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Uri Shulevitz, 89, Acclaimed Children’s Book Author and Illustrator, Dies

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Uri Shulevitz, 89, Acclaimed Children’s Book Author and Illustrator, Dies

Uri Shulevitz, a Polish-born children’s book author and illustrator who survived a harrowing childhood traversing Europe to escape the Nazis and wove those experiences into arresting works like “How I Learned Geography” and the graphic novel “Chance: Escape from the Holocaust,” died on Feb. 15 in Manhattan. He was 89.

His death, in a hospital, was from complications of the flu and pneumonia, said his wife, Paula S. Brown, his only survivor.

Mr. Shulevitz, who had settled in New York City, published more than 40 books, some of them collaborations with other authors. In 1969, he won a Caldecott Medal, the annual award recognizing the most distinguished children’s picture book published in the United States, for his Bruegel-esque illustrations for Arthur Ransome’s “The Fool of the World and the Flying Ship,” a retelling of an Eastern European folk tale.

He earned Caldecott Honors, designating runner-up status, for three of his own books, including “The Treasure” (1979), about an old man’s search for a hidden treasure, with illustrations that “glow with what might well be taken for celestial light,” Kirkus Reviews noted, and “Snow” (1998), the story of a boy who seemingly wills a snowstorm into existence to the surprise of skeptical adults.

His other Honors designation came for “How I Learned Geography” (2008), which drew from his experiences as a boy fleeing his family’s home in Warsaw after Germany invaded Poland in September 1939. “I vividly remember the streets caving in, the buildings burning, and a bomb falling into the stairwell of our apartment building one day when I was home,” he recalled in a 1971 interview.

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A grueling journey led the family to what is now Kazakhstan, then a Soviet republic. “Night after night, I went to bed hungry,” he said in a 2020 interview with Kirkus. “And when I say hungry, I don’t mean that there was kind of a meager supper — there was nothing, absolutely nothing.”

The young protagonist in “Geography” embarks on a similar odyssey, finding safety from war, if little else, in the “far, far east.” The boy is outraged when his father returns from a bazaar with a giant, brilliantly colored map instead of bread. But soon he is transfixed, imagining travel to far-flung places of beauty and abundance as a way to escape his dirt-floor dwelling.

“Chance” (2020), intended for middle-school readers, chronicles Mr. Shulevitz’s peripatetic years between the ages of 4 and 14, when he sought solace in drawing and his mother’s stories to distract himself from the hardships he knew. The title, he said, referred to the idea that living or dying in the war often amounted purely to chance, he told Publishers Weekly in 2020: “No one knew what would happen.”

Despite the Nazi shadow looming over his childhood, Mr. Shulevitz made it clear that he was a wartime refugee, not a Holocaust survivor. “We weren’t either in the ghetto or in the concentration camps,” he told Kirkus.

But “none of our family in Poland survived,” he added. And if his immediate family hadn’t escaped, he said, “we would have been just as they were.”

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Uri Shulevitz, an only child, was born on Feb. 27, 1935, in Warsaw. His father painted signs and designed theatrical sets and costumes; his mother enjoyed numerous artistic hobbies. Uri was drawing by the time he was 3, before the conflagration of World War II.

After the war ended, the family returned west, landing in a displaced persons camp in Germany before settling in Paris in 1947. Two years later, they moved to Israel during its second year as a nation. At 15, Uri became the youngest artist represented in a group drawing exhibition at the Tel Aviv Museum of Art. He continued working toward an art career as a student at the Institute for Israeli Art and by studying privately with the modernist painter Yehezkel Streichman.

At 24, after a mandatory stint in the Israeli military and a year toiling on a kibbutz near the Dead Sea, he moved to New York. There, he studied painting at the Brooklyn Museum Art School and made ends meet by doing illustrations for Hebrew children’s books.

He published his first children’s book, “The Moon in My Room,” in 1963, telling the story of a boy who imagines an entire world — complete with sun, moon, stars and flowers — in his bedroom. It was a success, and set the course for his career.

After receiving a Guggenheim Fellowship, Mr. Shulevitz published “The Travels of Benjamin of Tudela: Through Three Continents in the Twelfth Century” (2005), about a medieval Jewish traveler who embarks on a 14-year journey from his hometown in Spain to see the distant lands of the Bible.

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While many of Mr. Shulevitz’s books were short, with minimal text, he pushed back against the idea that a 30-something-page book was easy to churn out. “Chance,” he once said, took four years to finish.

“We all know how difficult it is to say something concisely, whereas to use many words is much easier,” he said in a 1986 interview with The Horn Book Magazine, which is devoted to children’s and young adult literature. “There were some well-known authors who have written some very successful books for adults,” he added, “and then when they tried writing something which they thought was a picture book, they did not succeed.”

