Always in flight, one of the world’s permanent transients, Joseph Roth (1894–1939) was a one-man diaspora. A drunk and a fantasist, he was also a marvelous writer whose work was bedizened with metaphor, laced with simile.
Three people are required to perfect a joke: one to tell it, one to get it, and a third not to get it.
A successful Jewish jock, demonstrating strength and physical courage, nicely rounds out Jews’ sense of completeness as human beings.
If fame is when everyone understands it is you when only your first name is mentioned, Groucho (Marx) certainly qualifies.
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