Comments on R Simcha Roth's teshuvah
or: Conservosexuality IV: Bride of Conservosexuality
A friend of mine wishes to comment on R. Simcha Roth's teshuvah. I disagree with most of his comments, particularly his final judgment that RSR's teshuvah does not sufficiently justify permitting homosexual activity. Others I agree with. I'll detail my comments later, but for now I'll let my friend speak unimpeded.
Postscript: At long last, my comments on his comments (and so on, and so on). His original comments are in italics.
Dear Sholem,
On your blog you raised the issue of halakhah and homosexuality, pointing readers to the papers of Rs. Simcha and Joel Roth on the subject. Allow me to respond to some significant deficiencies I found in R. Simchah Roth’s paper. I am just looking at Part 1 of his paper and I am intentionally focusing on the dry legal aspects because that is what interests me and because I have no pastoral obligations or experience. I do not pretend that such issues are unimportant because, in real life, they are probably most important.
The legal aspects are vitally important, and I thank you for focusing on them. However, I want to point out in passing that "dry legal aspects" are inseparable from "pastoral obligations." The posek both serves and elevates his community. Part of the reason RSR's teshuvah is more convincing, though not necessarily better argued, than RJR's, is that he clearly understands the psychological realities of homosexual life -- realities that bear directly on legal issues (see below for my response to your comment on ones). That is, RJR chooses to bring the scientific evidence of psychologists who hold that homosexuality can be "cured" -- psychologists who are not held in high regard in the scientific community. RJR does this not (only) because he lacks compassion in this case, but because he is failing to correctly understand the metzius, the lay of the land -- surely a requirement for any posek.
This impression of mine was strengthened by a speech of RJR at the 2003 Biennial Convention of the United Synagogue for Conservative Judaism, excerpted in the magazine United Synagogue Review. There he clambers to new heights of disingenuousness:
"It is the popular wisdom in the world that homosexuality cannot be successfully or even moderately successfully treated, and perhaps this is true. I do know that there are organizations and schools of therapy which claim to have at least some, and sometimes great, success. I don't know where the truth lies, or whether there is only one possible truth about this matter, but this much I wish to say. It is yet within my not so distant memory that the westerm medical world rejected such types of treatment as acupuncture and herbal remedies, yet these are now part of the normal arsenal of medical treatments. I urge halakhically committed gay Jews not to reject the possibility that the severity of the halakhic demand of celibacy might be somewhat or significantly mitigated by some modes of therapy and treatment. Since the halakhic prohibition stands irrespective of whether there is treatment possible or not, there is little to be lost in giving a chance to treatment for which claims of marked success are made and attested."
In other words, RJR is comparing acupuncture, which, despite its use by millions of Chinese over thousands of years, is still viewed with suspicion by many physicians ("part of the normal arsenal" is a great exaggeration), to the marginal research of a handful of psychiatric eccentircs, which is widely scorned and definitely nowhere near "great[ly]
success[ful]", let alone "attested." One must breathe quite deeply at such heights of willful denial.
Page 7: “Rabbi Aharon Feldman in Jerusalem tells a story about the Brisker Rav.” In footnote 33, Roth misidentifies the Brisker Rav as Rabbi Chaim Soloveitchik rather than his son, R. Yitzhak Ze’ev Soloveitchik, who is widely referred to as the Brisker Rav.
A fair correction, certainly!
Page 8: “Women are not obligated to marry and procreate.” Roth is correct that women are not obligated to procreate and his prooftext from Mishneh Torah is right on target. However, he fails to distinguish between an obligation to marry and an obligation to procreate. Rambam lists them separately in Sefer Ha-Mitzvot (positive commandments 212 and 213) and only regarding procreation does he say that women are not obligated. The Sefer Ha-Hinukh follows suit (commandments 1 and 552). Nevertheless, it is quite likely that a lesbian is exempt from the obligation to marry.
I might quibble with this were my memory of the relevant sugyot more reliable. However, I remember learning in the Gemara that the obligation of marriage is explicitly connected to the obligation to procreate. In any case, this point is not very closely connected to Roth's main argument.
Page 12: “This requirement does not seem to have been strictly enforced in talmudic times.” Roth states that the prohibition against fondling and kissing was not enforced in the times of the Talmud and brings proof from a story about Ulla who reportedly kissed his sisters on their hands. Even according to the original version of the story, that he kissed them on their chests (surely Roth recognizes that there is more to a woman’s chest than merely her breasts, especially when dealing with young girls), Roth fails to distinguish between non-sexual contact – she-lo be-derekh hibah – and sexual contact. The story about Ulla is a proof that non-sexual contact, such as handshaking, is permissible. It implies nothing about touching that sexually stimulates.
