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Pascal Fischer in Jewish-American Literature:An Asset to Teaching at German Universities

There are many good reasons to teachJewish-American literature at German uni- versities. An obvious motivation, which hardly applies to the German context alone, is that manynovels and short stories of Jewish writers undoubtedlycon- stitute an important part of the canon of Americanfiction in general. At the same time, this literature falls into the category of minoritywriting and thus negotiates identitiesdistinct from the American mainstream. Several theoretical concepts of postcolonial studies, ‘race,’‘alterity,’ and ‘hybridity’ among them, should be part of ateachingunit on Jewish writing,particularlyifitdeals with the immigrant experience.The contested idea of the AmericanMeltingPot,popularized by the Jewish-British author Zangwill, maybediscussed in conjunction with Jewish-American landmark texts addressing the issue of assimilation. In this essay, Iwill focus primarily on arguments that are of particularrelevance to German higher education: the linguistic particularities of Jewish-Americanlit- erature by authorsofEastern European descent and the cultural proximityof parts of American Jewry to German students. Apart from my principal aim of fa- cilitating adeeper understanding of Jewish-Americanliterature for them, Ialso want to bring to mind that does not consist of the Holocaust only. Frequently, Jewishhistory is exclusivelyequated with the Holocaust,which may preclude an appreciation of existing Jewish life-worlds.Iwant to counterbalance this tendency by offering students the opportunitytogothrough complex proc- esses of identification, empathyand understanding. Ihavebeen teachingJewish-Americanliterature and culturefor manyyears at several universities in Germanyand Iamnow part of the JewishStudies pro- gram at the University of Bamberg, which includes modules on literature, the arts and other aspects of culture. The number of studentsinthis program being modest,most of the participantsinthe lectures and seminars Iteach on this topic are regular studentsofEnglish and American Studies. The starting point for my reflections on teaching Jewish literature in this con- text maysound abit sobering:Most of the students have very little previous knowledge of Jewish history and cultureand – for that matter – languages. With- out these insights, clearly,itishard to understand manyofthe central concerns, conflicts and stylistic characteristics of Jewish-American fiction. Our students have certainlylearnt afew thingsabout the Jewish faith at school, and one can also relyonreasonable knowledge of the history of anti-Se-

