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Enjoyable article. My experience of the Yiddish Fiddler on the Roof had initiated a nostalgic longing rising inside, for the many familiar conversations which had swirled around me during my childhood. I’d spoken with my grandparents, parents, and relatives in my broken Yiddish, their fluent Yiddish, in our fluent Hebrew and English, and in a bit of the other languages my grandparents knew: a combination of Yiddish Hebrew English Polish Russian German and French. In the theatre, the European sounding vocalisms and mannerisms of Fiddler were a reminder but, hadn‘t matched my memory banks, not enough to evoke nor echo those haimieshe Yiddish voices of past elder generations, once vibrant, now long gone I felt saddened because the accents and distinct verbal flair were missing. Still, gladness filled my heart in the hopes that creations like these might attract native Yiddish speakers to the task of repeating the musical in Yiddish, thus offering for our kinderlach the true Yiddish flair.

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