I think you make three claims here. First, you imply that according to the original version of the story (more correctly put, I think, a parallel version), Ulla kissed his sisters on their chests. I believe that the word in Aramaic means "bosoms," and it's glossed this way in a number of sources I have on hand. Whether you choose to gloss it this way, the fact remains that many scholars understand the kissing to have been on the girls' bosoms. Secondly, you characterize the story as "a proof that non-sexual contact, such as handshaking, is permissible." I think this is too broadly put. If I understand the passages correctly (in Avodah Zarah and in Shabbat), the story is brought first, and then, in the context of another beraita, reinterpreted as a proof for the permissibility of non-sexual contact. In a broader understanding of the sugya, however, the story is quite clearly sexual. See, for example, the sexually-themed aggadita in AZ, the context for the story there. In general, to say that the story "implies nothing about touching that sexually stimulates" is not true, I think. Certainly, in the immediate legal context to which the story is put, your claim is defensible. In the broader context of the sugya, however, the story is definitely concerned with such touching. (In passing, I should note my impression that Tosfos, in tractate Shabbat, understand the story's relevance differently than does Rashi, where your statement seems to be derived from. However, this too is not central to the discussion.)
Pages 12-13: “Someone who is under constraint is not required to fulfill a mitzvah at all” Roth correctly cites R. Yosef Engel as stating that there is no sinful act for an anus. This is also the view of R. Chaim Soloveitchik as cited by his student R. Baruch Ber Leibowitz in his novellae to Ketuvot. However, this is not an undisputed matter. No less an authority than R. Akiva Eiger disputes the entire idea, as clarified by R. Elchanan Wasserman in his Kovetz Shiurim. This is a very complex and difficult matter that cannot be stated matter-of-factly.
This is a fault of Roth's style, which is more popular and didactic than technical. I agree that he would have improved his argument by examining ones in a more detailed fashion, though I imagine you and I differ on the approach he should have taken. See below for further discussion of this point.
Page 13: “Pedophilia and kleptomania (and so forth) are recognized psychological disorders… homosexuality is not a pathological condition of the psyche” So what? It is a distinction but distinctions are only meaningful if they are relevant to the topic of discussion. Roth quoted R. Reuven Kimmelman as arguing that kleptomaniacs are anus to sin just like homosexuals are anus to sin. Roth responds that the reasons for the ones are different but fails to explain why that difference is significant. At the end of the day, regardless of the cause of the psychological duress, both kleptomaniacs and homosexuals are anussim. Therefore, according to Roth’s reasoning, kleptomaniacs do not sin when they steal. I find that to be a fatal flaw in his approach.
Again, Roth's style leads him into thickets of unclarity or outright misstatement. Let me try to read his writing a bit more actively (as today's scholarly lingo has it). (Keep in mind that what follows is sadly uncontaminated by a detailed understanding of ones as a halachic category. I look forward to being enlightened by you on the topic!) One is onus if he does not have access to the set of behavioral choices that are available to the fully functioning person. It is important, then, to distinguish between the colloquial and clinical senses of a term like "kleptomaniac." According to various on-line sources (I don't have a Diagnostic and Statistical Manual at hand), kleptomania, for example, is distinguished by the following features:
Recurrent failure to resist impulses to steal objects that are not needed for personal use or for their monetary value
Increasing sense of tension immediately before committing the theft
Pleasure, gratification, or relief at the time of committing the theft
Stealing not committed to express anger or vengeance and is not in response to a delusion or a hallucination
The precise diagnostic categories aren't relevant. The point I want to make is that there is quite a difference between the layperson's casual understanding of "kleptomania" and the clinical use of the term. Thus, in a significant way, a person with a diagnosis of kleptomania is, in fact, not liable for his theft -- he has a condition, in this case, a pathology, which renders the normal set of choices unavailable to him.
What is the connection between kleptomania and homosexuality? It's an a fortiori argument. If we (should) recognize kleptomania as substantive ones, how much the more so should we recognize homosexuality as a non-pathological compulsion, an entire category of relationships which by its very nature is not to be understood in the same way as heterosexuality! That is to say: the verse in Leviticus (and Rabbinic legislation up to the present day) use the category "lying with a man as one lies with a woman." Not only is the definition of this category unclear, RSR points out that one could live in a committed homosexual relationship while at the same time avoiding the behavior with Chazal understand as "lying with a man." More to the point, the use of the terms "gay/homosexual" and "lesbian" are terminologically inapposite when referring to the halachic literature. Gay, lesbian -- man dekhar shmey? Who of the past decisors ever heard of such a thing? These romantic, social, and sexual categories are new, not corresponding to Leviticus.
Page 13: “But halakhah does not discriminate against left-handed people because they have a natural and non-pathological condition…” But it does. A left-handed cohen is considered to be defective and may not perform the avodah. Halakhah also discriminates against people with bad voices, who should not be appointed as permanent Hazzanim; kohanim with deformed hands, who may not recite the priestly blessing in the synagogue; men who cannot grow beards, who are not considered to be fully adult until they reach the age of twenty; etc. etc.
My halachic erudition (what there is of it!) is not as great as yours. I am aware of these laws, but don't remember their wording. In any case, if I'm not mistaken, they are all to be found in the Shulchan Aruch. However, I would be very surprised if these halachot were actively followed today. This does not mean that they are automatically abrogated, or that I reject the general authority of the Shulchan Aruch. But the differences in our halachic philosophies should be clearly recognized here. I do not understand the Shulchan Aruch as a Written Torah to be changelessly followed, nor can I refuse to recognize a strong and meaningful connection between the practice of a community and the halachot that dwell with it. Discrimination against certain sexual practices, if those are indeed what are referred to by the verse in Leviticus and the Rabbinic tradition, are to be countenanced as the legitimate expression of the halachic system. However, as I say above, homosexuality, as a possible route to monogamous sexual, romantic, and emotional life, was not recognized as such in those stages of the tradition. A new category is needed, for the simple reason that when we refer today to homosexuality, we are not merely referring to sexual practices, but to familial and emotional ties.