OpenAccess. ©2020 Pascal Fischer,published by De Gruyter. This work is licensed under the CreativeCommons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 License. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110619003-014 128 Pascal Fischer mitic persecution in general and the Holocaust in particular. When it comesto Jewishculturebeyond that,specific religious tenets,customs,holidays,and as- pects of identity – in short – Jewish life, the situation appears to be somewhat disheartening.The German federal state governments put much effort into edu- cating students about the Holocaust,but they are less successful whenitcomes to educatingthem about the breadth of Jewishrealities – nonwithstanding the fact that manystudents show agreat interest in Jewishtopics.Toprovide an ex- ample:Aspart of my seminar on Jewish-Americanliterature and culture, Iask my students the following question: “What languagewas spokenbythe majority of in Eastern Europe at the end of the nineteenth century?” In aclass of more than 20 students, the reaction is generally – silence. Someone maysay: “ProbablyRussian or Polish.”“Hebrew” is another answer Ihavereceived. If I am very lucky,theremay be astudent who reluctantlysuggests “Yiddish?” When Ithen tell them that in the Russiancensus of 1897, almost 98 percent of all Jews living in the RussianEmpire claimed Yiddish as their mother tongue (Harshav1990,87; Fishman 1991:86), the reaction is surprise – if not incompre- hension. Our students do not know that the vast majorityofJews murdered dur- ing the Holocaust spokeYiddish, in fact at least five out of six million (Birnbaum 1988, 3). If Iask the students what kind of languageYiddish is, the reactions are hardlymore encouraging. Onlyfew students know that Yiddish is predominantly aGermanic languagewith Middle HighGerman providing the lion’sshare of its grammar and lexicon. The most important Anglophone Jewish-Americanwriters have been of Ash- kenazic Eastern European descent and those who wrote fiction in the first de- cades of the twentieth century regularly depicted processes of integration and assimilation. Since linguistic assimilation is at the center of that,Yiddish and amixture between Yiddish and English (sometimes referred to as Yinglish) playaneminent role in theirnovels and shortstories.Atutor thus has to provide some information on the culturaland linguistic background of the Jewish immi- grants who came to the shores of America around 1900.Atthe sametime, one has to introduce the studentstothe literarytechniques applied by authorsto conveysomething of the character and flavoroftheir mother tongues, commonly subsumedunder the term “literarydialect”.(see e.g. Cole 1986;Rothman 1993) When studying Jewish-American novels with my students, Iemphasize the points of similarity between their own cultureand Jewish culturewithout down- playing the differences. This can quite effectively be done by highlightingthe connections between Germanand Yiddish. German-speaking studentshavethe great advantage of understanding most of the Yiddish expressions thatappear in the Jewish-American novels Idiscuss in class. The problems that Jewishliter- Yiddish in Jewish-American Literature 129 ary characters face in learning English are similar to the problems of German learners. At the beginning of my teachingunit on immigrant writing,Ithus devote some time to Yiddish. Italk about the history and composition of the language, about regional variants and about the functional diglossia of the mameloshn (mother tongue) Yiddish and the loshkoydesh (holytongue) Hebrew in Eastern Europe (Fishman 1972, 137–140; see Glinert 1987for amodified view). When I playthem arecording of Yiddish, students are confronted with something that soundsfamiliar and alien at the same time. The lastrecording Ichose wasa short contribution from the Forverts Sound Archive about the Yiddish writer Sho- lem Aleichem (1859–1916). My studentsenjoy recognizing phrases and frown when they do not.Ialso show them some written Yiddish in the original – with Hebrew letters – and provided them with aschema to transliterate the char- acters.Since we have talked about anyway,Iask them to read TheTown of the Small People / יד טש טא ופ דן קי יל ני מע נע שט לע ךע the title of his story Imay .(9 ,1918 ול ם לע כישם) in the Yiddish original with the help of the alphabet have to help them alittle bit,but in the end we come up with: Di Shtot fun die kleyne mentshelekh. Of course, Ihope for the epiphanic moment when they sud- denlyrecognize words behind something that looked so utterlystrangeand opa- que to them at the beginning.Asthe modern German words sound very similar to this,nostudent has problems understanding the Yiddish title. Having equipped them with some Hebrew characters,Ithen present to them Yiddish writing related to the immigrant experience. Yiddish was, after all, the languagespoken on the streets of Jewish immigrant neighborhoods in America, of which the Lower East Side of Manhattanwas by far the largest.Asanexample of the identification of manyJewish immigrantswith America,Ishow them the -Lebenzol Amerika. In my ex / על עב ן לא מא רע קיזא sheet music cover of the song planations of the role of journalism for the integration of Jewish immigrants, I -For / ֿפ ָא ור עו טר ס introduce them to the most important Yiddish newspaper,the verts. It certainlyhelps that my students understand Lebenzol Amerika and For- verts as ‘LongliveAmerica’ and ‘Forward,’ because these are the samewords in German. When readingexcerpts of Jewish novels of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries with my students, Ialso emphasize the significance of lan- guageinthe immigrant experience.The linguistic dimension of that literature cannot onlyillustrate the hybrid and transcultural nature of immigrant identities (Fischer 2009), it can also open up interesting perspectivesfor Germanstudents. On the first pages of Elias Tobenkin’s1916 novel Witte Arrives,Masha and her children have just set foot on Americansoil in the harbor of NewYork in 1890 and are about to board atrain to the Midwest: 130 Pascal Fischer

Then came the train with awelcomesurprise – aconductor whogreetedthem in German. There was adifferenceofcenturies between the German which the American conductor spokeand the ghetto Yiddish of Masha Witkowski and her children. Neverthelessshe and her children were cheeredtothe marrow.With aman who spokeGerman they felt kin- ship. Masha even took it as agood omen. She put her questions in the most cosmopolitan Yiddish she could summon to her command. (Tobenkin 1916,2–3)

