Brooke Randel poignantly captures the life of her grandmother, a Holocaust survivor, as well as their special bond in her memoir Also Here.
Publishers Weekly wrote of the book:
“Randel puts her illiterate grandmother’s recollections of surviving the Holocaust on the page in this powerful debut. By turns horrific and surprisingly sweet, this will linger in readers’ minds.”
In her own words, here is Brooke Randel’s Book Notes music playlist for her memoir Also Here:
I need silence when I write. My thoughts are rather shy; they want to know the coast is clear.
Which may be ironic since my memoir Also Here: Love, Literacy, and the Legacy of the Holocaust is largely about unraveling silence, a process that began when my grandma Golda Indig asked me to write about her life. Not once or twice, but repeatedly, over the phone, until I said yes. Golda survived three Nazi concentration camps as a teenager, but didn’t speak about any of it until many, many years later. So no, this isn’t a Holocaust-related playlist, but it is a playlist of songs I leaned on through the years I spent writing, researching and editing Also Here to balance the weight of the work with levity, release and a good beat.
Cardinal – Kacey Musgraves
This song is as much about birds and omens as it is about longing. Accompanied by an acoustic, hypnotic sound, the longing is what I most connect with. In Also Here, I long to connect with my grandma, make sense of her ways (why do I lose her every time we go out in public?), and learn the painful truths that were long hidden from me.
Come on Up to the House – Joseph
Joseph, a band made up of three sisters, covers this Tom Waits song in such a haunting manner. Their voices, soft but steady, meld into one over the sparse arrangement. “Well, the moon is broken and the sky is cracked,” a single voice begins. “Come on up to the house.” Even in the darkest of moments, there’s reason to come together, to need and be needed. By my own count, my grandma’s life was saved five times during the Holocaust—twice by strangers, twice by loved ones and once by her own two feet.
Vincent – Don McLean
I like when sad songs hold a bit of hope, a little wistfulness. Inspired by Vincent Van Gogh, McClean sings, “They would not listen, they did not know how,” a line that rings true for anyone facing inexplicable, internal struggles. My grandma did not share her story for decades, in large part because no one knew how to hear it.
Kind Reminder – Proxima Parada
The first time I heard this song, something slowed in me. Something stilled. Its much-repeated lyric still gets me: “How many people survived so you could arrive?” Survival, memory and their unbelievable weight are constant themes in my work. And since I write nonfiction, in my life too.
Wedding in Finistére – Jens Lekman
Reading and writing about the Holocaust can feel like the ceiling is slowly being lowered over your head. This song lifts that feeling for me. It’s infectious, lively and mirrors the way we’re all looking to those ahead of us in life, trying to learn, observe, and maybe even understand.
ILYAF – Donna Lewis, Digital Farm Animals
My relationship with my grandma was filled with frustration and misunderstanding, but underneath it all, we had an easy love for one another. This song captures the simplicity and clarity of that kind of love. I love you, always, forever.
May I Have This Dance – Francis and the Lights ft. Chance the Rapper
I’m from Chicago, so of course I’m a fan of Chance the Rapper. But it’s the thread of joy in this song that makes it such a great relief from deep and difficult writing. “Girl, you did your thing,” Chance says and I think of her.
Where Do We Go From Here? – Misterwives
I first heard this song live when Misterwives played the Salt Shed in Chicago. I love how the song pulls you in with its racing, searching lyrics. It’s the type of immersive, moving vibe I crave in music. During the writing and research for Also Here, I listened to a lot of Misterwives.
My House – The O’My’s
The crooning, the percussion, the way this song saunters and builds—there’s a lot to savor. “Come and stand here right beside me.” This isn’t a lyric about intergenerational memory and inheritance, but it’s what I mean when I say Also Here.
Tumbalalaika – The Barry Sisters
For a book about my grandma, I’d be remiss not to include a track for Golda. She loved dancing and this Yiddish folk song was her kind of jam. It’s upbeat, jaunty and a little mischievous. Just like her. Check out Also Here to read more about the hardships and horrors she faced, and the nerve she faced them with.
Brooke Randel is a writer, editor and associate creative director in Chicago. She is the author of Also Here: Love, Literacy, and the Legacy of the Holocaust. Her writing has been published in Hippocampus, Hypertext Magazine, Jewish Fiction, SmokeLong Quarterly, and elsewhere. The granddaughter of a Holocaust survivor, she writes on issues of memory, trauma, family and history. Find more of her work at brookerandel.com.