Page 15: “Rava states that the human male must always be held to be in control of his sexual behavior… today, any male – straight or gay – will vouch for the fact that he can have an erection even at moments that cause him the most embarrassment” Roth totally misses the point. According to Rava, ones can only apply to actual, physical restraint. If a man is extremely attracted to a forbidden woman, something that Rava surely would acknowledge as possible, he may not claim that he was forced by his passion to sleep with her. Rava added that, in addition to the inability to claim attraction as duress, a man also may not claim physical duress. This totally undermines Roth’s argument that attraction is a form of duress. If it were, then even a heterosexual man would be able to claim such ones for, e.g., sleeping with a married woman to whom he is extremely attracted. (As an aside, it is highly problematic from an historical perspective to claim that Rava ignored the possibility of an unintentional erection. I can think of a number of possible explanations, but something this obvious would certainly not have eluded him.)
Agreed.
Page 17: “I strongly suspect that in all segments of Conservative Jewish society masturbation is not looked upon as an unforgivable sin, under any circumstances” A rabbi must teach halakhah even if it is ignored. There is a difference between overlooking a common sin and permitting it.
Agreed. However, I wish to point out that, historically speaking, the "active" status of certain halachot, that is, the extent to which they are actively considered by poskim, is definitely dependent on the attitude towards them in the community.
Page 17: “Apart from the gay person there is no one in the whole breadth of compassionate Jewish life to whom halakhah, as heretofore interpreted says, ‘you may never, ever, under any circumstances, find legitimate sexual expression and enjoy physical love’.” This is untrue. First, there is the agunah. Roth addresses this by stating that the Conservative movement has adopted solutions to solve the problem. I’m not sure that they solve every type of agunah problem but it does not matter for this discussion. Since I reject the various Conservative attempts as insufficient, I see his categorical statement as incorrect. A woman whose husband simply disappears may never touch another person sexually for the rest of her life. A woman whose husband adamantly refuses to give her a get may also never do so. She might have a glimmer of hope, which is more than a homosexual has, but I assure you that it will not appease her one bit. She is no less deserving of our sympathy and tears than a homosexual. Furthermore, I have male friends who have already given up on ever marrying. They know that they will die as virgins. Is it their choice to be single? I hope that we can be more mature than blame the “single’s problem” on people being too choosy. They have tried but not succeeded and have given up. Some are socially awkward, others are so uniquely situated that they cannot find someone similar enough to marry and others are simply unattractive on various level, none of which is their fault. The bottom line is that they will never, ever have sex in their lives. I have sympathy for them, and I wonder how they can do it. But I would not distort the Torah and permit non-marital sex out of pity for them. The Torah is too important to be treated that way.
I stand with you against distortion of the Torah! I think, though, that we might disagree on what such distortion entails. The examples you cite, though poignant, are not germane. The fact of the matter is this: homosexuals, as recognized today, are not failed heterosexuals. They are not men and women who have come to the conclusion, as Woody Allen's joke has it, that seeing people of the same sex would double their chances of a date on Saturday night. No indeed. Let me repeat yet again that homosexuals are members of a different, and heretofore halachically unrecognized category. The Torah is not distorted by recognizing this reality - rather, we are faithful to the pshat of the verse by respecting the gulf that separates "mishkav zakhur" from the gays and lesbians of today.
Page 17: “The alternative to condoning some homosexual acts is to condemn the observant gay person to a life without any possibility of expression of physical love” Here, Roth sets two extreme positions and demands that we choose either the compassionate one or the ruthless one. He neglects the statements from Orthodox rabbis with which he started the paper that try to navigate a third way, namely state that such acts are sins but in private counseling sessions work with the homosexual person to minimize the sins and find ways to live as healthily and religiously as possible. A homosexual who can contain his needs is a tzadik. A homosexual who cannot is not a tzadik. I can live knowing that I am not a tzadik and I see no need to distort the Torah so that someone else need not feel guilty. I know religiously oriented people who fully believe that they must observe Shabbat but feel that it is so great a restriction on their lives that they will never be able to do it. So they live their lives knowing that they are not perfect. Never do they demand that a rabbi state that their actions are permissible. They know that what they are doing is wrong but they feel compelled to do it. This is, indeed, standard in many segments of the Sephardic community.
I disagree that acknowledgment of homosexual relationships, a social creature not recognized (or indeed recognizable!) by past halachic generations, constitutes distortion of the Torah. To desecrate Shabbat is wholly different, from a religious and indeed a Jewish point of view, than the establishment of a loving homosexual relationship, though it be not at all contiguous with the Torah's or Talmud's definitions of "lying with a man" or (in the lesbian case) "two women rubbing up against each other." Are these phrases really to be equated with today's gays and lesbians?
Page 18: “It is surely more laudable to adopt the path of ko’ah de-hetera adif” Here is what I have written on the margins of my copy of this paper: Augh!!! This talmudic saying is not a praise of leniencies. It is a statement that the burden of proof on someone being lenient is greater than on someone who is being stringent. Therefore, someone who reaches that state of having sufficient proof to be lenient must have a very strong case.