This is agood opportunity to reflect upon the role of languagefor our sense of belongingand how the kinship of languages maycontributetoafeeling of com- munality. In view of the Holocaust,reading about the feelingoffriendship aYid- dish speaker expresses towardsaGerman speaker mayalso arouse embarrass- ment and shame on the part of German students. Around 1900,when anti- Semiticwriters in Germanyincreasinglyportrayed Jews as the antagonists of the German Volk – Wilhelm Marr and Houston Stewart Chamberlain come to mind – these literary characters take it for grantedthat Germans and Eastern Eu- ropean Jews are closely related. Tobenkin’snovel can furthermore illustrate that even for Yiddish speakers their language(which some pejoratively called “jargon”)had alow prestige in comparison to German (Harshav1990,28) and that some speakers tried to ele- vatetheirlanguagebybringingitcloser to German. In this passage, Germanizing the languageprimarilyfulfils acommunicative function – Masha later addresses apoliceman with the question “Sprechen Sie Deitsch?”–‘Do youspeak Ger- man?’ (Tobenkin 1916,7), but in other Jewish-American novels of the period daytshmerish,Yiddish heavilyinfluenced by modernGerman,is / ײד טַ מש רע שי sometimesused by characters who want to flaunt their sophistication and cos- mopolitanism. In Cahan’snovella Yekl. ATale of the New York Ghetto (1896),the narrator points out that the proud immigrant “lady” Mamie has re- course to an “affectedlyGermanized” Yiddish (Cahan 1896,49). Students maywant to speculate whysome Jewish-American immigrant nov- els present bits of transliterated Yiddish – as in the case of Masha’squestion to the police officer – even though Americanreaders would understand little of it. Most likely, authors like Tobenkin wanted these readers to experience something of the tone of Yiddish. Or maybe, the intended readership was Jewishanyway? In ascene at the immigration office of Ellis Island in ’s Call it Sleep (1934), the newlyarrivedGenya asks her husband Albert,who has already spent some time in America, shortlyafter their reunion:

“Gehen vir voinen du?InNev York?” “Nein. Bronzeville. Ich hud dir schoin geschriben.” (Roth 1934,12) Yiddish in Jewish-American Literature 131

This maysound abit strangetothem, but most German students will be able to figure out the meaning of these words:¹ ’Are we going to live /dwell in New York? No. Brownsville. Ihavealreadywrittenyou.’ In the following example from Cahan’s Yekl the recentlyarrivedimmigrant woman Gitl does not speakEnglish yet. While most of her Yiddish is rendered as perfect English, the novel alsoprovides aline of transliterated Yiddish, but aYiddish that has been influenced by English. Gitl’shusband Yekl has justcriti- cized his wife for still using the Yiddish word “fentzter” instead of the word “window”,which has entered the Yiddish lexicon in America.Gitl apologizes and promptlyinserts the English word “window”: “Es is of’nveenda mein ich.” (Cahan 1896,41) –‘It is on the window,Imean’.MyGerman students, of course, recognize the German Fenster behind the unusual spellingofthe Yiddish word. Jewish-Americannovels of that period repeatedlyillustrate the problems im- migrants face in learning English. Roth’s Call it Sleep,anovel that focuses on the experience of alittle boy of six to eight years, presents us with ascene in the Cheder,the Jewishprimary school. While the pupils are required to speak Yid- dish with the and have to learn Hebrew in their lessons,they speak an English immigrant dialect among themselvesand proudlyshow off their vocabu- lary.But whenakid substitutes the Yiddish word “blitz” for the English word “lightening,” he is taunted by his classmate:

“Iseen ablitz just w’en Icommed in.” “Ablitz, yuh dope!” “So hoddyyou sayblitz wise guy?” “Alighten’,yuh dope. Ablitz! Kent’cha tuck Englitch? Ha!Ha!” (Roth 1934,309)

The shaky pronunciation of English and the manygrammaticalmistakesare less importantthan the use of the right vocabulary.The little boy is still later derided as a “greenhorn” for his use of “blitz”. It should be explained to the studentsthat in the case of such agreat author as Henry Roth, the playwith languages is more thananattempt at realism, as Hana Wirth-Nesher superbly explains in her reading of the novel. There is, for instance, avery subtle form of humor in the interlinguistic pun contained in Eng- litch (Wirth-Nesher 2006,3;78) The wordappears to be acompositeofEnglish -glitsh ‘slip’,which German studentswillalso recog / לג טי ש and the Yiddish word nize from the verb glitschig ‘slippery’ in their language. Remarkably, the Yiddish wordhas entered the English lexicon as glitch –‘malfunction’.Wirth-Nesher also

