Cover

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Title Page

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Contents

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Acknowledgments

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pp. xi-xi

Author's Query

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pp. xiv-xiv

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Prologue

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pp. 1-5

I was born Marcel Pierre Jacques Nakache on March 22, 1939, in Paris to Rita Nakache. She didn’t have a husband, and I don’t know anything about my father. The original family name was Nekhushtan, from generations back when they lived in Samarkand in the former Soviet Union. The name means copper, so they were probably jewelry makers. They...

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Introduction

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pp. 6-16

When the Landmann sisters were teenagers, their parents took them on a family trip to Germany.
When we entered Berlin, our father got so excited. “I lived here during the war,” he said. And then, two blocks later, he said, “And here . . . And here.” “How could you live in so many places?” we asked him. “Well,” he said,...

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Crypto-Jews

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pp. 17-38

I remember grandmother taking me to what I thought was a church in Mexico City. We had to sit in the women’s balcony in the back. There was a man leading the chants in a language I had never heard. I remember her saying, “Never forget who you are.” I understand now that it was a synagogue. Later, when I asked my mother what my grandmother...

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Hidden Children

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pp. 39-71

When we got to the partisans, I was weak with tuberculosis. They shaved my head because I had lice. They took away my crucifixes and told me I was Jewish. That was the lowest point in my life. I grabbed the scissors and didn’t know who to kill—myself because I was bald, sick, and Jewish, or my mother because she was the cause of it all...

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Children of Survivors

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pp. 72-97

Like many newly arrived families, we immersed ourselves in the business of making a living and fitting in. I always had the feeling that we had Jewish family or were Jewish ourselves, but I was not able to actually ask the question. When I did ask my mother about it during her last illness in 1979, her answer was, “No, we have no...

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Adoptees

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pp. 98-114

I am a forty-three-year-old adoptee who just two and a half years ago found my birth mother after a search that went on and off for twenty-two years. I always wanted to know where I came from, what my heritage was, who I was. Yes, I love my adoptive parents and we have a good relationship. They even helped me in my search. But I wanted to know what...

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Conclusions

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pp. 115-127

Paul Goldreich is a London psychoanalyst whose practice is heavily comprised of Holocaust survivors, among whom are numerous patients with reclaimed identities, identities they had to struggle to remember. He has worked with several people who were between the ages of six months and a year when they were placed in hiding at the...

Notes

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pp. 129-130