The video was uploaded to YouTube on July 24. The caption promotes the forthcoming book based on Rosenblat's life, The Apple, without noting that the book is a novel and the entire story told by Rosenblat in the video is a lie.

Rosenblat is speaking in the video to the producers of the movie version of his book, who have been steadfast in their determination to put his story — his made-up story — to film. Rosenblat repeats his old tale about a girl who threw him apples, even though he has since said his wife told him about throwing apples to some other boy in some other camp, and he just pretended it was him, but he believed it so it was OK. So he's now back to believing some made up imaginary thing. Positive thinking.

Presenting: The Apple, by Penelope Holt. Wait. Who?

Penelope Holt is President of Concise Marketing & Communications, a New York marketing consultancy and creative services agency. Born and educated in England, she has spent her career teaching professionals and companies better ways to tell their story, build their brand and get their message out.

Wow. So instead of getting some slackjawed ghost writer to repurpose the language of the old otherwise owned, old material, they just went for the shamless, balls-out approach. By getting a suit to write it. Impressive. I'd go into what else York House has to offer, but that pretty much says it right there.

The site describes the book as as "a novel based on Herman Rosenblat's story." A novel, you say? This book done been Frey'd. There's more: "The book also recounts the story behind the story... Why did Mr. Rosenblat fabricate aspects of his story? And what perils await a Holocaust survivor who does such a thing?" So it appears that they're going to be fictionalizing the account of what happened when people found out it was fiction, which is proficiently meta.

But it appears they've also posted an excerpt for the public's frothing desire to have this thing in there hands. Penelope Holt, President of Concise Marketing & Communications, take it away:

Herman went over the problem again. The problem of his book. I am a survivor. I know about suffering, he thought. The book was supposed to be a message of hope that made people feel better. Instead people were getting mad and disgusted. No not everybody. Plenty of people support me. But the critics are angry and they make the most noise. What a mess. He couldn't unravel it. Yes I made a mistake. I have to put it right. I know. But when? Not right now. Herman felt undone by all the hostility and not sure what to do next. He was mute, like in a dream when you try to speak but no words come out. Maybe later, he thought. When people can listen without getting mad. Maybe then I'll have a chance to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry I disappointed you.

Yeah, it's absolutely sad, but not for the reason they're thinking ("It won't sell?"). Next time you hear someone complain about the novel in the drawer they can't seem to get published, because the Brass At Random House or ICM won't accept their submission, remind them that there's always someone out there willing to peddle their shit-stained wares to the lowest common denominator, sans discretion. Try ringing them.

Rosenblat, as you saw in the earlier clip, is basically like "No it didn't actually happen in reality, but it's not a lie, because I believe it happened in my imagination, okay." And various other pablum showing himself to be a man with no remorse whatsoever. The official GMA clip has two nice bonus parts: first, the producer of the upcoming movie based on Rosenblat's lie is constantly interrupting the interview, and gets in the front of the camera to offer his own defense; and at the very end, poor Diane Sawyer simply cannot believe the story she has just heard. And she just got back from Appalachia, so she's seen a lot! Watch it all here.

York House Press in White Plains sent out a press release about the talks, then posted to its website a long digression about ethics, publishing and the Holocaust, and maybe Rosenblat invented this story to cope with his trauma. Bottom line?

No deliberate untruth is permissible, but beneath any fabrication is motivation and intent. We believe Mr. Rosenblat’s motivations were very human, understandable and forgivable...
York House Press is in serious discussion to publish a work of fiction in early spring that is based on the screenplay, tentatively called, Flower at The Fence, about Herman Rosenblat’s life and love story, that is grounded in fact and that rises to the proper levels of artistic value, ethical conduct and social responsibility.

Well, the infrastructure is all in place for another fake memoirist rehabilitation. Rosenblat and York House can hire James Frey's chum's PR agency (we're thinking agency partner Joe Dolce is perfect for this account); Frey, the lying memoirist turned bestselling novelist, could blurb; and Penguin Group could be asked to fact-check, just to make sure absolutely nothing in the movie is actually true.

Oprah herself still hasn't said anything about why she's so easy to lie to, including this fake Holocaust tale. Rosenblat first lied in a newspaper contest about meeting his beloved wife Roma when he was in a concentration camp and she threw apples over the fence to nourish him and they, after years separated by the post-war diaspora, supposedly met again and fell in love in Brooklyn. It's a sweet story! And it would have probably stopped there, but it was so sweet that Oprah, Master of the Three Realms, bellowed an edict and brought the couple on the show way back in 1996.

Flash forward 12 years and Rosenblat writes a memoir called Angel at the Fence which, before being published, is quickly debunked as cockamamie schmaltzery, he admits it, and then Oprah—who had called this the greatest love story ever told (apparently she hasn't seen What Happens In Vegas)—stays mum. Because, see above, Oprah didn't make a mistake. Rosenblat did. So eventually she has a web site lackey slip out a little admission that maybe this story that she and her website have been touting for so long is maybe a little not so real. How dare Rosenblat make Oprah apologize for him?

