The Construction & Portrayal of Jewish and National Identities In

“You too can walk like a gentile” – The Construction & Portrayal of Jewish and National Identities in the Work of Gary Shteyngart

Diplomarbeit

zur Erlangung des akademischen Grades einer Magistra der Philosophie

an der Karl-Franzens-Universität Graz

vorgelegt von Juliane Linner

am Institut für Amerikanistik

Begutachterin: Assoz. Prof. Mag. Dr.phil. Ulla Kriebernegg

Graz, 2019

For Betty

Thank you for your cuddles, offerings of dead mice and scratches

Abstract

Despite predictions of its decline due to a lack of immigrant narratives, Jewish American literature has not only held on to its relevance in the past decades but has also found new themes to concern itself with in its writing. Questions of identity in literature have been especially prominent in recent years and thus warrant closer examination.

Therefore, this thesis concerns itself with the construction and portrayal of identity in the works of the Russian-born American writer Gary Shteyngart, primarily with the novels The Russian Debutante’s Handbook and Absurdistan, as well as with his memoirs Little Failure. These works are analyzed to showcase how Shteyngart constructs his protagonists’ Jewish as well as national identities. Furthermore, the analysis considers how Shteyngart presents his own person to his audience, using promotional videos as the main source material.

The analysis shows that the protagonists express their identities, which all exhibit varying grades of hybridity, very differently depending not only on the individual contexts but also in relation to how useful a specific identity is to them in certain situations. Shteyngart uses many well-known stereotypes about Jews and different nationalities to construct these identities and exaggerates them in order to lessen their believability and impact. In the presentation of different versions of his own public persona, Shteyngart focuses on using his own shortcomings as a source of comedy while also always adapting the version he presents to the book he is trying to promote. With these flexible constructions of different hybrid identities Shteyngart manages to combine similar identity markers in ways which make them each into individual and complex expressions of a hybrid identity.

Acknowledgements

First, I would like the thank my parents and my siblings, who are just bloody fantastic. They saw me through a failed attempt at writing a thesis and shared my excitement and relief when I managed to finish another chapter (or even paragraph) while writing this one. All of them are amazing people and I am proud to be part of our family.

I want to thank my supervisor Ulla Kriebernegg, who has guided me through this process for longer than we both expected. She was always ready to answer my questions, discuss texts and ideas, and pointed me in the right direction after I had hit a dead end. Without her, this thesis would not exist today.

Every hardworking student and Hufflepuff needs a handful of people who help them procrastinate and provide good excuses not to work too much (or on some days, at all). Therefore, I would like to thank the Pennyless Players and all my other lovely theatre friends, for letting me pretend to be somebody else when I was not in the mood to be a student who had to write a thesis. A special thanks goes to Remo, Merri, El(l)i, and Wanda, who were always ready to help me with food, hugs and (terrible) jokes.

It truly takes a village to get me to write a thesis, and here are just a few of the people who have helped me along the way: my friends, especially Magda, Isabella, Christoph, and Katharina, who have made these past seven years of studying an absolute joy. I’m really glad to have met them and they have been a great source of happiness during my time at university. I want to thank Claudia for always being up for a beer and a chat and the fact that she would probably hate for me to mention her here makes me appreciate her and her friendship even more. Thanks to Mark, Gudrun and once again Magda and Merri, for helping me proofread this thesis. I would also like to thank Amy and Nick, two amazing teachers, who became good friends and make the English Department a better place with their laughter and dedication. I am also very grateful to my fellow planeswalkers who have helped ignite my spark and sent me on countless journeys through the multiverse.

Lastly, I want to thank tea. Not a single word of this thesis would have been written without it as my fuel. Its existence vastly improved the qualitea of my life and work.

“The burden isn’t either/or, consciously choosing from possibilities equally difficult and regrettable – it’s and/and/and/and/and as well. Life is and . . . all the multiplying realities, entangled, overlapping, colliding, conjoined.” – Philip Roth, The Counterlife

“I do have a thesis” – David Foster Wallace

Table of Contents

Introduction ...... 1 1. Cultural Identity and Its Construction ...... 4 2. Jewish American Literature ...... 7 2.1 Primary Sources for Analysis ...... 15 3. “Eh you, Yid face” – Jewishness in Shteyngart’s Novels ...... 17 3.1 Definitions of Jewishness ...... 17 3.1.1 Self-Identification ...... 18 3.1.2 Outside Markers of Jewishness ...... 20 3.1.3 Religious Observance and Faith ...... 21 3.2 Stereotypes ...... 24 3.3 Anti-Semitism ...... 33 3.4 Remembrance of the Shoah ...... 36 3.5 The Question of Jewish Identity ...... 40 4. “Budu Jasem Americanko” – National and Immigrant Identity ...... 41 4.1 Perception of national identity ...... 43 4.2 Stereotypes ...... 50 4.3 Immigrant Life ...... 54 4.4 Formation of National Identity ...... 61 5. Shteyngart’s Creation of Gary Shteyngart ...... 62 5.1 The Case of Jerry Shteynfarb ...... 62 5.2 Selling Gary Shteyngart ...... 64 5.2.1 Marketing of Super Sad True Love Story ...... 65 5.2.2 Little Failure ...... 67 5.2.3 Online Promotion of Lake Success ...... 69 5.2.4 Online Personas of Gary Shteyngart ...... 72 5.3 Construction of a Comedic Persona through Personal Photographs ...... 73 6. Conclusion ...... 79 7. References ...... 83 7.1 Works Cited ...... 83 7.2 List of Figures ...... 85