Surely, if I may be melamed zkhus, Roth is here using the phrase as a melitzah, or rhetorical flourish. I cannot believe that he is the first rabbi to use the phrase in a looser sense than that found in the Gemara.
Pages 18-19: “You would not be aiding or encouraging him in his wrongdoing if he were going to do it anyway” This is a complicated matter and Roth glossed over an entire issue. Lifnei iver only applies to someone who cannot otherwise sin. However, there is still a rabbinic prohibition of mesaye’a yedei ov’rei aveirah. Roth ignores it. R. Moshe Feinstein and others jump through hoops in order to come to their conclusions in their specific cases. Roth ignores those issues, explicitly discussed in the responsa he cites, and fails to explain why mesaye’a does not apply to homosexual acts. It could be that his conclusion is still correct, but he needs to address this complex issue.
Agreed. If one views current, committed homosexual relationships as ipso facto sinful, your point is correct. As you have gathered by now, I disagree with the premise.
Page 19: “We have already demonstrated that there is ample room for accommodation to their special needs through halakhically condoning them” Roth explained earlier that we have to allow homosexuals to perform certain sins. Now he is claiming that his earlier logic proved that they are not sins at all. Condoning is not permitting.
In conclusion, R. Simchah Roth has failed to provide a sound halakhic reasoning to permit any form of homosexual activity. Both fondling and intercourse remain prohibited, despite our profound sympathy for the disadvantaged homosexual. How, exactly, to counsel individuals – when to tell them to fight their desires and when to instruct them on how to minimize their sins – is a very important pastoral issue that I am insufficiently qualified to address. However, I will add another halakhic issue – the largest problem I had with the R. Joel Roth’s paper. R. Joel Roth argues on pages 5-6 of his unnumbered paper that homoerotic fantasies are permissible as long as they do not lead to homosexual activity. He rightly contends that the discussion of hirhur is complex but states, “What is important to note is that the avoidance of hirhur is a desideratum, not a legal requirement. One must attempt to avoid hirhur, but is not legally liable for failure.” These two sentences are very different and, I believe, only the second is accurate. Hirhur – sexual fantasizing – is prohibited explicitly in the Talmud (Ketuvot 46a) and codes (Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Issurei Bi’ah 21:5; Shulhan Arukh, Even Ha-Ezer 23:3). Both a heterosexual and a homosexual man must try to avoid sexual fantasies, even if complete success is impossible. This includes avoiding suggestive films and situations that will likely lead to such fantasies. Indeed, someone who fights his battle on the realm of thoughts will find that he is much less prone to more severe sins than otherwise.
With regard to hirhurim, I'm not sure I agree with your last claims. Nor am I sure that hirhurim can be so glibly equated with sexual fantasizing, which I understand as a much broader category. However, with regard to the strigency of the prohbitions against hirhurim, I will acknowledge your greater erudition and not quibble on the matter, although I think I would have something to say (given greater space and time) on the importance of recognizing differences in stringency and importance among different halachot.
With regard to your conclusion, I must say that your comments have helped me to a deeper understanding of the deficiencies in RSR's teshuvah. However, the conclusion I draw is different from yours. How so? I think Roth should have framed his approach to homosexuality more broadly. Any treatment of homosexuality according to an Orthodox understanding of halachah will founder on the central paradox, which is the following: Halachah is not only, or not primarily codified law, but case law. However, case law can only be rendered by those who fully understand the deficiencies and advantages of the codified law. Halachah with regard to homosexuality can never be other than what it is now, say the Orthodox. This is, of course, true to their way of thinking, because the halachah as codified is never (or only very glacially) changed, and acrobatic hoop-jumping and back-flips are executed with impressive regularity to maintain that stasis. What is the halachah about homosexuality? Look in the Shulchan Aruch. There it is forbidden. Therefore, it is and will always be forbidden, and committed homosexual relationships are always to be understood in the narrow terms of Levitically prohibited cultic sex acts. QED. This is where case law -- teshuvot, psakim -- come in. When RSR, in his teshuvah, brought the opinions of those Orthodox poskim who encourage their questioners not to relinquish their status within the community, I gave a short little laugh of scorn, thinking that Roth was appealing to the "authority of the Orthodox" (as we too often do in the Conservative movement). But, again to give him the benefit of the doubt, he might have been doing this for another reason: to show that halachic case law is moving in a direction that recognizes the inapposite terminology and categorical incompleteness of previous generations' codified halachah.
I trust that my comments here will be seen as a confrontation with difficult halakhic concepts and not stereotyped as a homophobic response of hiding behing legalisms.
Sincerely,
An Anonymous Friend
Of course! And I hope that, in return, my flexibility will not automatically be characterized as a distortion of the Torah.
Kol-tuv,
A Non-Anonymous Friend
3/12/04
3/11/04
Waugh! Waugh! Waugh!
Hear that? No, that's not someone from "Peanuts," it's the Z.Sh.B. Patented Bad Poetry Foghorn. It's been sounding for the past several days on account of Henri Cole's "To The Forty-Third President," which takes up precious bandwidth in the new issue of The New Yorker. (Not available on-line. And a good thing, too.) Its faults include, but are not limited to, the Sin of Thematicity. (Don't write about "paper clips," "dogs," "my mother's perfume," "Why Bush is Bad," or anything else that can be summed up in a sentence. If it can be summed up in a sentence, do so, and skip the poem.) We also get Cole's favorite closure, a strange animal excreting something off in the forest. It's a poem not to be missed, if only to remind oneself that Homer (and Gluck, and Cole) do sometime slumber.
