Mendele: Yiddish literature and language
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Contents of Vol. 6.248
March 2, 1997

1) Yiddish and yiddishkayt (Benyomin Moss)
2) Yiddish and yiddishkayt (Mechl Asheri)
3) Yiddish and yiddishkayt (Elye Palevsky)

1)----------------------------------------------------
Date: Thu, 27 Feb 1997 22:53:36 -0800 (PST)
From: kmoss@leland.stanford.edu
Subject: Yiddish, Yiddish literature, and Yiddishkayt

Recently, several of our esteemed Mendeleyners have treated us to
an interesting if somewhat repetitive chorus of statements which make two
essential claims:

1)that one cannot properly read and interpret modern Yiddish
literature without a grounding in what they consider the normative
tradition, and 2)that the truth of this claim is part and parcel of a
larger truth, namely, that there is 'no Yiddish without Yidishkayt,'
by which they mean, of course, their own brand of Yidishkayt.

The first point is true in a wholly uninteresting fashion that
does not, in any respect, lead conclusively to the second. Given that the
classic Yiddish writers shaped their art within and against a tradition,
it is trivially true that in order to understand and appreciate their art
to the fullest, one must come to understand that tradition. But this
hardly necessitates any embrace of that tradition as the traditionalists
understand it: we don't need to subscribe to a belief system in order to
understand Peretz or Manger any more than Peretz or Manger did.

But surely, our traditionalists cry, you're twisting the issue. They
mean, no doubt, that one must be immersed in the tradition, the
'spirit' of yidishkayt (as they define it) in order to truly
understand Yiddish literature.

It seems to me that they are entirely wrong. The great Yiddish
writers, and indeed all great modern Jewish writers, created our
literature out of the tension between the world they had known (or in
some cases imagined, as in Peretz's hasidic tales) and their
commitments to modernity and to the creation and strengthening of a
new Jewish community and new Jewish identity. Our literature (and the
most worthwhile of our modern institutions, from YIVO to the State of
Israel) was born of the willingness of certain Jews to resist and
decry the stultifying, rigid, dogmatic ideas of Jewish traditionalism
even as they grappled with the possibilities and dangers of modern
Jewish consciousness. While the traditionalists continued to piously
intone "borukh shelo osoni isho," Peretz gave us "In Post-Vagon,"
which remains a searing portrait of the total marginalization of
Jewish women in traditionalist Eastern Europe. And while the khakhomim
vi-tsadikim denounced the heresy of self-emancipation, Abramovitsh
translated Pinsker and Sholem Aleykhem committed himself to the
Zionist ideal.

Our literature was created to be read by people, veltlekhe and frum
alike, who have dispensed with certainty and triumphalism, and who
recognize the necessity and the joy of wrestling with Jewish traditoin
and identity in the broadest sense, 'treyf-posul' included.

But this does not speak to the larger issue, what is Yiddish without
'Yidishkayt'? For many of us on Mendele, I believe, Yiddish is a
pleasure and a value for its own sake (and one of our members, whom I
know and respect, ought perhaps to remember this before he dismisses
the non-Jews who are interested in and in some cases committed to
Yiddish as a living language). But I must agree with my esteemed
opponents that Yiddish is ultimately valuable (to me) because of its
connections to Yidishkayt. The question is, of course, which
Yidishkayt?

Though it hardly bears repeating, let me simply note that for many of
us, Yiddish is worth learning and using because it cements our link as
contemporary Jews to the fullness of Ashkenazi Jewish culture, even as
it provides one means among many to sustain and strengthen our
community today. And when I speak of fullness, I mean far more than
many of our friends might: the life and work of Peretz, Sholem
Aleykhem, or Y. Y. Singer, or for that matter Yudl Mark, Zelig
Kalmanovitsh, or Ester Eliashev (not to mention Dubnov and Bialik)
means as much to me as a Jew than that of the tannaim and amoraim. And
I must say, it means far more far more to me than the thought and
deeds of many of our modern tsadikim, who in some of their less
shining moments during the past century have proven willing to strike
deals with reactionary regimes (in Poland, Lithuania, Latvia) in order
to seize control over the kehile, have suggested that Reform rabbis
might well be regarded as sinners deserving of death, and have found
it difficult to understand why one shouldn't attack and beat
'immodest' women in the streets of Jerusalem.

There is no Yiddish without Yidishkayt? I would say rather, that there
is neither a worthwhile Yiddish nor a modern Jewish culture of any
value that does not involve uncertainty, risk, and open-mindedness.
Everyone, frum and secular alike, can participate in the strengthening
of Jewish life and of Yiddish, but if we are to make something of it,
we must find ways to live as modern Jews, embedded in our history but
not suffocated by myths of a pure, unitary, undiluted tradition. We
must remain hungry for Jewish culture and experience, but undogmatic,
skeptical of easy answers, and unwilling to turn our backs on the
world.

Lesof, zayt mir moykhl az kh'hob geshribn af English. Mayn Yiddish iz
nokh altz shvakh, un ikh shtey baym soma onheyb ven ikh pruv tsu
shraybn. Ikh hob gevolt shraybn af English, es zol klor oysgedrikt
vern di gedankn. Ikh hof, az mayn onzog hot tsugegebt mer tsu unzer
diskusiye-reshime, vi mayn English hot es gemakht krimer.

Benyomin Moss

2)----------------------------------------------------
Date: Fri, 28 Feb 1997 09:42:26 +0200
From: donnom@netvision.net.il
Subject: Yiddish or Jewish?

I remember that as recently as forty years ago the language that
Mendele is all about used to be called "Jewish" by English-speakers,
Jews definitely included.  The insistence that it be called Yiddish
appears to have started when it became the subject of widespread
academic interest. Thinking it over, what they speak in Berlin is not
called Deutsch, but German; what they speak in Tokyo is not called
Nihongo, but Japanese and -- why go on?

The point is that even if it's out of fashion, there is much to be
said for calling it Jewish when we're speaking or writing English if
for no other reason than to remind us that it is, after all, a Jewish
language. The same can be said for the retention of the Hebrew words
in their original spelling and, in fact, for the use of Hebrew letters
rather than Latin letters. As for Peter Slomanson's (6:245) Japanese
who is "teaching Polish Yiddish to Israelis in Israel", I'd be
interested in knowing his (or her) name, where he teaches and how many
students he has. Bobemayses are one thing we've never lacked and I'd
like to get the facts on that one.

Mechl Asheri

3)----------------------------------------------------
Date: Fri, 28 Feb 1997 17:16:20 -0500 (EST)
From: epalevsky1@aol.com
Subject: Yidish un yidishkayt

kol zman se zaynen tsvishn yidn nokh alts faran soyney yidish shat gor
nit vos mir hobn oykh gute fraynt tsvishn nit- yidn. al keyn iz dokh
peter gerekht. iz dokh ober yidish on yidishkayt vi a yovn in suke ,
heyst es az meylekh iz  oykh gerekht. yidishkayt meynt nit lav davke
frumkayt, nor a banemung funem gantsn yidishn m'hus un a shteyger
lebn vos tsit b'kivn khayune fun yidishe kvaln, shaft k'seyder naye
yidishe iberlebungen un git zey iber naye yidishe doyres, tsi
geboyrene tsi  verbirte.

elye palevsky

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End of Mendele Vol. 6.248