Introduction

In an introduction to a short story collection published in 1977, Irving Howe predicted a decline of Jewish American literature due to an impending lack of immigrant experiences and narratives. Almost a decade later, Leslie Fiedler supported Howe’s claim and wrote that in his view “the Jewish-American novel is over and done with, a part of history rather than a living literature” (Fiedler, 1992, p. 117) and that the Jewish authors of this time who were still writing about their Jewishness were using it in a way that “it has come to seem in retrospect a final act of assimilation into the homogenized, postethnic society that made them rich and famous” (Fiedler, 1992, p. 118). Since the immigrant theme had been at the core of Jewish American writing for decades before Howe and Fiedler wrote about its upcoming decline, it was not unnatural to presume that the quantity of narratives would wane with the birth of second or third generation Jewish immigrants who would lack their parents’ or grandparents’ experiences and thus have nothing to contribute to the narratives which had dominated Jewish American literature for decades. However, in the past 40 years we have seen literary critics and authors work hard to disprove what has become known as the Howe Doctrine. The collective effort to invalidate Howe’s prediction is not only grounded in highlighting the continued importance of the immigrant narrative, but also in making Jewish American literature visible as a more diverse set of narratives than previously assumed. In the last few years, Howe and Fiedler’s claims have been continuously disproven, both in the ongoing importance of immigrant narratives as well as in the emergence of new themes, such as feminism or questions of identity. The aim of this thesis is to examine one of the themes of post-Howe Jewish American literature more closely and analyze its literary expression.

The process of identifying oneself or others as Jewish American can be seen as applying a so- called hyphenated identity, which becomes ever more complex and important within the current ongoing trend of transnationalism and multiculturalism, especially present in Western societies. Consequently, hyphenated identities have also become of interest in literature, with authors and literary critics constructing and deconstructing hyphenated identities of protagonists and writers, and examining their formations in the texts. Due to the numerous forms of Jewish American identities and the constantly developing and highly individualized processes of identity formation, the question of why individual identities should be analyzed at all seems natural. If an examination of identity constructed in the works of one single author can only show how this individual understands (their) identity at a certain point in time, how can the

1 results be of help to others? These questions are not unwarranted but they are in danger of being dismissive of individual experiences and viewpoints, which comprise and contribute to cultural identities and narratives. In examining such a question, it is possible to discover trends in the formation of individual hyphenated identities as well as differences in these processes and thus gain insight into different expressions of identities which appear to be part of what outsiders might describe as a homogenous cultural identity.

As a Russian Jewish American, Gary Shteyngart does not only fall into the tradition of Jewish American literature but can also be seen as a transnational writer, who tries to unite his Russian heritage with his life in the United States. Due to their ancestry and varying nationalities, Shteyngart’s protagonists must try to construct their own identities while at the same time having to cope with other people applying (other) identity markers to them. Selected works of Gary Shteyngart have already been examined in relation to how identity is portrayed and constructed in them, but these analyses were mostly focused on Shteyngart’s memoirs Little Failure, or selected one of his identities (e.g. his Russian origins) and considered it in terms of all of his works. Thus, an examination of multiple identity markers across his texts can be helpful to provide insight into the use and definition of identity in his work. Furthermore, in the case of Gary Shteyngart’s work it is also necessary to consider how he uses other media to construct, deconstruct and parody his own identity. This thesis aims to investigate the construction and portrayal of the protagonists’ religious, cultural, and national identities in selected works of Gary Shteyngart, including his first two novels and his memoirs as well as his use of visual media to present himself to his audiences. Consequently, the identities will be examined along the lines of religion as well as nationality, including the protagonists’ immigrant identity. Naturally, Shteyngart does not construct his identities in accordance with certain themes and the categories are not completely isolated from one another. However, for the purpose of analysis and to facilitate comparison these broadly defined categories have been chosen as overarching components of identity in all three works.

The theoretical foundation of this thesis is composed of an insight into identity theory and cultural identity, largely based on the ideas of Stuart Hall as well as an attempt to define Jewish American literature and the basis for Jewish American identity. Through a close reading of Shteyngart’s texts, the aim is to analyze how he constructs identities for himself and his protagonists in his work and highlight similarities and trends in his writing, as well as relate them to these theories. The main part of this thesis will focus on the texts itself, beginning by

2 examining Jewish identity with regard to how the protagonists view themselves as Jews and how a Jewish identity is applied to them by other Jewish and gentile characters. This will include an analysis of how the protagonists use their Jewish identity and how it influences others’ perception of them. The chapter will also examine the ways in which anti-Semitism appears in the books and the role remembrance of the Shoah plays in the character’s lives. This chapter will be followed by an examination of the protagonists’ national identities and how their experiences as immigrants shape their understanding of nationality. As in the preceding chapter, the question of how their national identity is seen by others needs to be examined more closely, as well as the question how their Jewish and their national identities stand in relation to each other. These chapters will concern themselves not only with the criteria used to apply identity markers to characters but also how Shteyngart constructs identity with the use of stereotypes and parodic references to other narratives. The final chapter will move its focus away from fictional characters created by Shteyngart and examine the way the author presents himself in different kinds of media. The analysis will initially consider the character of Jerry Shteynfarb, a caricature Shteyngart created of himself who appears in Absurdistan, before examining a series of book trailers and sketches produced by the publishing company Random House to promote the upcoming releases of Shteyngarts books. Finally, the chapter will consider how Shteyngart constructs himself as a comedic figure through the use of family photographs and humorous captions in order to further parody his own past and use it as a tool of identity creation.