.”rather than “ich hud יא הך ָא ב ” The correct Yiddish form should be “ich hob 132 Pascal Fischer points to the subversive tendencyofthis use of language. The development of the word glitch mayalsobeagood opportunitytorecapitulate the students’ insights into contact linguistics. Yiddish expressionsstill playarole in post-war Jewish-American literature. In ’s TheAssistant (1957), the Jewish character Breitbart an- swers the question “How is it going?” with “Schwer.” (Malamud 1957,245)The wordmeans ‘hard’ or ‘difficult’ in Yiddish as well as in German. Some students realize that Breitbart,who speaks English fluently, could have usedanEnglish expression, but prefers the Yiddish word, as it more adequatelyseems to encap- sulate his notion of Jewishsuffering. Afterthe Holocaust,Yiddish is not the lan- guageofthe “greenhorn” in the first place, but the languageofthe victims. In most of the textsIdiscuss in class, the Yiddish words facilitateidentifica- tion with the Jewish characters.The shared heritageofYiddish and German may lead to afeeling of communality and thus enhance understanding.Atthe same time, Idonot want to createthe impression that the relationship between East- ern European speakers of Yiddish and central European speakers of German has ever been easy.Jewish-Americannovels by authorsofEastern European descent regularlyaddress the conflicts between their own history of immigration and the one experienced by German Jews, who had come to America before them, chiefly in the middle decades of the nineteenth century, and had achievedsome pros- perity there. These conflicts have been an important part of the Jewish-American narrativeeversince. Talking about the success stories of German Jewry in America is not hard in Bamberg, as manyprominent German Jews emigrated from thatregion – Fran- conia – to America (Wilhelm 2012). In order to render this part of Jewish-Amer- ican history tangible, Itry to anchor the individual life stories of some notewor- thyimmigrants into the local geographymystudents are familiar with. Italk about the Gebrüder Lehmann from Rimpar near Würzburg, who called them- selvesthe “Lehman Brothers” in America (Flade 1999). Imention Mark Gold- mann from Trappstadt and his son-in-lawSamuel Sachs, the son of his friend Joseph Sachs, whom Goldmann had met in the religious school in Würzburg(Ca- plan 2012). Of course, students are familiar with the investment bank Goldman Sachs. Ifurthermore point out thatthe upscale department storechain Bloo- mingdale’swas founded by immigrantsfrom Gunzenhausen(Barkai 1994,82). Most of my students are aware of the fact that Löb Strauß, or Levi Strauss, the founderofLevi’sJeans, was born in Buttenheim, just fifteen minutes southof Bamberg. In the house wherehewas born,thereisnow asmall museum that bringstolife his Jewish-Franconian heritage, the history of his emigration and his career in America.Toset acounterpoint to these business people, Ialso men- tion that important American had come from Franconia, among them Yiddish in Jewish-American Literature 133

Abraham Reiss/Rice, who was born in Gochsheim and became the first rabbi in the United States;Leo Merzbacher from Fürth, first rabbi of Temple Emanu- in New York City;and Kaufmann Kohler,the famous reform rabbi of Cincinnati, who was born in Fürth as well. Ihavethe impression thatsome of my Franco- nian studentsare not onlysurprised to learn about this part of the history of their native region, but also take prideinit. German Jews are generallyviewed with awebythe Yiddish-speaking immi- grants in Jewish-American fiction of the early1900s, but they also excite their envy or even incur their wrath. Philip, aYiddish-speaking character in Samuel Ornitz’ Allrightniks Row “Haunch, Paunch and Jowl” (1923)primarilyseesGerman Jews as exploiters of Eastern European immigrants and gets all worked up about “these damnednice, superior people, the GermanJews: so good, so respectable, so proud: with theirvaunted charities and rich temples which make youworms grovel before them. They are the ones who have been grinding you.” (Ornitz 1923, 102) Similarly, in Abraham Cahan’s TheRise of David Levinsky (1917) the German JewJeff Manheimer is presented as arelentless boss in the garment industry who looks down upon his coreligionists from Russia: “Altogether he treated us as an inferior race, often lecturing us upon our lack of manners.” (Cahan 1917, 187) Ifind it particularlyproductive to encouragestudents to assume different perspectivesinthese intra-Jewish confrontations. On the one hand, they may find it easier to relatetothe culturallycloser German Jews, on the other,these narratives are designed to channelsympathytothe Yiddish-speaking victims of exploitation. This leads to interesting processes of reflection, loyalty and em- pathy, which may, hopefully, contributetomyoverall learning objective,namely to arrive at abetter understanding of the complexity of Jewishexistence. If Iam lucky,mystudents more fullyappreciateJews in their multifaceted existence – involved in conflicts, strugglingtoget by in the world; some successful, some not; some happy,some sad; some hopeful, some frightened – just like the rest of humankind.

