Heard of Yitzhok Farbarovitsh? We’d imagine not, in which case stop what you’re doing and give a moment to one of modern Poland’s more interesting and quirky characters. Born in a shtetl called Vizne, Farbarovitsh's early life is largely a mystery, and that includes the exact year of his birth - - before WWI asserts one source, which is every bit as useful as saying he was born on planet earth. What we do know is that the young Farbarovitsh was a diligent student who harboured high hopes of becoming a rabbi. However, it all went wrong for him shortly after his bar mitzvah when his mother’s death left him high and dry. Farbarovitsh was at the time away studying at a yeshiva, and all efforts to make contact with his family for financial support proved fruitless. The teenager found himself in an unlikely – non-sexual – relationship with a local prostitute who had taken a shine to him; a classic ‘tart with a heart’ scenario. Despite her kind fussing Farbarovitsh found himself in with the wrong crowd and, seduced by the prospect of easy riches, quickly fell in with a group of local thieves. But small time villainy wasn’t enough for Farbarovitsh, and in the tradition of all wannabes he found himself moving to the capital, Warsaw. It’s here he climbed the ladder from bit part pick-pocket to armed robber, assuming the Yiddish gang name Urke Nachalnik – something not unlike ‘crafty master thief.' Prison was a vocational hazard, though in 1927 it appears he enjoyed something of an epiphany. He was sentenced to eight years inside for his part in a heist, and it was while serving his stretch in Warsaw’s Rawitsz prison that he was inspired by Stanisław Kowalski, a graduate of the teacher’s college close by. Encouraged to set his escapades down on paper Farbarovitsh wrote Zyciorys wlasy przestpcy while inside (The Autobiography of a Criminal). The prison governor gave the green light for it to be published in 1933, and was so impressed by Farbarovitsh's commitment to turning over a new leaf that he was released two years early. The book hit bestseller lists immediately, and was even serialized in Jewish papers in New York. His exposure of the Jewish criminal class won him both plaudits and enemies, and within a year his work had been adapted for the stage. However, on the third night of performance all the props and stage equipment vanished, doubtlessly stolen by those he had fallen out with. A quick word with his underworld contacts saw the gear recovered, and in the best traditions of showbiz the show did indeed to go on. His work - - and good luck trying to find any of it – was apparently largely of mixed quality. Some critics  adored Farbarovitsh's rough street style, while others slammed it for its gratuitous content. Farbarovitsh was undeterred, and continued to write – essentially in Yiddish. After pursuing a quiet life in Vilnius he found himself back in Warsaw and back in the underworld at the outbreak of WWII. Nazi policy forced him to live off his wits, and he became a prominent member of the Jewish resistance, coordinating attacks on collaborators, sabotaging trains to Treblinka and organizing smuggling operations in and out of the ghetto. However his luck ran out in 1942; arrested by the Germans he was shot dead in Otwock while attempting to escape. For further info on this true hero and enigma check out www.tabletmag.com.