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3 Entries
Jaclyn (Jax) Harris
May 30, 2011
There is rarely a professor (or even a man) who can peer into the souls of others with such a profound mixture of compassion, humor, pity, and camaraderie as Michael Bernstein. He possessed the uncanny ability to introduce a student to themselves with a mesmerizing and captivating eloquence that, although he was a man of words, exceeded them. He didn’t introduce us to characters and history, he poured us through time, using the novel as a sieve through which to capture the essence of ourselves and the human experience. His lectures were not something you heard, they were something you felt. His genius was the aura encompassing every sarcastic, brilliant remark he made; his humanity was what gave his intellect insight and life.
After finishing the Proust course, I wrote to Professor Bernstein about my intensely emotional reaction to finishing the novel. In a response e-mail, he wrote, “one so rarely does send such expressions of one’s heart’s core--- whether that is from instinctive self-protectiveness, cowardice, or an intuition they wouldn’t be understood in the ways one needs and wants them to be.” I do not believe that anyone who had the pleasure of meeting Professor Bernstein could misunderstand my respect for and admiration of him. He was my semester’s Virgil, and even as I am writing this now I am struck by the strange desire that he should read this and approve of my description of him, for there are few people I have desired the high opinion of as much as Professor Bernstein.
"Now there is one thing I can tell you: you will enjoy certain pleasures you would not fathom now. When you still had your mother you often thought of the days when you would have her no longer. Now you will often think of days past when you had her. When you are used to this horrible thing that they will forever be cast into the past, then you will gently feel her revive, returning to take her place, her entire place, beside you. At the present time, this is not yet possible. Let yourself be inert, wait till the incomprehensible power ... that has broken you restores you a little, I say a little, for henceforth you will always keep something broken about you. Tell yourself this, too, for it is a kind of pleasure to know that you will never love less, that you will never be consoled, that you will constantly remember more and more." – Marcel Proust
With deep sorrow and affection,
Jaclyn (Jax) Harris
May 29, 2011
I mourn the sad loss of my friend, my son-in-law and a unique human being. There was only one Michael Andre Bernstein and his insight and observations will linger with us always. Vivian Sachs.
May 29, 2011
My deepest sympathies to Dalya and the girls, Amitai and Oriane, on the tragic loss of a loved husband and father.
You are in my thoughts.
Michael Alexander
(cousin UK)
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