One of my favorite movies to rewatch is Crossing Delancey. The Mathematician and I saw it on the day it came out, which happened to be two months to the day since our wedding. And I was just barely pregnant with the Girlchild. I often have very personal memories attached to my recollections about movies. Why this should be, I have no idea. But I remember the exact circumstances of seeing Star Wars, When Harry Met Sally, Animal House, Saturday Night Fever, Groundhog Day and dozens of other movies on the weekends they opened.
And still, Crossing Delancey is one of my favorites, partly because it’s set on Manhattan’s lower east side, and partly because of the way it pokes fun at literary pretentions, and partly (a big part) because of [[Reizl Bozyk]], who spent sixty years performing in Manhattan’s Yiddish theaters. She played Bubbie (Amy Irving’s grandmother) in the stage production of Crossing Delancey and then carried that role over to the film. This picture is from one of the best scenes of the movie, when Bubbie (on the left) finagles Amy Irving’s character (middle) into meeting with a matchmaker (on the right).
The reason all this came to mind is that I’ve been thinking about fruit trees and whether to plant a couple, and the idea of plums came into my head. Which brought to mind a poem recited by the obnoxious narcissistic novelist character thatAmy Irving’s character has a (totally inexplicable) crush on, to her Bubbie’s consternation. So I have to go watch the movie again, right now, no matter how late it is. I’ll leave you with the poem.
Ripe plums are falling Now there are only five May a fine lover come for me while there is still time Ripe plums are falling Now there are only three May a fine lover come for me while there is still time Ripe plums are falling I gather them in a shallow basket May a fine lover come for me tell me his name.