Meanwhile, here's a cracking good poem from the same pen. (Taken from Slate.)
Crows in Evening Glow
The terrible glorious crows are convening again,
swooping into the area with triumphant caws,
plunging with demon black wings from utility poles,
kicking and pecking a neighbor's kittens.
Wearing the plaid shirt that was my father's plaid shirt,
I throw a tarp over a pile of clear pink
hemorrhaging garbage bags. See a crow,
take three steps back. Three crows cried,
someone has died. Go home, Crows! I holler,
My black-lipped daddy is gone. Poor crows,
perplexing as men, nobody is listening
to their tired signals, not even the mother,
with blue drooping breast, nursing a newborn
under a red maple with a nest.
Henri Cole's new collection, Middle Earth, appeared last year. He is poet-in-residence at Smith College.
And on another topic . . .
I am, in dilatory fashion, putting together a response to R' Anonymous Friend's comments on R' Simcha Roth's homosexuality teshuvah. Suffice it to say, in the meantime, that I disagree with RAF. But stay tuned! I'll have them up soon.
Hear that? No, that's not someone from "Peanuts," it's the Z.Sh.B. Patented Bad Poetry Foghorn. It's been sounding for the past several days on account of Henri Cole's "To The Forty-Third President," which takes up precious bandwidth in the new issue of The New Yorker. (Not available on-line. And a good thing, too.) Its faults include, but are not limited to, the Sin of Thematicity. (Don't write about "paper clips," "dogs," "my mother's perfume," "Why Bush is Bad," or anything else that can be summed up in a sentence. If it can be summed up in a sentence, do so, and skip the poem.) We also get Cole's favorite closure, a strange animal excreting something off in the forest. It's a poem not to be missed, if only to remind oneself that Homer (and Gluck, and Cole) do sometime slumber.
Meanwhile, here's a cracking good poem from the same pen. (Taken from Slate.)
Crows in Evening Glow
The terrible glorious crows are convening again,
swooping into the area with triumphant caws,
plunging with demon black wings from utility poles,
kicking and pecking a neighbor's kittens.
Wearing the plaid shirt that was my father's plaid shirt,
I throw a tarp over a pile of clear pink
hemorrhaging garbage bags. See a crow,
take three steps back. Three crows cried,
someone has died. Go home, Crows! I holler,
My black-lipped daddy is gone. Poor crows,
perplexing as men, nobody is listening
to their tired signals, not even the mother,
with blue drooping breast, nursing a newborn
under a red maple with a nest.
Henri Cole's new collection, Middle Earth, appeared last year. He is poet-in-residence at Smith College.
And on another topic . . .
I am, in dilatory fashion, putting together a response to R' Anonymous Friend's comments on R' Simcha Roth's homosexuality teshuvah. Suffice it to say, in the meantime, that I disagree with RAF. But stay tuned! I'll have them up soon.
3/6/04
To Kill, Destroy, and Annihilate*
This Purim note is written stone-cold sober, since the author will do his Slivovitz drinking at tomorrow's banquet. Any stylistic or grammatical errors are due to the writer's native intelligence.
The Book of Esther? Dark comedy -- maybe the darkest. We get murder, both the one-on-one variety and wartime slaughter, attempted rape (leaving aside Ahasuerus's droit de seigneur masquerading as comparative perfume testing), and a whole lot more, with drunkenness the very least of it. Behind it all, the machinations of a hideously incompetent monarchy, which can't manage to rescind an order for genocide even after the king's recognized his mistake. So what's to celebrate? Or, more to the point, why do I celebrate?
I see the moral imperfection, and I cringe at the way we clawed and slew our way to survival. If only things had ended differently -- better a revealed miracle, less Godly grandeur, and more peaceful resolution! But the story turned out the right way at least in one particular: a people was saved. An ending so simple, even in the midst of such bloody complication, is a cause for joy. And because we don't hesitate to tell such bloody tales of vengeance about ourselves, perhaps we can save ourselves in more moral ways, "in these days, at this time."
*A phrase from the Purim liturgy.
This Purim note is written stone-cold sober, since the author will do his Slivovitz drinking at tomorrow's banquet. Any stylistic or grammatical errors are due to the writer's native intelligence.
The Book of Esther? Dark comedy -- maybe the darkest. We get murder, both the one-on-one variety and wartime slaughter, attempted rape (leaving aside Ahasuerus's droit de seigneur masquerading as comparative perfume testing), and a whole lot more, with drunkenness the very least of it. Behind it all, the machinations of a hideously incompetent monarchy, which can't manage to rescind an order for genocide even after the king's recognized his mistake. So what's to celebrate? Or, more to the point, why do I celebrate?
I see the moral imperfection, and I cringe at the way we clawed and slew our way to survival. If only things had ended differently -- better a revealed miracle, less Godly grandeur, and more peaceful resolution! But the story turned out the right way at least in one particular: a people was saved. An ending so simple, even in the midst of such bloody complication, is a cause for joy. And because we don't hesitate to tell such bloody tales of vengeance about ourselves, perhaps we can save ourselves in more moral ways, "in these days, at this time."
