Paper Brigade

Self-por­trait by Sam­my Harkham

This piece orig­i­nal­ly appeared in a JBC email on Fri­day, August 29. Sign up here for our emails to be one of the first to know the lat­est Jew­ish lit­er­ary news!

Bec­ca Kan­tor: I first became aware of your work when your bril­liant graph­ic nov­el Blood of the Vir­gin came out last year. What are some con­ti­nu­ities between that book and the cov­er you cre­at­ed for the 2025 issue of Paper Brigade? (The LA set­ting is one of the first things that comes to my mind … )

Sam­my Harkham: I def­i­nite­ly have my life­long pre­oc­cu­pa­tions, so there are like­ly con­nec­tions between all my projects. Both Blood of the Vir­gin and the Paper Brigade cov­er reflect an end­less fas­ci­na­tion with the dynam­ics of Los Ange­les. Visu­al­ly, it can be a worn-down city, with its best days behind it. There’s bit­ter­sweet beau­ty in some­thing irre­triev­ably lost. In my nov­el, that theme is con­veyed through set­ting, lay­ing the ground­work for all kinds of ideas and plots: Hol­ly­wood in the sev­en­ties, mar­i­tal dis­con­tent, all kinds of sex jokes, dis­placed Jews, the tyran­ny of time, ambi­tion, and par­ent­hood. The set­ting of Los Ange­les (at least how I envi­sion it) glued all those ideas togeth­er. On top of that, cul­tur­al­ly, Los Ange­les is an immi­grant city where cul­tures don’t nec­es­sar­i­ly blend but can thrive dis­tinct­ly. It is, in many ways, more a Mex­i­can city than an Amer­i­can one. It is intense­ly and beau­ti­ful­ly diverse. The cov­er reflects Sephardic and Ashke­nazi strands of Judaism, as does Blood of the Vir­gin, as does this city and my own family. 

BK: Could you tell me a bit about your cre­ative process?

SH: I sketch look­ing for images that trig­ger some­thing. The ini­tial draw­ing is always a door­way that hope­ful­ly leads to a bread­crumb trail of more ideas. I don’t try to under­stand these ideas; I trust my sub­con­scious to get the thing where it wants to go. I find that once the piece is done and some time has passed, I can see clear­ly what my sub­con­scious mind was doing, down to each indi­vid­ual element. 

BK: I’m struck by the way you embed­ded small cues into the cov­er illus­tra­tion — the ham­sa; the por­trait of the Ben Ish Chai, a ven­er­at­ed schol­ar, Kab­bal­ist, and chief rab­bi of Bagh­dad — to indi­cate that the inte­ri­or we see is a Jew­ish home. How did you come up with these details?

SH: The cov­er prompt was books and read­ing,” and that makes me think of Shab­bat in the after­noon, which makes me think of being present and at peace. But inher­ent in that idea is an end to peace, since Shab­bat inevitably comes to a close at sun­down. Hence the hori­zon line: it’s a con­sid­er­a­tion of what unknown forces may be com­ing. The archi­tec­ture reflects Span­ish Revival design, sug­gest­ing that cul­tures fad­ed from the region once Mex­i­co and Amer­i­ca acquired Cal­i­for­nia in the 1800s. The pic­ture of the Ben Ish Chai con­nects that con­cept to Bagh­dad, anoth­er place of dis­place­ment. A place where one in four peo­ple were Jews and that had served as a cen­ter of Jew­ish life since the destruc­tion of the beit hamik­dash. Yet Baghdad’s Jews — my father among them — were per­se­cut­ed and turned into refugees in prac­ti­cal­ly an instant. A thou­sand years of Baby­lon­ian Jew­ish cul­ture, over in the blink of an eye. What feels per­ma­nent, then, is an illu­sion. Maybe the Shab­bat peace of the last eighty years in Amer­i­ca is over, and some­thing new is on the way. So the ham­sa is a nod to the idea that regard­less of what we per­ceive as good” or bad” in our dai­ly for­tunes, at the end of the day, we live in God’s hands.

BK: Last­ly, could you name a Jew­ish book that inspired you? How did it influ­ence your work?

SH: Hard to pick one, but for now I will say The Mag­ic Bar­rel by Bernard Mala­mud. Besides being pure dessert in the form of sto­ries, it is a sol­id reminder that you can write from a tru­ly idio­syn­crat­ic place. Read­ers will engage with the work very deeply because of the extra effort you put in to wres­tle with cul­tures and val­ues they may be unfa­mil­iar with. 

This piece orig­i­nal­ly appeared in a JBC email on Fri­day, August 29. Sign up here for our emails to be one of the first to know the lat­est Jew­ish lit­er­ary news!

Bec­ca Kan­tor is the edi­to­r­i­al direc­tor of Jew­ish Book Coun­cil and its annu­al print lit­er­ary jour­nal, Paper Brigade. She received a BA in Eng­lish from the Uni­ver­si­ty of Penn­syl­va­nia and an MA in cre­ative writ­ing from the Uni­ver­si­ty of East Anglia. Bec­ca was award­ed a Ful­bright fel­low­ship to spend a year in Esto­nia writ­ing and study­ing the coun­try’s Jew­ish his­to­ry. She lives in Brooklyn.