Gary Shteyngart and many of his protagonists are Russian Jews and, in some cases, also immigrants to, and later citizens of, the United States of America. However, while all these identity markers can be found in the works of Shteyngart, their expression and role in the narratives differ vastly. As a result the identities held by the protagonists appear to be similar at first glance but end up each showcasing a different concept of hyphenated identity. Consequently, this thesis will show how the various identity markers (i.e. American, Russian, Jewish, immigrant, etc.) end up forming hyphenated identities which appear similar on the surface but upon closer examination of their construction and portrayal can be shown to be highly individualized expressions of the self and thus more complex than the mere sum of their parts.

1. Cultural Identity and Its Construction

Before a close reading of Shteyngart’s texts can be attempted, it is necessary to consider the term identity itself to see what the concept means for an individual’s or group’s construction of identity and how it can be applied to a text. First, it is important to note that identity is not a fixed element that belongs to the core of a certain culture or person. The idea of an essentialist self has come under scrutiny and it is now much more useful to think of identity as a constructionist idea (Plummer, 2011). Old ideas of identity, which consider it as a stable product of a fixed past, are no longer helpful when considering the complexity of the self, which is often multiple and fractured. However, it remains a useable tool of analysis if it is considered “a 'production', which is never complete, always in process, and always constituted within, not outside, representation” (Hall, 1998, p. 222). Applied to the analysis of identity in a certain work of literature, it is therefore crucial to not see the identity portrayed as a fixed notion but as a contribution to a process which is not only influenced by the past and the author but also by the readers and how they interpret and construct identities in a certain text.

Stuart Hall identifies a minimum of two ways in thinking about cultural identity, the first of which sees it as a collective self of people with a shared history. Cultural identity is therefore based on stable and continuous frames of meaning, which are the result of the common history and cultural codes. This idea appears to be mostly based on a point in the past which shows who or what somebody is and provides a fairly straightforward way of understanding cultural identity. Hall does not discard this interpretation; however, he suggests that a cultural identity can not only be defined by what has been and what is shared between the past and the now, but also by considering differences and developments from the past to present as well as into the future. Cultural identity is therefore rather “a matter of 'becoming' as well as of 'being'. […] It is not something which already exists, transcending place, time, history and culture. Cultural identities come from somewhere, have histories. […] they undergo constant transformation” (Hall, 1998, p. 225). Cultural identities are not simply based on an image of a shared past but much rather how people position themselves within narratives of a constantly evolving past. This also means that there is no fixed starting point to which they can be traced. Cultural identities have histories, but they do not draw from a fixed time span in history and exist within processes which are never complete. The present constantly adds to the past and at in doing so narrates it through memory and tales told among a people. The idea of simply unearthing a past to use as a pool from which to draw a cultural identity has been replaced by a constant re-telling

4 of a past that expands continuously. In this process cultural identities become “points of identification […] which are made, within the discourses of history and culture” (Hall, 1998, p. 226). To illustrate this understanding of cultural identity Hall provides an example of black Caribbean identities, which can also in part be applied to Jewish (American) identities: We might think of black Caribbean identities as 'framed' by two axes or vectors, simultaneously operative: the vector of similarity and continuity; and the vector of difference and rupture. Caribbean identities always have to be thought of in terms of the dialogic relationship between these two axes. The one gives us some grounding in, some continuity with, the past. The second reminds us that what we share is precisely the experience of a profound discontinuity. (Hall, 1998, pp. 226–227)

The experience of discontinuity Hall is describing in this example refers to slavery, colonization and transportation. Relating these vectors to Jewish identities, one can equally find an axis of continuity, here grounded in Jewish traditions as well as in languages such as Hebrew, Yiddish or Ladino. The axis describing difference and rupture can be seen as being informed by experiences of diaspora, pogroms and antisemitism. Jewish American identities move between these axes while also standing in relation to each other, navigating differences and similarities in their Jewishness. Jewish immigrants to America found themselves in new communities which were often made up of people from different nationalities and traditions coming together and being perceived as a homogenous unity from the outside. But a shared history, religious traditions or cultural memory does not necessarily equal a common origin (Hall, 1998). And these differences also contribute to the formation of multiple Jewish American identities. They are not only based on a shared faith but also constructed by relating to an outside which is other and by defining what they are not much more than by what they are. Stuart Hall notes that identities have the capability to “function as points of identification and attachment only because of their capacity to exclude, […] to render ‘outside’” (Hall, 1996, p. 5). This means that while it is easy to proclaim identities based on commonality, one cannot disregard that these unities are in part also constructed via exclusion and the power to define an Other. The concept of identity Hall proposes in his 1996 introduction to the work Questions of Cultural Identity is not that of a stable core within a self or a collective true self of people with a shared history, but fragmented and constructed in multiple discourses and processes. This view of identity had become increasingly important in a world, where globalization and processes of migration increasingly contribute to people defining their own identity via hyphenated qualifiers to construct a self within but also outside certain communities (Hall, 1996).

