On the border between cultures and history: writer Radka Denemarková on her residency in Jerusalem

9. 9. 2025
On the border between cultures and history: writer Radka Denemarková on her residency in Jerusalem

Czech writer Radka Denemarková took part in a residency at the prestigious Mishkenot Sha'ananim cultural center in Jerusalem this year. In this interview, you can read about her unique experiences during her residency in Jerusalem. The author shares her impressions of the city, which she perceives not only as the epicenter of world religions, but also as a place where everyday life turns into a novel. She talks about her encounters with local people, why it is important for her to be in the places she writes about, and how intense it is to live in an environment marked by conflict, but at the same time full of authenticity and profound human interactions.

How did you like your stay in Jerusalem? How did the environment in which you spent your residency affect you?

I must be in places I write about and think about. One must experience the places and the time personally to get to the core of things. But it’s not just about closing oneself off. Encounters with local people were important for me. I deliberately want to meet people from all social groups and opinions in every country. I have formed many friendships. The perspective of literature differs; it’s not about pigeonholing people, but about viewing the person. The Czech-German-Jewish relationships are my essential, lifelong theme. Besides literary studies, I have written about this topic, among other works, in novels such as “Money from Hitler” (2006), “Hours of Lead” (2018), and in an essayistic book about the Holocaust titled “As If It All Happened Yesterday” (2021).

The presence of Jewish and German elements in the culture of the Czech lands was either distorted or hidden, due to nationalist and class reasons. The theme of Czech-Jewish-German relations remained a deep taboo in the Czech territory until the 1990s. Germans were expelled, and Jews were either dead or exiled. And they carried with them the history of Europe into the state of Israel as well.

This year, I was invited to Israel as part of “Marie’s Residency at the Rothschild Foundation.” This residency program invites writers to stay longer in the cities of Jerusalem and Venice, aiming to provide time for work, public lectures, and a deeper understanding of these places. Time for focused work is the most valuable, and I try to make the most of it every time. Previous participants have included artists like Anita and Kiran Desai or Joshua Cohen, the Pulitzer Prize-winning author of fiction in 2022. Delphine Horvilleur was invited last year.

I am going to Venice in October. I visited Jerusalem in May between reading series in Canada, the USA, and Taiwan, countries where issues are also escalating and raising questions even for us Europeans. I live on the move this year. I spent almost a month in Israel and Palestine (which was only possible with accompaniment and on a motorcycle). The residency itself is located in the center of Jerusalem, in Mishkenot Sha’ananim, which supports culture through residency programs and serves as a home for artists. Mishkenot Sha’ananim is also a significant intellectual commitment for me, as before me (at the "Maurice M. Dwek Guest House," where I stayed), notable figures like Paul Auster, Saul Bellow, Simone de Beauvoir, Isaac Stern, Jean-Paul Sartre, Erri de Luca, Umberto Eco, Alain Finkielkraut, Emir Kusturica, the Dalai Lama, Lang Lang, Herman Wouk, Etgar Keret, Nicole Krauss, and Amos Oz have stayed here.

Jerusalem itself is like the epicenter of world religions. Jerusalem is not just a city; it’s a vision. Every day is intense, and every day is a novel. A city where Jews, Christians, and Muslims live side by side. Time here has a different value: a thousand years means nothing. It was an extraordinary experience. A city free of tourists, accustomed to the presence of the army, sirens, hiding in bunkers, even at Tel Aviv airport. At the same time, I experienced deeply moving moments. When the times are disjointed, there’s no room for lies; people are authentic.

What did you work on during your stay?

I am working on two novels that I have outlined, and mainly on an essayistic book: the current situation in Israel raises many questions for the whole world and forces us to think in context. The text captures everyday life in Israel during escalating tensions. This experience is part of everything I have lived through this spring. I have the nickname "swallow," and it feels as if I am flying over continents and countries, aware that everything is interconnected, no country is an island, and nothing is black-and-white as the media portrays. There are also many parallels. Even Europe is shaped by entanglements of the past, remnants of injustice, power divisions, collective guilt, and collective victims. For example, in our country, the expulsion of Germans created an atmosphere where political opponents could be eliminated without raising alarm, growing accustomed to life without rights and laws. These are the moral consequences of mass displacement. If it’s possible to punish someone for their national affiliation, later it might be for membership in a particular social group, political party, or religion. The future will not boast of the moment that introduced the concept of collective guilt. There are other questions. Trauma is in the air of Europe. It’s scandalous that the Holocaust occurred in a civilized, cultural, industrially advanced Europe, founded on Christian principles and phrases about loving one’s neighbor. It’s scandalous that it happened in Europe. That such a thing is even possible. That we allowed it. We all allowed it. And it still has consequences today—cultural, ethical, political.