The best part? The meek website admission says that everything is lies, "including how he met his wife." Ha! Srsly? Isn't that part the whole story? Ah well. Best not to dwell on it. Now if you'll excuse me I have to get these calves to the dais for sacrifice.

Or at least it is in describing the author's first supposed meetings with his wife, at the fence. Like fellow faker Margaret Seltzer, Rosenblat seemed eager to move the narrative from specific events calling for convincing detail to broader, more abstract musings. So while the author supposes "no meal before or since has ever tasted as good" as the first apple thrown over the camp fence, he is very confident that "brutality banalizes not just those who do it but those to whom it is done," i.e. both concentration camp inmates and guards.

The little girl's clothing is described in very broad terms, a "red sweater over a blue skirt... very striking." And yet Rosenblat remembers the girl stared "artlessly and candidly," as though children gazing across a concentration camp fence should act more sophisticated, and as though he thought so even at the time.

There's plenty more to guffaw at in the excerpts below.

It all started with a contest in the Post...

Here's the first meeting at the fence:

And a tearful, almost romantic, parting of ways:

Rosenblat and the little girl, now grown up, meet again in 1957 at Coney Island and realize their connection:

In the epilogue that immediately follows, Rosenblat describes how he and his wife were often hard up for money. His memoir would have offered the real-life Holocaust survivor a path to a cushier retirement.

According to Publisher's Weekly, the kid book author Laurie Friedman had interviewed the Rosenblats after reading their fake, fake story and the result was Angel Girl, which was published this past September. Like Oprah, she's now feeling lied to:

Now that she knows the truth, Friedman added, “I, like many others, am disappointed and upset to now learn of Herman’s fabrications.” Adam Lerner, president and publisher of Lerner Publishing Group, said, “We have been misled by the Rosenblats, who gave us and our author what we believed to be an authentic and moving account of their lives.”

Here's the real lesson for the kiddies: sometimes old people—even nice ones that look like your grandparents and have even truly been through the Holocaust—sometimes, even they lie. Also: there's no Santa.

[via The New Republic]

The pattern is pretty clear: lying writer comes up with too-good-to-be-true tale; Oprah books them on her show; lying writer is showered with publisher money; lying writer is exposed as liar; and finally Oprah is shocked, shocked that a writer would dare lie to her. But after awhile, we're forced to wonder if she's the victim or part of the problem.

James Frey: From Idol to Intern
You all know this story, it's the granddaddy of Oprah embarrassments-turned-to-smackdowns. In his book A Million Little Pieces, Frey made some outlandish claims about waking up on an airplane (destination unknown) with all of his teeth broken and spending hard time in jail. Well as it turned out, the whole thing was just slightly exaggerated. The terrible thing is that—perhaps thinking that liking a story about drugs and swearing makes her seem cooler and hipper than fact-checking does— Oprah had made this her book of the month, which in the book world is the equivalent of the Pope farting into a nun's lady parts and creating an immaculately conceived religion robot. I mean, it's that big. So yeah Oprah was mad as hell and demanded that Frey come on her show so she could berate him for a decision that was, it's most likely, mainly made by his editors. Ah well. It all worked out in the end, though. Frey wrote another book and then became our dutiful manservant intern. Oprah was never embarrassed again. Oh. Wait.

Misha Defonseca: Not Actually Raised By Wolves
As we learned back in March, the book Misha: A Memoire of the Holocaust Years turned out to be a fake. Imagine that! A story in which a little girl flees the Nazis (but manages to kill one) and is raised by wolves in the forest turns out to be untrue. Unbelievable. Because she and her viewers seem to really love the Holocaust, Oprah had taped a segment with Defonseca, whose real name is Monique De Wael and is not actually Jewish, but the lie was uncovered before the episode aired. Had the show actually gone to air and Oprah been publicly embarrassed, she would have fed Defonseca to the wolves that roam the North Country of Minnesota. A state she bought six months ago.

Margaret Seltzer: Defizzed
Margaret Jones was the pen name for a private school-educated white lady named Margaret Seltzer, who wrote a book called Love & Consequences about growing up tough in the sunshine-stained ghettos of Los Angeles. Trouble is, all was lies. Ratted out by her own sister. Brutal. She just made it up to be, I dunno, cool or something (or she had some sort of massive psychic break, who knows.) Thankfully Oprah didn't invite Seltzer Shakur onto her variety show, but her magazine O: A Magazine About Oprah did call it "[a] startlingly tender memoir." Maybe because it's street enough to remind people that Oprah is black, but white enough to remind Oprah fans that they are white and so is she, sort of. There was no official Oprah retaliation, but in private she probably did something. Something involving best friend Gayle. Something involving gardening shears and the Howdy Doody soundtrack. Something unpleasant.