*A phrase from the Purim liturgy.
3/3/04
In the temple of dairy eats, II
The Mother-Wife, the Daughter, the Father-Husband, and the Aunt were eating today at B&H. The sandaled, hair-netted, and ungloved soup-maker, the sturdy older woman I wrote about earlier, sat on a stool at the counter and watched us, in a not unfriendly way, as we ate happily at our table. As we were about to leave, the woman came up to us and started talking to Celeste. (Oops. Sorry for the style shift. I mean, Mother-Wife.)
She was talking to us, I figured out, in Polish. From my knowledge of Russian and a liberal dollop of context, I caught the words for "nose," "breathing," and "chin." What she meant, therefore, was any one of the following:
A. The baby's nose is pressed against the mother's chest, so that she (Blanca) will suffocate.
B. The baby's nose is pressed against the mother's chest, and her (Blanca's) nose will get squashed, flaring out unattractively and ruining any future friendships or romances.
C. The baby can only breathe through her nose. Since her nose is pressed etc., the air will come up into her sinuses and [something or other which I couldn't figure out].
I managed to remember how to say "thank you" in Polish, and did so. We were grateful for the soup-maker's concern, though I'm still not sure what she meant. Blanca (i.e. Daughter) seems happy.
I went home by myself on the bus, and while I was reading my book, thought I heard the bus driver talking to himself. After a few minutes I figured out that, thank goodness, this was not the case. Rather, he was only cursing at other drivers in a loud voice.
The Mother-Wife, the Daughter, the Father-Husband, and the Aunt were eating today at B&H. The sandaled, hair-netted, and ungloved soup-maker, the sturdy older woman I wrote about earlier, sat on a stool at the counter and watched us, in a not unfriendly way, as we ate happily at our table. As we were about to leave, the woman came up to us and started talking to Celeste. (Oops. Sorry for the style shift. I mean, Mother-Wife.)
She was talking to us, I figured out, in Polish. From my knowledge of Russian and a liberal dollop of context, I caught the words for "nose," "breathing," and "chin." What she meant, therefore, was any one of the following:
A. The baby's nose is pressed against the mother's chest, so that she (Blanca) will suffocate.
B. The baby's nose is pressed against the mother's chest, and her (Blanca's) nose will get squashed, flaring out unattractively and ruining any future friendships or romances.
C. The baby can only breathe through her nose. Since her nose is pressed etc., the air will come up into her sinuses and [something or other which I couldn't figure out].
I managed to remember how to say "thank you" in Polish, and did so. We were grateful for the soup-maker's concern, though I'm still not sure what she meant. Blanca (i.e. Daughter) seems happy.
I went home by myself on the bus, and while I was reading my book, thought I heard the bus driver talking to himself. After a few minutes I figured out that, thank goodness, this was not the case. Rather, he was only cursing at other drivers in a loud voice.
3/2/04
Trenton Makes, The World Takes*
San Francisco Marries, the Rest of the Country [except for New Paltz?] Tarries
Washington Proposes, New York Disposes
Rome Crucifies, Hollywood Indignifies
Make your own!
*Why was I in Trenton, you ask? Just passing through on the way to and from this conference, which I'm writing an article about now.
San Francisco Marries, the Rest of the Country [except for New Paltz?] Tarries
Washington Proposes, New York Disposes
Rome Crucifies, Hollywood Indignifies
Make your own!
*Why was I in Trenton, you ask? Just passing through on the way to and from this conference, which I'm writing an article about now.
2/24/04
Breast-Milk Addicts for Edwards
I took them, or rather her, along with me to hand out flyers this evening at Grand Central for the sake of the Plucky Underdog. It was my first piece of campaigning ever. Blanca slept comfortably, once I decided to propagandize inside, and didn't seem to pay much attention to the proceedings. (After all, if she did vote, only one issue would matter to her: a constant, ever-flowing supply of milk, interrupted by naps.) However, I found it all really enjoyable -- making up slogans on the spur of the moment, thrusting pieces of paper at unsuspecting passersby, and engaging in debates with the more curious. A sample:
'Me: Vote for the best candidate, John Edwards, on March 2nd!
Passerby (tall, businesslike type, with chiseled jaw and no-nonsense demeanor): Why is he the best candidate?
M: [Discourse on income inequality, Kerry's obfuscation, etc.]
P: What do you mean by income inequality?
M: [Description thereof.]
P: Is he a socialist?
M: [with barely suppressed guffaw] No.
Another possible response was: well, sir, I don't think you have anything to fear about socialist influence in today's Democratic Party . . .
While the Edwardsites were soldiering along at one GCT entrance, Team Kerry staked out the other. Here's what I noticed, based on a lifetime's lack of knowledge of political science and grassroots campaigning:
Posters
Kerry: lots o' brightly colored posters, suitable for wrapping round poles.
Edwards: posters, yes, but no pole-wrappers, and not quite as many.
Brochures
Kerry: again, lots o' colors.
Edwards: Xeroxed handouts.
