The Diario is a chronicle of diaspora. Originally written in Ladino, or Judeo-Spanish, the book tells the story of two brothers’ journey from Smyrna (now known as Izmir), Turkey to New York City over the course of four months. The brothers, Alfred (Ephraim) and Albert Ascher, did not initially intend to go to America; they were hoping to seek refuge in Greece until the war ended, then return to their family in Smyrna. However, immigrant tales are rarely straightforward. The brothers faced many obstacles to their original plan. Their identity as French Jews in the Ottoman Empire proved to be dangerous and complicated, and they wanted a new start somewhere where they could lay down roots. When they befriended a man headed for the United States, the brothers changed their course.
I read this book out of order, as suggested by Gloria J. Ascher, the translator of her uncle’s diary: I started by reading both parts of the story in English, then turned to the original Ladino for practice in a language with which I am unfamiliar. I compared the side-by-side translations, effectively learning new words and phrases in Ladino. Finally, I concluded my reading by turning to the foreword and introduction. Of course, one can read this book straight through and still understand the story. But Ascher’s recommendation is not without reason; on the first page of the introduction, she writes, “ … the reader is urged not to continue reading this introduction before savoring a bit of the diario itself, thus assuring a direct, personal first encounter.” This is quite an interesting strategy — to hear the story in the writer’s own words before turning to the context provided. It allows readers to go on the journey alongside Alfred and Albert.
While the story of Diario itself is compelling — full of memories of perilous voyages across the sea and hiding identities to cross borders — it is more so the very existence of this book that readers will find significant. According to Ascher, many of the book’s events may have been recorded up to fifty years after their occurrence. The current iteration of Diario compiles decades’ worth of recollections and reflections. The language element of this story is also fascinating. Alfred’s Ladino is peppered with American English, French, Spanish, Greek, Turkish, and Hebrew influences. It is a mix of the many languages that existed within his vernacular, both when he originally wrote the diary and in hindsight fifty years later.
Many people collaborated to piece these snippets of language together, making sense of words now used only in a handful of Jewish communities and families today. In the book’s introduction, Ascher acknowledges the various groups, classes, family members, and community members that recalled old family stories and helped translate the diary from the original language. They are all doing the work of keeping the Ladino language alive and thriving up to the present.
The increased number of online courses and communities post-pandemic has provided people with new opportunities to learn Ladino, converse with fellow speakers, and educate themselves about the language’s history. One could say that the translation of Diario served a similar purpose: it brought communities around the world together to preserve a small but significant piece of history.
Isadora Kianovsky (she/her) is the Development Associate at Jewish Book Council and has loved Jewish books since she was about eight years old. She graduated from Smith College in 2023 with a B.A. in Jewish Studies and a minor in History. Prior to working at JBC, she interned at the Hadassah-Brandeis Institute, the Jewish Women’s Archive, and also studied abroad a few times to learn about different aspects of Jewish culture and history. Outside of work, she loves to read, write, and spend time with her loved ones (and dog, Sweeney).