These hyphenated identities do not only play out on a social basis within communities, but also gain importance when it comes to narratives written by people who carry these identities. An

5 example of this can be seen in Jewish American identities and literature. Both are hard to define in terms of fixed criteria, largely due to the fact that these criteria uphold an essentialized notion of authority over the definition of these identities. Questions of identity are increasingly asked by authors as well as readers, who try to find out what is meant by a ‘Jewish American identity’ and why or whether this definition holds meaning for their own work. Thus, contemporary Jewish American literature has become more focused on identity rather than defined by it. In recent decades individual and group identities have become important factors in political solidarity, and discussions about identities have become an integral part of the cultural climate. Groups which have previously perceived themselves to be outsiders within the Jewish community, such as queer people, have started to seek a more inclusive Jewish tradition. This is a good example of how cultural identities evolve and change, with people taking active roles in calling for inclusion and trying to define a collective “we” that can include their self. But it cannot be ignored that these newly defined shared identities have no claim to universal authenticity or stability. They are subject to the specific cultural circumstances they are formed in and hinge on social and historical factors which contributed to their creation (Grauer, 2003). However, it would be wrong to argue that this constructedness and constant evolution of the term renders an analysis of identities in literary works unnecessary. The identities constructed by (Jewish American) writers do not only contribute to the development of the concept, but also reflect the cultural and historical climate of their creation.

In this view, Jewish American identities are no longer singlehandedly determined by genealogy but are subject to more varying frameworks. The question of who is an American Jew has morphed into the question of how people who identify as American Jews represent themselves to the outside. The terms “Jewish” and “identity” are both blurred in terms of a clear definition, which only highlights their constructedness. Jewish American literature shows the impossibility of a single definition of identity and underscores how they differ from other cultural groupings as well as showing the differences contained within itself (Grauer, 2003). In her contribution to The Cambridge Companion to Jewish American Literature Tresa Grauer states that this multitude of voices shows the everchanging state of this concept and furthermore highlights the fact that contemporary Jewish American identity depends, to a large extent, on the mediation of narrative. Whether autobiographical or fictional, historical or mythical, traditional or experimental, contemporary stories of Jewish American identity work against a single, monolithic self-definition and describe instead what Philip Roth calls the “and/and/and/and/and” of possibilities.” (2003, p. 272)

When writing about or constructing an identity via text, many authors rely on the mode of a (fictional) autobiography to convey the “I” and to gain a sense of authority over the text. This also means that the representation of the cultural self is subject to choices not only in regard to the authenticity of the self but also in terms of genre and narrative. An autobiographical text, which is a popular mode for immigrant narratives, provides the opportunity to foreground the individual which gains importance both within the Jewish literary traditions and in Jewish American communities and their family. Family has often been used in Jewish American literature to explore the need to balance one’s individuality and their need to function within a social group. However, in recent works of Jewish American literature the idea of family has also come into the focus when it comes to constructing an identity within a narrative of an individual family’s history. Thus, it can be argued that “ the desire to know the self in relation to the family, to history (to ritual, to place, to memory) – and the awareness that such knowledge can never be stable” (Grauer, 2003, p. 282) is at the core of explorations of identity in contemporary Jewish American literature, which can also shine a light on Roth’s “and/and/and of possibilities” (Grauer, 2003; Wanner, 2011).

2. Jewish American Literature

“What is Jewish literature? Why do you want to know? Who said such a thing exists anyway?” (Wirth-Nesher, 1994, p. 12, italics in original)

The difficulty of providing a short and precise answer to the question of what Jewish literature is, is largely but not exclusively due to the fact that it is impossible to find a universal definition of who is or isn’t a Jew. There are many definitions Jewish Literature, which often overlap and vary in their scope but which never reach the goal of becoming universally accepted and uncontested (Wirth-Nesher, 1994). Some definitions of Jewish literature use criteria such as language, religion, ancestry or theme to include or exclude works from the Jewish literary corpus. But since the definitions of Jewish literature are so closely related to the definition of Jewish identity, it is inevitable to understand one using different criteria than for the other (Wanner, 2011). To simply define Jewish literature as literature written by Jews appears to be the most straightforward approach, yet it is also reductive and critics such as Itamar Even-Zohar dismiss it entirely by stating that “Only a nationalistic Jewish approach, or a racist anti-Semitic one, or ignorance . . . would adopt the term ‘Jewish literature’ on the basis of origin of writers”

(as cited in Wirth-Nesher, 1994, p. 3). Defining Jewish literature simply on the basis of whether or not the writer is considered Jewish, runs the danger of ignoring the right of the author to define their own identity outside of traditional norms. Other critics have chosen to define Jewish literature by being written in a Jewish language such as Hebrew, Yiddish or Ladino. The problem with choosing language as a defining characteristic is evident: many writers who are widely considered to be Jewish authors do not originally write in those languages, whereas there are authors who write in Hebrew who would not be considered Jewish authors in any other sense of the word (Wirth-Nesher, 1994). The Hebrew writer Shmuel Yosef Agnon is said to have told Saul Bellow that the latter’s works had found a place in Jewish literature by being translated into Hebrew, implying that an author cannot be considered to write Jewish literature if there is not at least one Hebrew translation of their works (Wirth-Nesher, 2016). Another way to define Jewish literature beyond birth or language is to consider the author’s self-awareness about their Jewish identity. Gershon Shaked and Ruth Wisse both give examples of what this can entail: Shaked states that “Jewish literature in non-Jewish languages is, most fundamentally, that written by individuals who define themselves as having a dual identity” (as cited in Wirth-Nesher, 2016, p. 12). This seems to not only reduce the complexity of some writer’s identities but also puts the weight of choice entirely on the author, barring interpretations by audiences. Wisse’s definition of a modern Jewish literary canon is that “modern Jewish literature is the repository of modern Jewish experience” and thus, “the most complete way of knowing the inner life of the Jews” (Wisse as cited in Kramer & Wirth-Nesher, 2003, p. 3). However, this raises the question of how this “inner life” can become evident in a text in a reliable and “complete” way. A different approach to the topic is used by those who define Jewish literature in terms of being targeted at a Jewish audience. This definition is insofar insufficient and unreliable, as it excludes many authors who address a Jewish readership while also seeking to be recognized on a wider scale, for example in their relevant national literatures, as well as failing to define what makes an audience Jewish (Wirth-Nesher, 2016). Dan Miron has defied the idea of a permanently defined and continuous Jewish literature in favor of a literary continuum. He states that: a freely floating, imprecisely defined, and widely inclusive Jewish literary complex does exist; and it exists because many (albeit by no means all) Jewish writers and readers feel and behave as if it did. A Jewish writer (who can, […] be also an American or a French or a German writer) is a writer whose work evinces an interest in or is in whatever way and to whatever extent conditioned by a sense of Judesein, being Jewish, or is being read by readers who experience it as if it showed interest and were conditioned by the writer’s being Jewish (Miron, 2010, pp. 404–405, italics in original)