A painter as well as an illustrator, he exhibited his work in numerous galleries and museums, including the Art Institute of Chicago and the Jewish Museum in New York.

The New York Times Book Review ranked “Chance” among the 25 best children’s books of 2020, and it cited Mr. Shulevitz in its lists of the 10 best-illustrated children’s books of the year in 1978, 1979 and 1997.

Mr. Shulevitz’s final book, “The Sky Was My Blanket: A Young Man’s Journey Across Wartime Europe,” is to be published in August. It is based on the story of his uncle Yehiel Szulewicz, who fought the fascists in the Spanish Civil War and, later, the Nazis as a member of the French resistance.

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Throughout his career, Mr. Shulevitz strove to find meaning in the agonizing experiences of his youth. In “Chance,” he recalled how he was forced to leave his temporary home in the East before a friend could finish reading him the L. Frank Baum novel “The Wizard of Oz.”

“I didn’t realize at the time, when I was listening to ‘The Wizard of Oz,’ how our trip back to the West would resemble in some ways the hardships of Dorothy in trying to get back to Kansas,” he told Kirkus Reviews. “It actually has very deep echoes.”

He added: “It wasn’t all a painful experience to work on the book. It was also a journey of discovery.”

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Hunting For Lexapro Clocks, Viagra Neckties and Other Vintage Pharmaceutical Merch

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Hunting For Lexapro Clocks, Viagra Neckties and Other Vintage Pharmaceutical Merch

Zoe Latta, a co-founder of the fashion brand Eckhaus Latta, saw the clock on Instagram and started searching for pharma swag on eBay. “It was just a hole I got in,” she said. Latta soon rounded up some examples at “Rotting on the Vine,” her Substack newsletter, describing them as “silly byproducts of our sick sad world.”

Pharma swag feels somewhat like Marlboro Man merch — “like this very specific modality of our culture that’s changed,” Latta said, adding, “At first, I thought it was ironic and cheeky. But it’s also so dark.”

In particular, swag like the OxyContin mugs that read “The One to Start With. The One to Stay With” is regarded as highly collectible and highly contentious. Jeremy Wells, a newspaper owner and editor in Olive Hill, Ky., remembered, for example, seeing the mugs sold at a Dollar Tree in New Boston, Ohio, in the late 1990s or early 2000s. “At the same moment that the epidemic is blowing up,” he said.

“You can do a chicken-and-egg argument, and I doubt very seriously that those mugs made anybody get addicted,” he said. “But I do feel like things like those mugs did add to the mystique and the aura of seduction.” (After a protracted lawsuit, Purdue Pharma, the maker of OxyContin, has been dissolved and is on the hook to pay more than $5 billion in criminal penalties for fueling the opioid epidemic.)

“I was surprised to see how much this stuff was selling for in general — there is demand,” Latta said, pointing to a vintage Xanax photo frame listed for $230. Latta said she could imagine buying it for a friend who takes Xanax on planes (“if it was at a thrift store for under $10”) or maybe a pair of Moderna aviator sunglasses that she found, which seem to nod at Covid vaccines and the signature Biden eyewear, she said.

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Pharmacore — medical-branded pieces worn as fashion — has found new expression at the confluence of identity, medicine and commerce, and at a time when skepticism toward pharmaceuticals is at a high (see: the MAHA movement).

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He’s your ex, not your son. Unconditional love does not apply

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He’s your ex, not your son. Unconditional love does not apply

Goth Shakira wears a Blumarine jacket, vintage Jean Paul Gaultier top from Wild West Social House, Jane Wade bra and Ariel Taub earrings.

My ex-boyfriend, whom I just got out of a relationship with, had a pure heart and was a loyal lover. However, he lacked ambition and his family didn’t have the best values. I don’t see myself raising children with him because I don’t want my kids to be surrounded by his family. (I broke up with him on the night of his birthday because his sister got violent with me.) We dated for over a year and I’d always be the one to take care of the check when we’d go out on dates. He had no network, so we would always hang out with my friends and colleagues. Am I wrong for leaving him? Is his loyalty worth going through all that?

Girl. (“Girl” is a gender-neutral term of endearment, by the way.) I’m going to need you to take a deep breath, look at your gorgeous self in the mirror and relish in the fact that you have made the right decision.

