Born in Yonkers in 1923, Avram Davidson embraced strict Jewish observance in his youth, served in World War II and then in the Israeli War of Independence, and briefly wrote for the American Orthodox magazine Jewish Life. He was also a prolific author of science fiction—some of which is peppered with learned and even obscure Jewish references—and earned much acclaim among enthusiasts of the genre, although he never had much success outside it. These Jewish motifs continued to appear in Davidson’s work even after his conversion in the 1960s to the Japanese religion Tenrikyo.

In his review of a recent anthology of Davidson’s stories, Yosef Lindell takes as an example “Goslin Day,” a Lewis Carrollesque bit of horror fantasy which contains passages such as:

The foul air grew fouler, thicker, hotter, tenser, muggier, murkier: and the goslins, smelling it from afar, came leapsniffing through the vimveil to nimblesnitch, torment, buffet, burden, uglylook, poke, makestumble, maltreat, and quickshmiggy back again to gezzle guzzle goslinland.

Lindell explains:

Goslins—an uncommon transliteration of the Yiddish and Hebrew word gazlan, which means “robber”—we learn, are changelings and body snatchers.

The main character in this story recognizes a yeshiva student with “stroobley earlocks” as a goslin when he mangles together two talmudic passages. In other stories, the Jewish themes arrive with a lighter touch:

“Help! I Am Dr. Morris Goldpepper” is about a Jewish dentist abducted by toothless aliens who need help. Far away and at his wit’s end, Dr. Goldpepper writes a secret message to the only people to whom he can turn, the American Dental Association.

On Tuesday, representatives of Hamas met with their counterparts from Fatah—the faction of the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) once led by Yasir Arafat that now governs parts of the West Bank—in Beijing to discuss possible reconciliation. While it is unlikely that these talks will yield any more progress than the many previous rounds, they constitute a significant step in China’s increasing attempts to involve itself in the Middle East on the side of Israel’s enemies.

By contrast, writes Tuvia Gering, Taiwan has been quick and consistent in its condemnations of Hamas and Iran and its expressions of sympathy with Israel:

Support from Taipei goes beyond words. Taiwan’s appointee in Tel Aviv and de-facto ambassador, Abby Lee, has been busy aiding hostage families, adopting the most affected kibbutzim in southern Israel, and volunteering with farmers. Taiwan recently pledged more than half a million dollars to Israel for critical initiatives, including medical and communications supplies for local municipalities. This follows earlier aid from Taiwan to an organization helping Israeli soldiers and families immediately after the October 7 attack.

The reasons why are not hard to fathom:

In many ways, Taiwan sees a reflection of itself in Israel—two vibrant democracies facing threats from hostile neighbors. Both nations wield substantial economic and technological prowess, and both heavily depend on U.S. military exports and diplomacy. Taipei also sees Israel as a “role model” for what Taiwan should aspire to be, citing its unwavering determination and capabilities to defend itself.

On a deeper level, Taiwanese leaders seem to view Israel’s war with Hamas and Iran as an extension of a greater struggle between democracy and autocracy.

Gering urges Israel to reciprocate these expressions of friendship and to take into account that “China has been going above and beyond to demonize the Jewish state in international forums.” Above all, he writes, Jerusalem should “take a firmer stance against China’s support for Hamas and Iran-backed terrorism, exposing the hypocrisy and repression that underpin its vision for a new global order.”