From Goodreads:
Fermin Rocker was born in the East End of London in 1907, the son of Rudolf Rocker, the famous anarchist theorist, activist and disciple of Kropotkin. A book illustrator, and painter, in exploring his origins as an artist, Fermin conjures a moving and colorful picture of his remarkable father, of Anarchism and of the Jewish East End. Heavily illustrated by the author.
This slim memoir is about half perceptive and well-written anecdotes illuminating a very particular time and culture, and about half with the same subject but kind of dry. Possibly the parts I found dry would be more interesting if I knew anything about the anarchists he was describing. The illustrations, unsurprisingly, are lovely.
Fermin Rocker (his real name) was very close to his German father, who was interned during WWI along with Rocker's mother. This, like his account of the war and the splitting of anarchists over the Russian Revolution, is a heavy topic that he treats with delicacy without glossing it over. But just as much of the book is about the things he happened to remember from his childhood, from his childhood habit of peeing down on cops from off his balcony to his father's bedtime stories to the anarchist who gets treated to a lavish meal from an anonymous donor who turns out to be a local Mafia leader impressed by anyone who had two detectives tailing him at all times.
Rocker comes across as a good guy, both idealistic and willing to question his assumptions. Also, based on a photo at the back of the book, he was really hot stuff when he was a young man.

Fermin Rocker was born in the East End of London in 1907, the son of Rudolf Rocker, the famous anarchist theorist, activist and disciple of Kropotkin. A book illustrator, and painter, in exploring his origins as an artist, Fermin conjures a moving and colorful picture of his remarkable father, of Anarchism and of the Jewish East End. Heavily illustrated by the author.
This slim memoir is about half perceptive and well-written anecdotes illuminating a very particular time and culture, and about half with the same subject but kind of dry. Possibly the parts I found dry would be more interesting if I knew anything about the anarchists he was describing. The illustrations, unsurprisingly, are lovely.
Fermin Rocker (his real name) was very close to his German father, who was interned during WWI along with Rocker's mother. This, like his account of the war and the splitting of anarchists over the Russian Revolution, is a heavy topic that he treats with delicacy without glossing it over. But just as much of the book is about the things he happened to remember from his childhood, from his childhood habit of peeing down on cops from off his balcony to his father's bedtime stories to the anarchist who gets treated to a lavish meal from an anonymous donor who turns out to be a local Mafia leader impressed by anyone who had two detectives tailing him at all times.
Rocker comes across as a good guy, both idealistic and willing to question his assumptions. Also, based on a photo at the back of the book, he was really hot stuff when he was a young man.
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Nice.