A Conversation with Paula Dáil
שיחה עם פאולה דייל
A writer’s only purpose is to keep civilization from destroying itself.
Why did you switch from non-fiction to fiction writing?
Non-fiction writing is basically describing something that already exists, whereas with fiction the author has total freedom to explore ideas, themes, plots and characters, which was a very appealing idea. I like the challenge of doing something different and, to be perfectly honest, wanted to test my ability to write fiction. I discovered writing fiction is much more difficult than writing non-fiction, which has a built-in structure.
With fiction, I start with an idea and see where it goes…which is always interesting, and frequently surprising. I see my role as fiction writer as getting out of the characters’ way and letting them tell the story. In this sense, I am their scribe.
I also believe fiction is a powerful vehicle through which to convey important social messages, which is my reason for being as a writer.
Why do you believe it is important to tell Jewish stories?
Despite all the Jews have endured, the Jewish culture, traditions, and spiritual beliefs have survived for five thousand years, which is truly remarkable. I feel it very important that this history of persecution, suffering, survival, and joyfully carrying on is revealed in all possible ways, because there is so much that can be learned from it. No other culture or heritage has endured so much yet continually finds a way to pick itself up, keep moving forward, and ultimately thrive. If you think about it, the Jewish story itself is amazing – and best summarized by the Purim story “They tried to kill us and we survived; let’s eat!”
The heart of Red Anemone is antisemitism – it’s costs and its consequences across generations of a German-American immigrant family. It is also a story about fear-fueled denial of self, of heritage, of culture, of traditions and spiritual beliefs, and of identity. Why do you think antisemitic hatred has plagued Jews throughout their history?
Speaking as a sociologist, this is not too surprising when you consider that the Jews, by mere fact of their survival across centuries, are a powerful population group, and the more powerful a particular group is, the more it is feared, because it threatens the status quo. Since the beginning of time, for reasons I’m not entirely clear on, Jews have been the world’s favorite scapegoat and are the first people who come to mind whenever anyone is looking for someone to hate, blame, or bully. We have been suffering this indignity for centuries, and yet, we’re still here. Jews are still making vitally important contributions to medicine, law, politics, science, music, art, and every other aspect of social culture and modern life. Perhaps this remarkable ability to survive in spite of efforts to destroy us is precisely why the Jews are so hated – we are seemingly indestructible. Six million of us were mass exterminated less than one hundred years ago, and we’re still here. While this remarkable history instills a great deal of self-assuredness in us, it seriously frustrates those who oppose us.
All of this said, America is much more nationalistic and much less welcoming than it claims to be or that most people realize. We have always been wary of immigrants, or anyone who is not a white, Anglo-Saxon protestant male. After Pearl Harbor we placed all Japanese Americans in internment camps, where they remained until the end of World War II. In 2024 we are separating immigrant children from their families, holding immigrants in detention centers across our southern border, and deporting immigrant parents of children born in the United States who are legal citizens.
What are your thoughts on the recent rise in American antisemitism?
America is a much more nationalistic and much less welcoming nation than it claims to be or that most people realize. We have always been wary of immigrants, or anyone who is not a white, Anglo-Saxon protestant male. After Pearl Harbor we placed all Japanese Americans in internment camps, where they remained until the end of World War II. In 2024 we are separating immigrant children from their families, holding immigrants in detention centers across our southern border, and deporting immigrant parents of children born in the United States who are legal citizens. There is no reason whatever that this “fear of the other” would not include Jews from the moment the first Jew set foot on American soil.
What is happening today has strong historic precedence that dramatically intensified in 2016 when the nation elected a morally vacant president whose popularity exploded out of hate-filled rhetoric promising to “Make America Great Again” by getting rid of all the bad actors who, in his mind, included everyone who wasn’t Christian and white. Even more astonishing, the evangelical right climbed right on his bandwagon, blowing trumpets and beating drums in rhythm to the MAGA theme, bolstering it with massive amounts of financial support and rhetorical reinforcement from the pulpits.
In early 2017 thousands of Christian white nationalists marched on Charlottesville, Virginia shouting the “the Jews won’t control us”. Instead of denouncing the demonstration and the hateful rhetoric, the new president proclaimed “there are good people on both sides”. These seven words sent chills through every American Jew, now forced to face the shattering reality that, once again, our country doesn’t have our backs. It’s pretty clear that even after the horrors of the Holocaust thousands of years of antisemitic hate still stand on solid footing.
The twenty-first century American reality is that neo-Nazis march openly, Jews are being murdered in their synagogues, Holocaust deniers thrive, and vocal antisemitism has infiltrated our institutions of higher learning, traditionally considered the safest environments for thrashing out opposing ideas. In 2024, the same man who, as president, refused to denounce the Charlottesville demonstration against the Jews ramped up his bullying and hate speech further than most Americans, even his supporters, ever thought possible, was re-elected to another term. Nothing – not diversity, equity, inclusion, race, sexual orientation, culture, religion, gender, or national origin is off limits or safe from his dog whistle politics, and enough Americans bought into his views to return him to power.