First, let’s focus on the good. Loyalty and purity of heart are beautiful traits that many, many people on this earth have. When you find someone who does, and then combine that with your attraction and attachment to this person (along with the reality that many, many people also lack these traits), it makes sense that you’d be feeling like your ex is a rare find that you might not encounter again. However, you can care for someone, and also acknowledge the truth that the life they are setting themself up for is not the life you envision living — or, crucially, the life that you envision your children living. A long-term partnership is so much more than love. It requires a shared vision for fulfillment and happiness, based on compatible values. It necessitates a wholeness from both parties, wherein two individuals take ownership and accountability over their own success and well-being. It is loving to let someone go so they can live their life in peace and free of judgment, and even find someone else whose version of an ideal life more closely matches theirs. Most importantly, letting someone go who you know is not aligned with the life you want to live is a deeply self-loving act.

The meaning I glean from your words is this: It’s not so much that you yearn for him romantically and fear you made a mistake simply because your life is empty without him. (In fact, it sounds like you were the one adding a lot of value to his otherwise limited existence through your resources.) It seems that you feel guilty for leaving him behind as you went on to pursue a better life for yourself. That kind of feeling is more caretaking, and dare I say maternal, than loving (at least the kind associated with romantic partnership). He’s your ex, not your son. Unconditional love is only healthy and appropriate in the context of a parent-child relationship, and that’s not the situation here. People who engage in romantic relationships with men — women, femmes, gay men, etc. — are socialized to be ever-forgiving, to have infinite patience and compassion. The lines get blurred when you do feel kindness and genuine compassion for someone you care about. It can be difficult to discern when you’re being too harsh, and when you’re just setting a healthy boundary. Society makes it difficult for us in that way. But we don’t have to succumb to that pressure.

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You can’t fall in love with someone’s potential. If a person, especially a man, shows up to a relationship as someone you can’t envision spending an extended period of time with, then that’s not your person. Not only is it impossible to truly “fix” or “change” anyone, it’s simply not an efficient or productive use of your precious energetic and material resources. Of course, we all change over time, and hopefully in positive ways. But that change needs to be self-directed, coming from within each individual. “Change” exerted on another through force robs the receiving party of the dignity of authoring their own life path. Even the verbiage of your question indicates that you’ve already extended a lot of generosity and patience toward someone who didn’t feel like working toward social and financial independence, and setting boundaries with their family should have been a top priority. I can sense your exhaustion underneath the guilt. That’s the root of the matter. And what matters is you.

I can sense your exhaustion underneath the guilt.

Loss is just space. It can hurt and feel empty at first. But it also allows you the room you need to expand your world with abundance, not shrink it and drain it into scarcity. Affirm in your heart and in your mind that love itself is an infinite resource. If you channel the patience and generosity that you once put into your ex into a life where you are fulfilled to the utmost, the right person (or people) will find you.

And, girl. Some time from now, when you are loved by a man who takes his own dignity seriously, and supports you in the feminine energy of rest and calm that you deserve to experience and embody, you will be so grateful to this current version of you that had the courage to let go. I’m proud of you.

Photography Eugene Kim
Styling Britton Litow
Hair and Makeup Jaime Diaz
Visual Direction Jess Aquino de Jesus
Production Cecilia Alvarez Blackwell
Photo Assistant Joe Elgar
Styling Assistant Wendy Gonzalez Vivaño

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She Had Seen Her in Photos. Then They Met in Real Life.

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She Had Seen Her in Photos. Then They Met in Real Life.

The kiss finally happened at a Halloween party Chatterjee hosted at her apartment, while the two were watching “American Psycho” on the couch at 3 a.m., when everyone else had gone out for food. “We’re sitting so close our legs are touching and I’m freaking out,” Braggins said.

“I looked at Abby, and I was like, ‘I’d rather kiss you than watch this,’” Chatterjee said. So they did. About a month later, they were official.

On April 10, Braggins suggested they take a trip to Home Goods in Brooklyn. When they ended up at Coney Island Beach instead, Chatterjee was none the wiser. It was an early morning, so the two, along with the dog they adopted together, Willow, enjoyed having the beach to themselves.

Braggins ran ahead with Willow and crouched behind some rocks. When Chatterjee got a glimpse of Willow, there was a bandanna tied around her neck. It said, “Will you marry me?” Braggins pulled out a shell with a ring in it. The answer was yes.

A few days before, Chatterjee had proposed to Braggins amid a gloomy, cloudy sky on top of the Empire State Building.

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The two were married on April 21 at the New York City Marriage Bureau, in front of three guests, by Guohuan Zhang, a city clerk. Afterward, they celebrated at Bungalow, an Indian restaurant in the East Village, with a few more friends.

Though Chatterjee’s parents were not present at the wedding, one of the couple’s most meaningful moments came in 2023, when Braggins traveled to India to meet Chatterjee’s family for the first time. Chatterjee had never brought a partner home before, and she had warned Braggins that same-sex relationships were still not widely accepted there. But by the end of the trip, Chatterjee’s mother had embraced Braggins as family, telling her, “I have two daughters now.”

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