This definition is by far the broadest and most inclusive listed here, but this wide scope serves a very important purpose. Miron does not put the task of defining what is or isn’t to be considered Jewish literature on one single entity. Neither literary critics, nor authors, readers or strict formal characteristics such as language solely decide what can be part of a Jewish literary canon. Through his definition the concept of Jewish literature become a flexible term which can lead to productive discussion and does not deny authors the right to identify themselves in a certain way or readers the possibility of interpreting texts for themselves. Furthermore, Miron refrains from defining Jewish literature as an exclusive category, but creates an opportunity for overlap and hybridity. At this point I would like to come back to the quote by Hana Wirth- Nesher that headlines this section: “What is Jewish literature? Why do you want to know? Who said such a thing exists anyway?” (Wirth-Nesher, 1994, p. 12, italics in original) Miron’s definition of Jewish literature is one of many and it is by no means definite or irrefutable. But the complexity of the question “What is Jewish literature?” and the idea that there is no such thing as a unified and exclusive Jewish literature, is what makes Miron’s approach appealing and comprehensible. Wirth-Nesher’s questions resonate and they confront those who ask these questions in search of an easy answer. However, through Miron’s definition looking for a single authority with the right to give it has been transformed into a discussion to find answers to this question together.

Based on the difficulty of universally defining the term Jewish literature, the question arises why one would then also seek to categorize something as Jewish American literature and what it can add to the works in this grouping. Jewish American writing is filled with ambivalence and different viewpoints: it has discussed America from the perspectives of both insiders and outsiders. Standing outside looking in does not only apply to how America is perceived in many Jewish American narratives, but also shows challenges faced within their own and other communities. The terms that define this corpus of writing stand in a flexible relationship to each other, where they can sometimes complement each other while at other times highlighting discrepancies. The discourse between these terms is as dynamic as the relationship between them and Jewish American authors. To define Jewish American writing, measures of how much “Jewishness” has been preserved and how much “Americanness” has been added, have long been used to discuss texts in this category. Once more, the question of what makes something Jewish is raised and shows that these measures are not as easily applied as one might assume. Furthermore, Jewish American writing goes beyond a “dualistic narrative of preservation and assimilation” (Wirth-Nesher, 2016, p. 3) towards a corpus of writing whose name-giving

9 corpora interact with each other, overlap at times and stand in a dynamic dialogue with each other (Wirth-Nesher, 2016).

There is some truth to the claim that Jewish American writing is still, albeit not exclusively, informed by the immigrant experience which also stems from its history and the body of writers contributing to the perceived canon of Jewish American literature. Considering the history of Jewish life in America, it is possible to observe distinct waves of immigration as listed in The Cambridge Companion to Jewish American Literature: “Spanish–Portuguese (1654–1830), German (1830–1880), East European (1880–1924), and post-Holocaust (1940 to the present)” (Kramer & Wirth-Nesher, 2003, p. 3). Jewish American writing provides narratives of generations who have come to America and have tried to learn to live in a new home while also holding on to their traditions and values. Pressure on these Jewish immigrants comes from two sides, on the one hand from the new systems they have found themselves in and the reality that replaces former visions of an ideal new world, as well as from inside the Jewish communities themselves, which feared the freedoms offered in America could lead people away from the faith. It is clear that these groups of immigrants bring different languages as well as cultural and religious traditions and different sets of collective memories to the United States. This baggage results in distinct literatures, not only due to what was brought to America but also because of the different experiences made there. In addition to the experiences made by various groups of immigrants, we also need to consider a generational difference which can manifest itself in writing as well as in the reception of works. Children or grandchildren of immigrants are less likely to be confronted with language barriers or might see certain opportunities as something they are entitled to. The past the older generations had to live through becomes unnecessary nostalgia for some, and for others memories which give depth to their identity. “This self-consciousness,” Hanah Wirth-Nesher writes “[…] persisted well beyond the generation of immigrants […]” and we can now observe a “flourishing of Jewish American writing to the present day” (2016, p. 2). This argument stands in contrast to the image of Jewish American writing as largely focused on immigrant experience. Its prevalence led Irving Howe to announce in his introduction to Jewish-American Stories, published in 1977, that “American Jewish fiction has probably moved past its high point. Insofar as this body of writing draws heavily from the immigrant experience, it must suffer a depletion of resources, a thinning out of materials and memories” (Howe, 1977, p. 16). The terms used by Howe to describe the works of Saul Bellow or Henry Roth have determined what criteria were applied to a Jewish American literary canon. But in defining Jewish American literature as a regional corpus built around a

