but were alarmed by their savagery. There were tales of public whippings, thieves dragged through the streets behind a horse. Their drunkenness, too, was frightening, their vodka poisonous; their anger against oppression only too often directed against the Jews. In the only photograph I have of Hatskell, he is wearing a dark, buttoned overcoat and a bowler hat.
What do You think about The Russian Jerusalem (2011)?
