In our "ONE" series, we celebrate important women of Jewish descent who profoundly influenced Polish culture in the 20th century. Irena Szymańska was a renowned book editor of the postwar period, a brilliant translator, and a legendary regular at the iconic and influential "Czytelnik" café in Warsaw, where her companions and admirers included writer Tadeusz Konwicki and actor Gustaw Holoubek.
"She knew everything, read everything, knew everyone," wrote her friend, the renowned Polish philosopher Leszek Kołakowski . She was born over a hundred years ago, on February 17, 1921, in Łódź. She came from an assimilated, very wealthy Jewish family, the Wierniks. Her father owned a thriving scarf factory in Łódź. Szymon Wiernik was a renowned connoisseur of art, wine, and women; her beautiful mother, Róża, fled him to luxurious resorts. Irena and her sister were raised primarily by nannies and governesses.
Despite their wealth, the family was left-leaning, and in the kitchen there was always a pot of nutritious soup for the unemployed. Irena was a child prodigy, learning to read at just three years old. She later joked that to distract her from reading three books a day, which doctors said was seriously damaging her nerves, her father took her to music concerts and art exhibitions. Once a week during school, she played truant from the city library. For fun, she translated the lyrics of popular songs of the time into Latin.
She graduated from a prestigious high school in Łódź, but due to her "number clausus" at Polish universities, she went to study medicine in the Belgian city of Liège. She returned in the summer of 1939, at the dawn of World War II. She herself recalled that her experience of the occupation was less dramatic than that of others in her circle. First, she and her first husband, journalist Zygmunt Szymański , and their daughter Janina spent time in eastern Poland, which was under Soviet occupation. Then, when they returned in 1940, they hid on the Aryan side, taking advantage of their so-called "good looks."
Unfortunately, Irena's parents did not survive the occupation, becoming victims of the infamous "Hotel Polski." The outbreak of the Warsaw Uprising in 1944 found Irena Szymańska and her family near Żyrardów.
After World War II, thanks to the help of the all-powerful Jerzy Borejsza , she landed a job at the publishing house "Czytelnik." She began as a messenger, delivering pots and pans found in the publishing house's basement to writers' wives. She worked at this prestigious publishing house, on and off, for 24 years. In 1952, she graduated with a degree in Romance Philology from the University of Warsaw. During this time, she worked at the Polish Embassy in Berlin, where she met many cultural figures, including the famous German playwright and author of "Opera za grosze" (The Penny Opera), Bertolt Brecht , and his wife, the distinguished actress Helena Weigel.
From 1953 to 1958, Szymańska worked at the State Publishing Institute as editor-in-chief, specializing in Polish literature. She was friends with all Polish writers, starting with Maria Dąbrowska . She protected them from censorship and publication bans. She persuaded writers such as J. Iwaszkiewicz, A. Ważyk, K. Brandys, S. Dygat, A. Rudnicki, M. Jastrun, and A. Słonimski to collaborate with her. Miron Białoszewski debuted with her . Thanks to Szymańska, the only edition of W. Gombrowicz's "Ferdydurke" published during the communist era in 1957 was published. For this book, she was removed from that publishing house by the Central Committee of the Polish United Workers' Party (PZPR). She also disliked W. Woroszylski's publications and her support for the concept of establishing the journal "Europa," whose editorial board included the elite of Polish writers.
In 1959, the "kind and pretty editor" captivated Nikita Khrushchev himself , who greeted her effusively at a reception in Warsaw, surprising and envying Polish writers. By then, she was once again an editor at the "Czytelnik" publishing house. There, she created, among other things, the excellent "Nike" literary series. She supported Polish writers in their fight against censorship. She paid a high price for this: in 1976, she was banned from writing and from mentioning her name in print. Also that same year, she was sent into early retirement.
Szymańska loved literature, knew it well, and cultivated it herself. She wrote two popular crime novels. These were translated into several languages and, as she recalled, provided the author with several wonderful vacations abroad. She published them under the pseudonym Anna Kormik. In 1973, the "Iskry" publishing house published "Who Was Afraid of Stefan Szalej," which was also translated into Italian, Hungarian, and Czech. In 1980, the "Czytelnik" publishing house published her next book, "Silent Death." In 2001, her excellent autobiography, "I Had the Gift of Delight. Memoirs of a Publisher," was published posthumously. It was collected and edited by her husband, Ryszard Matuszewski.
Her second husband, Ryszard Matuszewski, with whom she spent 40 years, wrote: "She didn't consider herself a writer, but a publisher serving writers. A true publisher must have the gift of delight – in good literature, the world, people. She trusted people excessively. She preferred to see the world from its positive side." Politics was a constant presence in her life; when the philosopher Leszek Kołakowski was expelled from the party in 1966, she organized a "ball of the hanged," to which she invited all oppositionists. She herself said: "My leftism was rooted in the Polish Socialist Party, anti-communist. I was afraid of Stalin."
She died in 1999, "living in many eras, choosing friends in each, feeling at home in each. Culture, which needs continuity, has lost a living link of its memory in Irena Szymańska," wrote Jerzy Szperkowicz about her.
The text was originally published in "Słowo Żydowskie" (TSKŻ)
For centuries, Polish Jewish women lived on the border between two worlds, yet were not fully-fledged citizens in either. Jewish traditions bound them by a series of sometimes rigorous regulations regulating all, even the most intimate, spheres of life, while simultaneously limiting access to education. The Polish community viewed them ambivalently, as evidenced by the story of King Casimir and Esterka – they were often orientalized and sexualized through the prism of their cultural distinctiveness. Yet, they served as liaisons between the Polish and Jewish worlds. They established contacts with Polish neighbors more often than men – primarily through trade or other economic activities – and demonstrated a better command of the Polish language, even during the Holocaust. They participated in various areas of social life – education, science, and the arts, contributing a significant component to Polish cultural heritage.
Twice forgotten and censored – as women and Jews, as a doubly alien element, as the ultimate Other in the imaginarium of male-dominated Polish culture.
The Warsaw Ghetto Museum wants to help remember them – to bring back from oblivion figures and stories of significant Polish Jewish women and their cultural influences. We present a new series of columns devoted to Polish Jewish women – women of art, cinema, and literature; writers, translators, actresses, and all those who co-created Polish culture.