10 certain experience, the decline of this corpus was inherent in the definition. Since then critics oppose his view of a depletion of resources and the thematic limitations of the old definition by arguing for new talking points such as Holocaust memory, the state of Israel, (Jewish) feminism and new forms of Jewish life in a religious and spiritual sense (Grauer, 2003; Zierler, 2016). It is also wrong to assume that the topic of immigrant narratives is closed off to new contributions, as can be seen in the works of Gary Shteyngart, whose novel The Russian Debutante’s Handbook’s protagonist is a Russian Jew who moved to the United States as a child, just like Shteyngart himself did at the age of seven. These different factors that influence and create Jewish American literature need to be kept in mind. Jewish American literature is not and has never been one continuous literary tradition but much rather many different Jewish American literatures gathered together under one term that attempts to unite many components of a dynamic concept (Kramer & Wirth-Nesher, 2003).

When discussing Jewish American literature, it is also important to consider how Jews in America see themselves, not only because it is a significant theme of this literary corpus but also because it shows some noteworthy differences to other groups of immigrants. “Jews in America have regarded themselves as members of both a religion and a people, a faith and an ethnicity“ (Wirth-Nesher, 2016, p. 9). This shared religion and ethnicity go beyond national borders, which means that Jewish immigrants did not usually consider their identity to be primarily linked to their country of origin and its primary language but rather as a people with their own shared religion, languages and traditions (Wirth-Nesher, 2016). This could give the impression that Jewish immigrants in the United States were one transnational and homogenous group that gathered together upon arriving in the United States. However, whereas from the outside Jewish people were indeed often perceived as one large community, it was not unusual for Jews from different countries of origin to be as strange to each other as to most gentiles (Kramer & Wirth-Nesher, 2003). Jewish American identity is a multifaceted concept that needs to be understood, like many other hyphenated terms of identity, in the light of factors such as race, culture and religion, which can both be projected onto the group by outsiders and maintained by its members (Wirth-Nesher, 2016).

Similar to the question of why we need to define Jewish literature, it is also necessary to consider the need for a definition of Jewish American literature. When using the term, one should be aware that the position of the word Jewish marks it as a qualifier of the latter term. However, Jewish American literature is not simply “a subcategory of the national literature of

11 the United States” (Wirth-Nesher, 2016, p. 11). Jewish literature is a transnational category and many Jewish American authors do not identify themselves solely in these two categories, but add further qualifiers such as “Russian Jewish American”. Hana Wirth-Nesher sees these variations as reflecting “the complex paths of migration of […] many American Jews and the modern valorization of multiple cultural origins” (2016, p. 11). Applying these qualifiers to a text or a body of works can be useful for a number of reasons. Behind them lies the possibility to enable multiple readings of a text, based on different categories of identity, which can be applied by the author or the readers. The individual terms lead to questions and expectations, but they should not be seen as fixed. Just like the expectations readers have towards a text based on multiple other factors, such as genre or era, the identities brought up in terms such as Russian Jewish American literature are subject to variation and do not tie readers to fixed perspectives from which to view a text (Wirth-Nesher, 2016). Just like the questions change from person to person, so do the answers. It cannot be expected to find an answer to every question raised by an identity marker in a certain novel. But that does not mean they should never be applied to a text. Defining Gary Shteyngart as a Russian Jewish American writer puts him in not just one but multiple categories which enable different approaches. The question here is which questions raised by the label will be answered and how they affect the interpretation of a text. It is for example entirely possible to focus on what makes Shteyngart an American writer or how his Jewishness affects his novels without looking at what these identities mean together. However, broadening the spectrum of identity can enable a reading that goes beyond the individual qualifiers and showcase the complexity of the hyphenated self.

Hyphenated identities do not only give an individual the chance to see themselves as belonging to different cultural groups, but also bring challenges which can be difficult to navigate, especially when the differences between two cultures they feel themselves belonging to seem particularly vast. Examples for such challenges are Jewish American authors of Russian origin and how their identity is viewed both in their old as well as in their new homeland. Migration provides a multitude of opportunities for people and the possibility to redefine one’s identity. Many Russian Jews only gained recognition of their Russianness by leaving their home; they can now be seen as both Russians and Jews, identities which were hard to combine in their homeland since both were considered to be nationalities and seen as mutually exclusive. Upon leaving, Russian Jews gained the national identification as Russian almost automatically, since it was often projected onto them, based on their geographic origin and their language, by their new surroundings. Given the new opportunity to identify as Russian outside of Russia, many

Russian immigrants gained a new appreciation for the culture of their home country and embraced in their individual identities. In addition to the challenges of living in a new country, Russian American authors who left the Soviet Union before its collapse are also faced with the issue that the country they had left no longer exists in the same form. Returning to the place of their birth is in a sense no longer possible and due to their Jewish identities was also never a home they could fully belong to while still living there. They seem to be left without a mother country and in a way live in a constant state of otherness and diaspora in both their place of origin and their current home country.