Let’s not ask about reality; let’s ask about meaning. We need to redefine our world and culture. I am interested in why so few people follow a firm, internalized system of values. Most need laws, structures, controls. But when a historical rupture or shock occurs, many are capable of anything, including torture or killing. And that terrifies me. Because even today, we must emphasize that it is monstrous to judge someone based on skin color, appearance, nationality, or religion. At the same time, no one can justify that it was or is due to the times we live or lived in. Specific people are guilty. The problem is not just totalitarianism; it is the mentality of a society that is infected with totalitarianism. All of these are topics of the text.

At the end of my stay, I presented a film in Jerusalem, which I was able to choose and recommend myself. It was the film "Green Border" ("Hranice") directed by Agnieszka Holland. I was also one of the main guests at the “Jerusalem International Writers Festival 2025.” Writer Yossi Avni-Levy, in the presence of my excellent publisher Yoav Reiss and the great head of the Czech Center in Tel Aviv, Jan Štern, and the future ambassador of Israel to the Czech Republic, sensitively introduced the Hebrew edition of my novel "Money from Hitler" to the audience.

The Jerusalem Festival is one of Israel’s most significant cultural events, attracting influential writers from around the world to the cultural center in Mishkenot Sha’ananim. It makes me increasingly happy that my literature is being recognized abroad among the greatest contemporary writers. Inspiring and intense discussions took place among the festival participants, including Bernard-Henri Lévy, Ariana Harwicz, Michel Houellebecq, Gábor T. Szántó, Maxim Biller, Shalom Auslander, Payam Feili, Abigail Assor, Mikolaj Lodzinski, Michal Hvorecký, and Volker Weidermann. Of course, there were also meetings with the local press and interviews, for example with the Israeli newspaper Yedioth Aharonot, as well as meetings with university and high school students.

How beneficial was the stay for you personally and for your work?

I feel as if I have been in Jerusalem for decades. I need some distance, because this year as a whole is exceptional. Even here, it has been confirmed to me that reducing democracy to business is not a good path. And that a morally thinking and acting person cannot retreat into the position of an observer. We must maintain the positions we have fought for, especially in the area of human rights, and that requires strength. The Hebrew edition of the novel "Money from Hitler" has received excellent reviews, ranking it among world literature; local interpretations saw a parallel with current problems and, regarding the theme of guilt, also a connection with Franz Kafka. The book’s main character, Gita Lauschmannová, is a fictional figure in a highly stylized metaphorical story who has absorbed the problems of the last century. Yet the book speaks of the present in a vivid and emotional way. Gita shares traits with characters from ancient drama. She was born into a German-speaking Jewish family in Bohemia, just like Kafka. And she loves Bohemia. Because she grew up in an assimilated family, she had no idea she was Jewish. Then, as a child, she ends up in a concentration camp, where she receives her first “label.” When she returns home, she finds there is nowhere to return to. She gets yet another label for speaking German: she is marked as a Nazi. And she tries her whole life to attain justice. She is trapped by political and social dogmas, but above all by the irrationality of human existence. Despite all this—and this is what makes her a positive character for me—she never gives up. Her whole life, she believed that hope awaited around the corner, that everything would change, and that she would find reconciliation. In the story, I wanted to show that nothing is black and white, that lives are complicated, that people change and must be able to admit what they have done, and how much memory fails. Everyone gropes around and gradually “adjusts” their story so they can keep breathing. So how can we be sure of the constructs of historians, politicians about other people? What is truth? The essence of an era and truth itself can only be expressed in fiction. It is paradoxical that the truth of a novel is the most complex and encompasses the essence of human existence from birth to death.

Trust and respect for my work have only confirmed to me here that I am on the right path and that literature has great meaning. Thanks to my friendship with Haim Weiss, I also met the families of abducted people during demonstrations and felt the strength of their humanism as they refused to have other civilians killed in their name. Israel can only be understood on site, especially at this time. I had many meetings, official but mainly unofficial, including invitations into families. I am deeply grateful for this boundless trust. Today, a populist undertone is being encouraged and exploited by demagogues in many countries around the world, whether in traditional or newer democracies. There is a lack of humanism. Literature confirms that there are countless ways of "perception," that the words we think in can be cleansed and used "differently," and that freedom of creation knows no bounds. The fight for freedom and for critical thinking is difficult in every era and never ends. The concept of collective guilt and collective victories is perverse. And nationalism today is even more perverse, because it spits out only a single question: “Where are you from?” Let’s ask another, more essential question: “Who are we?”

The best thing about democracy is that only it can ensure the rule of law. And freedom is to society what health is to every person. Where justice ends, tyranny begins. The unsatisfied desire of a single person is enough for a whole state to collapse into chaos. The question is simple: the masses or the individual? Open democracy or totalitarianism? We are living in exciting times. Authoritarian and totalitarian regimes have always had, and still have, great appeal for millions of people. It is our duty to prevent the abuse of power, out of respect for life. Literature is a synthesis of all forms of courage, art, love, friendship, and thought, which enables people not to be slaves: to live literature in this way is the purest form of love for life. Even in Israel, I met artists who defend truth, human rights, and human dignity in their works. This is our common task. I am curious to see how the residency in Venice will surprise me, to which I will be moving after readings in Armenia and Spain…

More news