Complicating the issue further, on October 7, 2023, the terrorist organization Hamas, embedded in Gaza, attacked Israel. More Jews died on that day than in any single day since the Holocaust. The attack ignited a conflict that has expanded to include Hezbollah, Lebanon and Iran, dramatically intensifying the threat of a nuclear war in the Middle East. Rather than a restrained response to the Hamas attack, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, a corrupt, right-wing extremist politician, embraced a war policy resting upon a killing an ant with a steamroller philosophy. Because Hamas was embedded in the civilian population, the Israeli attacks on Gaza cost thousands of civilian lives and created a massive humanitarian crisis that has turned much of the world against the Jews, accusing them of doing to the Palestinians what the Germans did to the Jews in World War II. These allegations are grossly unfair because they ignore the fact that Hamas attacked Israel and the Germans attacked the Jews, not the other way around, and Israel, like any other sovereign nation, has a right to defend itself. Nevertheless, the accusations themselves fuel further antisemitism worldwide.
The historical truth is that, from the beginning of time, Jews have always defined warfare in terms of a moral imperative toward restraint. Maintaining peace has always taken precedence over waging war, and self-defense has been the defining principle guiding the use of violence. Jews have always been in a defensive position; they have never declared a pre-emptive strike war on anyone. Nevertheless, every hour of every day since the United Nations partitioned Palestine and granted the Jews a homeland, Israel has had to justify its existence.
Despite believing that Netanyahu should be prosecuted for war crimes against humanity because of his Gaza war policy, which is a flagrant betrayal of Jewish values, I still support the state of Israel and Israel’s right to defend itself against Hamas, or any enemy, terrorist or otherwise. I firmly believe in the Palestinian people’s right to exist and live in peace, just as much as I believe in Israel’s right to exist and the Jewish people’s right to live in peace. Even though Israel was attacked and has the absolute moral right to respond, the Palestinian suffering that has resulted is heartbreaking. While my heart rests with Israel, I have managed to make it a big enough heart to include the Palestinian people as well as my own, and I sit shiva in my heart for both the Jews and the Palestinians who have died in this conflict. I don’t need to hate Palestinians (or anyone) to feel better about myself and hope that someday they will no longer need to hate Jews to feel better about themselves.
How do you decide what to write?
It’s not a conscious decision. My experience has been that both non-fiction and fiction stories find me, so my only decision is to remain open to the stories when they start knocking around in my brain. Red Anemone is a perfect example. I have never been interested in family genealogy because both my parents were considerably younger than their siblings, and I never had living grandparents or many older family members that I was curious to know more about, until one particularly cold winter day, that suddenly changed. My sleuthing resulted in discovering a heritage that, for years, I had suspected I had some connection to and now had some confirmation of, as well as a great-grandmother who had a story to tell. Relatively quickly, enough information emerged that it became evident she’d chosen me to tell it.
How do you research a story?
I do background research the old-fashioned way. I read as much as I can; talk to as many people as I can and visit the places that are important to the story line so I can see them for myself. I’ve never written a story about a place I’ve never actually been to. But mostly I listen to what the characters are saying and where they want to story to go, and research the details accordingly.
What is your writing life like?
It’s a very simple life that fits well with my natural tendency toward introversion. I avoid a lot of distractions, especially when I’m doing a first draft. I write every day, in a space with a lovely view from a large window and watching the changes each day brings encourages me to stay present to the story as it emerges rather than trying to force my will onto it. I also work out a lot of ideas on the treadmill, reading drafts out loud to the dog, who is an amazingly willing listener, and seeking feedback from a few trusted critics. My husband, who is an award-winning writer, is particularly generous with his comments and suggestions. We rarely agree, but the discussions are always fruitful, and the work is better for them.
Otherwise, I rest my mind watching my alma mater lose on the football field, tuning into re-runs of mind-numbing TV sitcoms, watching historical dramas on PBS and Netflix.
A reality of my life is that I can't not write, so I'm always working on something.
Now that Red Anemone is in the hands of the publisher and due for release in Spring 2025, are you working on another book?
I am. Conflicted will probably be finished in late 2025.
Among the books you’ve written, which is your favorite?
The one I’m currently working on is always my favorite. Taking the wider view, Women and Poverty in 21st Century America holds a special place in my heart because of the struggling, courageous, and determined women I met while writing it. Red Anemone is very important to me because of the social message it contains.
What is the social message you hope Red Anemone conveys?
Until recently I never believed that the unimaginable could happen to the Jews again, but I’ve changed my mind. Another Holocaust is not inevitable, but absent constant vigilance and strong pushback against the antisemitic vitriol that has gained a foothold both worldwide and in America, the nation widely considered to be the leader of the free world, it’s not impossible, either. The Shoah didn’t begin with Auschwitz, it began with words, and with otherwise good people closing their ears and remaining silent in the face of the evil staring back at them.
In this context, it’s not surprising that, as a matter of safety and survival, some Jews are again choosing whatever means possible, including identity denial, to become invisible to the hostile world surrounding them. Regardless, the world would do well to remember that no matter what choice a Jew makes in a particular circumstance, their or ganuz – sacred and hidden light – is never extinguished, it just waits for an opportunity to illuminate itself again. Similarly, red anemones reappear every spring. These delicate, yet indestructible red flowers carpet the western Negev and Dvira Forest of the southern Judean foothills year after year to remind the world that even in the harshest conditions, Jews are hopeful, joyful, resilient, and determined to survive.