In the book Out of Russia Adrian Wanner poses the question if it is possible to consider somebody a Russian writer if they have never written in Russian. There is no clear answer to this question, but Wanner states that “the identity of the translingual writer is best seen as a conscious and ongoing positioning involving both the author and the interpretive communities in the former and current countries of residence” (Wanner, 2011, p. 5). This need for constant positioning makes transnational identities seem even more unstable than other forms of cultural identity, but in that they also enrich and individual’s experience and awareness of their cultural identities which in turn informs their writing. The reception of such authors in Russia appears to answer Wanner’s question in the negative; they are not seen as belonging to the Russian literary tradition, especially through what some critics call the “radical act of assimilation” (Wanner, 2011, p. 5) that is choosing a language other than Russian for their works and thus also letting go of one’s Russian identity (Wanner, 2011).

The construction of an identity that involves multiple cultural qualifiers can be a valuable resource in environments which value hybridity. Not all Russian American writers focus their work on their Russian identities and its construction, but a large number set their stories in Russian communities within the United States or the former Soviet Union, with protagonists who reflect on their own Russian identities. Migration often leads to a heightened awareness of one’s ethnic identity as well as the question of how it is perceived in the new home country, which is in turn processed through writing. Often these processes lead to a subversion of old concepts of Russianness and a writer’s own production of the same: “Constructing a Russian personality while at the same time satirizing the commercial exploitation of a manufactured ethnic identity allows them, as it were, to have their cake and eat it too” (Wanner, 2011, p. 10). Thus the authors do not only get to play with their own conception and construction of identity

13 but also use satire to lead western audiences astray by selling them an exaggerated version of Russianness under the label of an “authentic ethnic identity” (Wanner, 2011).

In analyzing the construction of identity in the works of a translingual author such as Gary Shteyngart it is necessary to take his portrayal of Russian culture with a grain of salt to avoid the pitfalls of equating the authority he pretends to have with a truthful image of Russianness. Nevertheless, although Shteyngart’s view of what it means to be Russian most likely differs from what people living in Russia experience on a day to day basis, his portrayal (however satirized it may be) can give a glimpse into his perception of Russianness and the stereotypes attached to the country he left as a child.

When it comes to Shteyngart’s work it is also necessary to consider the concepts of ‘parody’ and ‘satire’ and how they are used in his writing. Albeit often used as synonyms, the terms describe distinct modes of expression. Ziva Ben-Porat defines parody as an “alleged representation, usually comic, of a literary text or other artistic object - i.e. a representation of a ‘modelled reality,’ which is itself already a particular representation of an original ‘reality.’“ (Ben-Porat as cited in Hutcheon, 2000, p. 49) and satire as a critical representation, always comic and often caricatural, of ‘non-modelled reality,’ i.e. of the real objects (their reality may be mythical or hypothetical) which the receiver reconstructs as the referents of the message. The satirized original ‘reality’ may include mores, attitudes, types, social structures, prejudices, and the like. (Ben-Porat as cited in Hutcheon, 2000, p. 49)

A difference between the two concepts can not only be seen in the necessity of comic intent for both concepts but also in what is encoded and shared with the reader. While parody relies on art as a source and as its object, satire is more focused on non-material concepts. Ben-Ziva describing parody as usually but not exclusively comic is in line with Linda Hutcheon’s definition of parody in which she argues that seeing parody as a form of ridicule may have been possible in the past but is no longer applicable today. She does not entirely exclude comedy from parody but also speaks of a variety of modes in which parody can appear, ranging from respectful to ridiculing. Parody can, according to Hutcheon, function as “a method of inscribing continuity while permitting critical distance. It can […] function as a conservative force in both retaining and mocking other aesthetic forms; but it is also capable of transformative power in creating new syntheses” (2000, p. 20). Thus, parody does not only work to oppose two works of art, with one outright mocking the other, but can also facilitate a side-by-side viewing of the pieces. To make such a parallel view possible it is furthermore necessary for the encoded intent to be successfully decoded by the reader and thus recognized as parody. Regardless of whether

14 a parody is comic or respectful in expression, a reader’s inability to decode it keeps it from functioning as a parody. If the parodic intent is seen as essential to the work, so Hutcheon argues, then the producer needs to facilitate and possibly guide this understanding. But it is in turn also open to the reader to disregard this guidance and not recognize the parodic intent of the text. For the artists themselves, Hutcheon sees parody as a way for them to come to terms with an artistic past and a possibility to reflect on and repeat their predecessors. This repetition can be seen as transgression, but in art it is in a way authorized and can help build continuity while maintaining a critical distance to the original work. This continuity is an important aspect of parody: “Its appropriating of the past, of history, its questioning of the contemporary by ‘referencing’ it to a different set of codes, is a way of establishing continuity that may, in itself, have ideological implications” (Hutcheon, 2000, p. 110). These ideological implications need to be kept in mind and should insure that when encoding parodic intent and repetition in art it is important to maintain critical distance to the original, even if this distance is not exclusively used to mock or ridicule (Hutcheon, 2000). Thus, artists like Gary Shteyngart can use parody and satire to refer to their predecessors work as well as ‘non-modelled reality’ and embed these ideas in their own texts. This gives them the opportunity to address or play with old stereotypes, rework themes of older texts and subvert the narratives of a previous generation.

2.1 Primary Sources for Analysis

The selection of sources for the purpose of this thesis has been made largely based on publication date (The Russian Debutante’s Handbook and Absurdistan as Shteyngart’s first two works of fiction) as well as with regard to themes and parallels in plot, since the novels are set in the same fictional universe and according to Shteyngart include many autobiographical episodes which are also recanted in Little Failure.1 Thus, the sources provide an insight into the construction of identity in Shteyngart’s early career as well as how he constructs his own identity by telling his life story and in part processing it as fictional narratives.