As I was about to leave, I met a fellow Caltech housemate who's now teaching political science at NYU. We cheerfully agreed that we were both going to vote for Edwards, though he's probably going to get clobbered. I hope, though, that the best candidate has more of a chance than the pundits credit him with. We are not Kerry's sheep.
I took them, or rather her, along with me to hand out flyers this evening at Grand Central for the sake of the Plucky Underdog. It was my first piece of campaigning ever. Blanca slept comfortably, once I decided to propagandize inside, and didn't seem to pay much attention to the proceedings. (After all, if she did vote, only one issue would matter to her: a constant, ever-flowing supply of milk, interrupted by naps.) However, I found it all really enjoyable -- making up slogans on the spur of the moment, thrusting pieces of paper at unsuspecting passersby, and engaging in debates with the more curious. A sample:
'Me: Vote for the best candidate, John Edwards, on March 2nd!
Passerby (tall, businesslike type, with chiseled jaw and no-nonsense demeanor): Why is he the best candidate?
M: [Discourse on income inequality, Kerry's obfuscation, etc.]
P: What do you mean by income inequality?
M: [Description thereof.]
P: Is he a socialist?
M: [with barely suppressed guffaw] No.
Another possible response was: well, sir, I don't think you have anything to fear about socialist influence in today's Democratic Party . . .
While the Edwardsites were soldiering along at one GCT entrance, Team Kerry staked out the other. Here's what I noticed, based on a lifetime's lack of knowledge of political science and grassroots campaigning:
Posters
Kerry: lots o' brightly colored posters, suitable for wrapping round poles.
Edwards: posters, yes, but no pole-wrappers, and not quite as many.
Brochures
Kerry: again, lots o' colors.
Edwards: Xeroxed handouts.
As I was about to leave, I met a fellow Caltech housemate who's now teaching political science at NYU. We cheerfully agreed that we were both going to vote for Edwards, though he's probably going to get clobbered. I hope, though, that the best candidate has more of a chance than the pundits credit him with. We are not Kerry's sheep.
2/23/04
Wanted: fact-checker (copy editor?) for Nextbook
OBITUARY
Yossel Birstein, Novelist and Raconteur
For 13 years, Birstein traveled with painter Yosl Bergner from Poland through Tahiti, Panama, and Australia. In 1950, he arrived in Israel, where he produced Oyf Shmole Trotwarn (Narrow Paths), the first Yiddish novel of kibbutz life, before switching to Hebrew. His works include Don't Call Me Job and "The Blood Bond."
Um...he never "switched to Hebrew." He started writing in Hebrew once he came to Israel (or perhaps even before?), but continued to create important work in Yiddish. This bilingual literary output is part of what made Birstein remarkable, and at the same time a continuation of Jewish literary tradition. (Oh, and who spells his name "Yossel"?)
OBITUARY
Yossel Birstein, Novelist and Raconteur
For 13 years, Birstein traveled with painter Yosl Bergner from Poland through Tahiti, Panama, and Australia. In 1950, he arrived in Israel, where he produced Oyf Shmole Trotwarn (Narrow Paths), the first Yiddish novel of kibbutz life, before switching to Hebrew. His works include Don't Call Me Job and "The Blood Bond."
Um...he never "switched to Hebrew." He started writing in Hebrew once he came to Israel (or perhaps even before?), but continued to create important work in Yiddish. This bilingual literary output is part of what made Birstein remarkable, and at the same time a continuation of Jewish literary tradition. (Oh, and who spells his name "Yossel"?)
2/22/04
Conservosexuality, II
In a comment on my earlier post, Naomi Chana asks:
Hmmm. I wonder if the Reform movement has issued a halfway coherent halakhic defense of *its* position on homosexuality. (I certainly hope so, because I'm not really qualified to write one.)
Curious myself, I used a one-of-a-kind, creative search method over millions of Web sites. It turns out that a satisfying Conservative teshuvah on homosexuality might already have been written -- by the Central Committee of American Rabbis, i.e. the Reform movement. It's longish, and I haven't had a chance to dissect it thoroughly. Maybe you, Faithful Readers, can go through it, and then we can discuss it together later. However, on a quick once-over, it seems to consider the main points I talked about earlier. The problem, I think, is that the responsum fails to acknowledge that the Rabbis themselves acknowledged the possibility of "uprooting" Torah legislation. This omission, I would guess, is due to the greater liberality of the Reform movement toward halachah, which does not see itself as a continuation of the Rabbinic tradition.
Any Conservative approach would have to answer the same question that the CCAR responsum addresses: how can we approve of homosexuality when the Torah forbids it? However, the Reform answer (which is multi-faceted) is not meant to maintain continuity with Chazal. A Conservative answer would have to convince its readers of such a continuity.
A Conservative responsum, also (and as I said earlier) would have to carefully critique R. Joel Roth's teshuvah in the proceedings of the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards. I do mean to post on this in the future, but it will be more difficult. Why? Well, the CJLS responsa are not on-line, as I've complained before. Making them accessible might play into the hands of those who . . . um, want to learn and teach Torah.