Bibliography

Barkai, Avraham. Branching Out.German-JewishImmigration to the United States, 1820–1914. New York: Holmes &Meier,1994. Birnbaum,Salomo A. Grammatikder Jiddischen Sprache. Mit einemWörterbuch und Lesestücken. Hamburg: Helmut Buske, 51988. Caplan, Sheri J. “Marcus Goldman”. ImmigrantEntrepreneurship: German-American Business Biographies, 1720 to the Present,vol. 2. Ed. William J. Hausman. German Historical Institute. https://www.immigrantentrepreneurship.org/entry.php?rec=100 134 Pascal Fischer

Cahan, Abraham. Yekl and The Imported Bridegroom. And Other Stories of Yiddish New York. New York: Dover Publications, 1970 [11896 Yekl. ATale of the New York Ghetto]. Cahan, Abraham. The Rise of David Levinsky.With an Introduction and Notes by Jules Chametzky. New York: Penguin Books, 1993 [11917]. Cole, Roger W. “Literary Representations of Dialect: ATheoretical Approach to the Artistic Problem.” The USFLanguage Quarterly 24.3+4 (1986): 3–8. Fischer,Pascal. “Linguistic Dimensions of Jewish-American Literature.” Transcultural English Studies: Theories, Fictions, Realities. Ed.FrankSchulze-Engler; Sissy Helff. /New York: Rodopi, 2009. 169–185. Fishman, Joshua. Language in Sociocultural Change. Stanford: StanfordUniversityPress, 1972. Fishman, Joshua. Yiddish: Turning to Life. Amsterdam: Benjamins, 1991. Flade, Roland. The Lehmans: From Rimpar to the New World. AFamilyHistory. Würzburg: Königshausen u. Neumann, 1999 [11996]. Glinert, Lewis. “Hebrew-Yiddish Diglossia: Type and Stereotype Implications of the Language of Ganzfried’s Kitzur.” International Journal of the Sociology of Language 67 (1987): 39–56. Harshav, Benjamin. The Meaning of Yiddish. Berkeley: UniversityofCalifornia Press, 1990. Malamud, Bernard. The Assistant. New York: Farrar,Straus &Company,1963 [11957]. Ornitz, Samuel. Allrightniks Row “Haunch, Paunch and Jowl”:The Making of aProfessional ,New York: Markus Wiener Publishing, 1986 [11923]. Roth, Henry. CallitSleep. New York: Cooper SquarePublishers,1970 [11934]. Rothman, David J. “Notes toward aTheoryofLiterary Dialect.” Hellas. AJournal of and the Humanities 4.2 (1993):123–35. :Ale Verk fun Sholem Alechem,Bd. 3 יד טש טא ופ דן קי יל ני מע נע שט לע ךע . לש םו לע כי ם .New York, 1918. 9–17 . לק יי ענ עמ טנ עש על מך טי לק יי ענ שה וג ת Tobenkin,Elias. Witte Arrives. New York: The Gregg Press, 1968 [11916]. Wilhelm, Cornelia. “Die Emigration der Fränkischen Juden im 19. JahrhundertnachAmerika.” Die Juden in Franken. Ed. Brenner; Daniela F. Eisenstein. München: Oldenbourg, 2012. 169–180. Wirth-Nesher,Hana. CallitEnglish:The Languages of JewishAmerican Literature. Princeton: PrincetonUniversity Press,2006.