The Russian Debutante’s Handbook is Shteyngart’s first novel and was published in 2002. The story follows Vladimir Girshkin, a Jewish Russian immigrant who came to the United States at the age of 13. Through his work at the Emma Lazarus Immigrant Absorption Society he meets

1 For the purposes of this analysis Little Failure will be considered to be a work of fiction and Shteyngart as its protagonist. This shall facilitate an examination of the constructed nature of identity as well as provide insight into how Shteyngart uses his authority to construct himself as a person while selling a fictionalized version of himself. 15

Alexander Rybakov, who asks Vladimir to help him get an American citizenship. Rybakov’s son is a leading figure of the Mafia in Prava, a city in the country Stolovaya in Eastern Europe. Due to his expensive lifestyle and the need to impress his girlfriend Francesca, Vladimir finds himself in need of money and tries to improve his financial prospects in various ways, which eventually leads to him being in danger of being killed by a Catalan drug cartel. In order to flee from the cartel leader’s vengeance, Vladimir pretends to get Rybakov American citizenship and leaves for Prava, where he is welcomed by Rybakov’s son, the ‘Groundhog’. Prava has a significant American expatriate community, whose members Vladimir befriends while also trying to scam them out of money by posing as a wealthy businessman and founding a literary magazine. After Rybakov finds out that his citizenship is fake, Vladimir’s relationship with the Groundhog sours and he once more fears for his life. Together with his new girlfriend Morgan he leaves Prava and they settle in America (Shteyngart, 2002).

Shteyngart’s second novel Absurdistan was published in 2006. In it, the protagonist Misha Vainberg recants the story of how he has tried to return to the United States ever since his father killed an American businessman and the Vainberg’s have been denied entry to the country. Misha, who studied in the United States, desperately wishes to return to be with his girlfriend Rouenna and be able to fulfill his dream to live as an American. After Misha’s father is murdered by a rival, Misha leaves Russia to go to the state of Absurdsvanϊ, where he hopes to be able to buy a Belgian passport from a corrupt diplomat. Rouenna breaks up Misha, telling him she is seeing her teacher Jerry Shteynfarb, who used to attend college together with Misha as well as Vladimir Girshkin, the central character in The Russian Debutante’s Handbook. Soon after Misha’s arrival in Absurdsvanϊ, a civil war breaks out between the Sevo and the Svanϊ, two ethnic groups divided on religious grounds. In the midst of this conflict Misha begins a relationship with Nana, the daughter of a Sevo leader. After being declared Minister of Multiculturalism for the new Sevo leadership he finds out that the civil war has been orchestrated by the Sevo and the Svanϊ in order to trigger an American response and their financial investment in the region. Together with Nana he flees the capital of Absurdsvanϊ to a small Jewish mountain village, from where he hopes he can return to the United States. The novel ends on September 10th, 2001, implying that Misha’s return will be hindered by increased security after the attacks of 9/11 (Shteyngart, 2006).

Shteyngart published his memoirs, titled Little Failure, in 2014. In them he recounts stories of his life, beginning with a panic attack triggered after seeing a picture of Saint Petersburg’s

Chesme Church and the question of what could’ve prompted this response. Shteyngart writes about his childhood in the Soviet Union, when he was still called Igor, a name which his parents changed to Gary to help him fit in in America. Shteyngart’s family left the Soviet Union when he was seven years old and settled in New York, where he attended a Jewish elementary school, Stuyvesant High School before going to Oberlin college. The book ends with Shteyngart going to Russia with his parents to visit the country they were born in and reminisce about the past (Shteyngart, 2014).

3. “Eh you, Yid face” – Jewishness in Shteyngart’s Novels

The question of what or who can be considered Jewish is a complicated one that will most likely never be answered to the complete satisfaction of those who ask it. However, to examine how a Jewish identity is constructed in Shteyngart’s novels it is necessary to find out what the characters mean when they talk about Jewish culture and being Jewish. Therefore, this section will start by examining instances when characters discuss (their) Jewish identity and what Judaism means to them. This includes views held about religious beliefs as well as identification as Jewish and the contexts these identities are brought up in. Afterwards, the chapter will focus on how the characters’ Jewishness affects their treatment by others in the novels and how Shteyngart writes about different Jewish stereotypes in terms of appearance and personality, as well as the extent to which he includes anti-Semitic actions and utterances and the role remembrance of the Shoah has within the novels.

3.1 Definitions of Jewishness

When examining how Shteyngart’s characters view Jewish identity it is first necessary to consider how they define their own Jewishness in both words and actions, since it showcases both its importance for their own identity as well as what they mean when they call themselves or others a Jew. Throughout all three novels the word “Jew” is used by Jewish and gentile characters alike as a single marker of identity, to describe or introduce a person and give a supposedly clear picture of who and what they are, depending on what both the speaker and the addressee associate with the term.

3.1.1 Self-Identification

The contexts in which the word “Jew” is used as a descriptor varies but the most striking difference can be observed when looking at how the word is used by Vladimir Girshkin and Misha Vainberg in The Russian Debutante’s Handbook and Absurdistan respectively. Girshkin mostly uses it to describe himself as well as others in a slightly negative or self-deprecating way. According to him his person boils down to “Small, embarrassed, Jewish, foreigner, accent” (Shteyngart, 2002, p. 78). Especially as a child, when he is repeatedly called a Yid by his Russian peers, he mostly associates the term with negative attributes and it comes as a