Exodus: A memoir

by Feldman, Deborah

  I would also like to extend my sincere, heartfelt gratitude to my publisher, David Rosenthal. You met me at my most naïve and vulnerable and somehow sniffed out an ember of potential, which you fanned into a flame. I won’t say the process has been entirely painless, but I feel privileged to be under your eye and wing. I hope to continue to learn from you in the years to come.

  Thank you so much, Sarah Hochman, for your consistent and unparalleled faith in my voice, for helping me find my narrative direction through much trial and error, and for your shrewd literary judgment. Liz Stein, thanks above all for making me laugh—and for making this book that much more fun to write! You were such an asset to the creative process. I hope we can work together again.

  A very special thanks is owed to all the wonderful people at Blue Rider Press who had a hand in making this book the best it could be in every way. Aileen Boyle and Brian Ulicky are people I’ve been lucky to know for quite some time, and I must say it’s awfully nice to work with them on such a personal level. I’m so grateful for all the efforts of this most excellent publicity department. I’m also really appreciative of Phoebe Pickering and Rebecca Harris for handling the everyday back-and-forth with such aplomb—it really does make the business of being a writer that much more appealing when you have such dedicated people on your side. Thanks to Marie Finamore for her keen eye, Meighan Cavanaugh for the beautiful design, and Linda Cowen for making the whole legal thing the opposite of a nightmare. For the marvelous cover, kudos is owed to Gregg Kulick.

  I feel so lucky to have fellow travelers in my wanderings: Richard, who never ceases to inspire me; Odd and his family, who beckon like a welcoming lighthouse on distant shores for myself and many others; Kat and Scotty, for showing me that even the unconventional can find a sense of home and belonging; Milena and Audrey, those glamorous Jewish denizens of Paris—you’ve expanded my sense of what’s possible, and my sense of self as well; Esther Munkacsi, a kindred spirit I met in Budapest—who, despite her Jewish-sounding name, did not actually need to be Jewish to show me the kind of solidarity and understanding the likes of which I have rarely come across—I want to commend your capacity for empathy despite seemingly intransigent limitations; Zoltán Janosi, Gabi Losonczi, and Farkas Bacsi—those few days I spent with you all in Nyíregyháza were some of the most poignant and transformative of my life. I will never be able to repay your immense generosity and kindness.

  An additional thanks is owed to the lovely community of people who have made returning home after my wanderings a truly wonderful and welcoming experience. This is certainly new for me. Thank you, Dan and Debbie Sternberg, for your wise words, for your patience . . . and for turning my tears into laughter. Carol and Carlo Huber, I owe you a debt for generously inviting Isaac and me into your home and heart, and for broadening our cultural horizons in the process. Thanks to Julie and Mike Zahn for being so supportive and helpful and for hosting sleepovers and playdates when I couldn’t find a sitter. To all the people at my son’s school who have helped us both feel at home and among family, I am truly grateful.

  Per, thank you for helping me translate that file, even though it was written in old Swedish. Gina, those few days that you hosted us in Murnau were transcendent. Thank you for opening up your home and your heart to total strangers. I feel I must also thank my various babysitters, on both sides of the ocean, who made it possible for me to juggle my parenting responsibilities while writing this book. And of course, my gratitude to every coffee shop and library across the world—by making yourself a haven with free WiFi, soothing ambience, and brain-jolting caffeine, you are a boon to writers temporarily displaced from home. I have been so fortunate to find anonymous yet heartfelt kindness in unexpected corners, and will try to pay that kindness forward to the next traveler I meet.

  about the author

  Deborah Feldman was raised in the Satmar Hasidic community in the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn, New York. Her first memoir, Unorthodox, was a New York Times bestseller. She is twenty-seven years old and lives in New England with her son, where she is currently working on her next book.