Herman Rosenblat: When I Said 'Apple' I Meant 'Sandwich,' and When I Said 'Death Camp Fence' I Meant 'Deli Counter'
Again, Oprah is just a sucker for a wildly implausible story about the damn Holocaust. All the way back in 1996, Herman and his lady had a gushy segment on Oprah's show, and their tale was deemed "the greatest love story ever told." Trouble is, the romance at the heart of Rosenblat's story (which was turned into the now-canceled memoir Angel at the Fence)—about a young man in a concentration camp who was thrown an apple a day (to keep Dr. Mengele away) by a young woman across the fence; later they met in Brooklyn and fell in love—turns out to be completely fake, and everyone's sad because why would these nice old people lie? And about something so terrible. Ah well. Oprah hasn't spoken out yet, but when she does... Oh lord help us. She has been jilted one too many times, this book-loving Patron Saint of Sad, Lonely, and/or Awful People.

His statement, via the Times:

To all who supported and believed in me and this story, I am sorry for all I have caused to you and every one else in the world.

Why did I do that and write the story with the girl and the apple, because I wanted to bring happiness to people, to remind them not to hate, but to love and tolerate all people. I brought good feelings to a lot of people and I brought hope to many. My motivation was to make good in this world.

Producer Harris Salomon said he was going forward with his film based on Rosenblat's book, simply labeling it fiction and donating all proceeds to Holocaust survivor charities. Meh, we'll see how long that plan lasts. Good luck keeping the investors together.

Rosenblats' son knew all along, according to the New Republic, the first publication to write about the fabrications:

Ken told me by phone that he had in fact known of his parents' lie for many years but hadn't been able to stop them. "My father is a man who I don’t know. I can’t understand it. It’s not my way of thinking," Ken said. "I didn’t agree with it. I didn’t want anything to do with it. I tried to just stay away from it. It was always hurtful. I just never dealt with it."

The publisher of the book is a unit of Penguin, the same company that put out Margaret Sletzer's fake autobiography. The company went ahead with this one even though the ghostwriter thought at least one anecdote in the story was "far fetched," as she told the Times, and even though another Holocaust memoir was found fabricated just this year.

Even Motoko Rich is getting a little bitchy about this lapse. With Joseph Berger, she wrote in the Times article:

That so many would get taken in by Mr. Rosenblat’s inauthentic love story seems incredible given the number of fake memoirs that have come to light in the last few years... This latest literary hoax is likely to trigger yet more questions as to why the publishing industry has such a poor track record of fact-checking.

More to the point, an increasing number of book buyers are just going to assume that the label "nonfiction" is meaningless, which is a fairly rational way of reacting to these scandals.

One of the remaining questions: Was Rosenblat's wife in on the deception? She appeared on Oprah Winfrey's show with him, but it's possible she was taken in: Rosenblat said he reunited with her after she told him she had hurled apples to a boy over a concentration camp fence. Rosenblat claimed he was that boy.

Reports Publishers Weekly: "Berkley Books [a division of Penguin] is cancelling publication of Angel at the Fence, after receiving new information from Herman Rosenblat's agent, Andrea Hurst." The New Republic did the original investigative reporting on the veracity of the story.

Rosenblat has to give all the money back, and the movie is obviously not happening. He's been on Oprah twice—no word yet on whether she will invite him back on the show for the express purpose of scolding.

(Rosenblat really was in a concentration camp when he was a boy, though—in the words of certain Jewish grandpas, "First the Holocaust, and now this!")

The story: Rosenblat, a retired TV repairman in Miami who lived through the Holocaust in a concentration camp, met a girl who lived on the other side of the camp's fence. She was living on a neighboring farm, pretending to be Christian. She tossed him an apple over the fence every day. Years later, in Brooklyn, a chance encounter reunited him with the girl, and they married.

Now it's going to be a book and a movie and a... wait, some people think it may not be true. Not the concentration-camp part—that happened—but the story of the apple-tossing little girl. (But he is married to a woman who says she was the apple-tosser in question.)

Luckily, the New Republic launched an investigation! It's always a bad sign when this happens after you call the book's editor after getting a flaky answer from her at her work number: "When I called Rosenstein at her home number, she screamed, "How dare you call me at my home!" and hung up."

Also, a mean old professor of Jewish studies says it's probably impossible that it happened:

Waltzer's main critique is that the book's central premise—that Roma threw Herman apples over the fence outside the Schlieben camp in the winter of 1945—is an impossibility... While, in theory, there is a slim chance Herman was able to conceal these meetings—and the apples he received—from his fellow prisoners, Waltzer concluded from studying maps of Schlieben that it was impossible for either a prisoner or civilian to approach the fence; the only spot where one could access the perimeter at all was right next to the SS barracks.

It also doesn't help that Penguin, the parent publishing company, acted totally suspicious and unprofessional about New Republic's inquiries to the book: "No one at Penguin has responded to numerous requests for comment about Angel at the Fence, nor my requests to speak with the author, nor my request to receive a review copy of the book."

I don't know. O called it "the greatest love story ever told," and it still may be! Just not true, that's all. But doesn't it give you hope anyway? Isn't that what literature is supposed to do?

The Greatest Love Story Ever Told [The New Republic]