(Postscript: Actually, the Roth teshuvah is available on-line, through a helpful collection of resources and essays maintained by Keshet, an organization which calls itself "the Jewish Theological Seminary's student group advocating for social and religious equality for Jews of all sexual orientations within the Conservative movement." Their Web site also includes a link to a teshuvah authored by Rabbi Stuart Kellman of Congregation Netivot Shalom in Berkeley. Though liberally inclined and well-written, I don't find it as narrowly drafted as the CCAR responsum, and it fails to adequately defend the arguments which Roth attacks in his teshuvah.)
As an afterthought, it occurs to me that a Conservative responsum would also have to address one additional issue. In his teshuvah, R. Roth implies, or says directly (I don't remember which) that those who follow halachah are duty-bound to follow his conclusion. I don't mean to accuse him of arrogance -- such confidence in one's ajudication is part and parcel of the shu"t literature. However, Conservative halachah, if it is to occupy a middle-of-the-road position, must allow multiple interpretations.
That is to say, oftentimes Conservative Jews are asked, "Why doesn't the C. movement hew more closely to halachah?" When the definition of the H-word is pushed on a little bit, though, it turns out that what the questioner is referring to is his (or her) brand of halachah. Many of the assumptions, narrow readings, and over-stringent interpretations made by R. Roth in his teshuvah are not native to halachah, but only to this rabbi's instantiation thereof, which one is not obligated to follow. Unless, of course, one is a student in or member of an institution for which R. Roth is the mara d'asra. And, unfortunately, he is. Or was.
Post-postscript: On rereading R. Simcha Roth's teshuvah (thanks, Apikorsus Online, for pointing it out
-- I guess I wasn't paying attention the first time I saw it), it seems that it indeed addresses all the points one would want in a Conservative responsum on the matter.
In addition, the more I think about it, the more I realize that a point-by-point refutation of Joel Roth's teshuvah is unnecessary, and even more so by the likes of me -- especially since Dorff and S. Roth seem already to have done so.
Perhaps what is needed now is simply an internal battle in the Conservative movement, so that misplaced legal formalism can be acknowledged as such.
In a comment on my earlier post, Naomi Chana asks:
Hmmm. I wonder if the Reform movement has issued a halfway coherent halakhic defense of *its* position on homosexuality. (I certainly hope so, because I'm not really qualified to write one.)
Curious myself, I used a one-of-a-kind, creative search method over millions of Web sites. It turns out that a satisfying Conservative teshuvah on homosexuality might already have been written -- by the Central Committee of American Rabbis, i.e. the Reform movement. It's longish, and I haven't had a chance to dissect it thoroughly. Maybe you, Faithful Readers, can go through it, and then we can discuss it together later. However, on a quick once-over, it seems to consider the main points I talked about earlier. The problem, I think, is that the responsum fails to acknowledge that the Rabbis themselves acknowledged the possibility of "uprooting" Torah legislation. This omission, I would guess, is due to the greater liberality of the Reform movement toward halachah, which does not see itself as a continuation of the Rabbinic tradition.
Any Conservative approach would have to answer the same question that the CCAR responsum addresses: how can we approve of homosexuality when the Torah forbids it? However, the Reform answer (which is multi-faceted) is not meant to maintain continuity with Chazal. A Conservative answer would have to convince its readers of such a continuity.
A Conservative responsum, also (and as I said earlier) would have to carefully critique R. Joel Roth's teshuvah in the proceedings of the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards. I do mean to post on this in the future, but it will be more difficult. Why? Well, the CJLS responsa are not on-line, as I've complained before. Making them accessible might play into the hands of those who . . . um, want to learn and teach Torah.
(Postscript: Actually, the Roth teshuvah is available on-line, through a helpful collection of resources and essays maintained by Keshet, an organization which calls itself "the Jewish Theological Seminary's student group advocating for social and religious equality for Jews of all sexual orientations within the Conservative movement." Their Web site also includes a link to a teshuvah authored by Rabbi Stuart Kellman of Congregation Netivot Shalom in Berkeley. Though liberally inclined and well-written, I don't find it as narrowly drafted as the CCAR responsum, and it fails to adequately defend the arguments which Roth attacks in his teshuvah.)
As an afterthought, it occurs to me that a Conservative responsum would also have to address one additional issue. In his teshuvah, R. Roth implies, or says directly (I don't remember which) that those who follow halachah are duty-bound to follow his conclusion. I don't mean to accuse him of arrogance -- such confidence in one's ajudication is part and parcel of the shu"t literature. However, Conservative halachah, if it is to occupy a middle-of-the-road position, must allow multiple interpretations.
That is to say, oftentimes Conservative Jews are asked, "Why doesn't the C. movement hew more closely to halachah?" When the definition of the H-word is pushed on a little bit, though, it turns out that what the questioner is referring to is his (or her) brand of halachah. Many of the assumptions, narrow readings, and over-stringent interpretations made by R. Roth in his teshuvah are not native to halachah, but only to this rabbi's instantiation thereof, which one is not obligated to follow. Unless, of course, one is a student in or member of an institution for which R. Roth is the mara d'asra. And, unfortunately, he is. Or was.
Post-postscript: On rereading R. Simcha Roth's teshuvah (thanks, Apikorsus Online, for pointing it out
-- I guess I wasn't paying attention the first time I saw it), it seems that it indeed addresses all the points one would want in a Conservative responsum on the matter.
In addition, the more I think about it, the more I realize that a point-by-point refutation of Joel Roth's teshuvah is unnecessary, and even more so by the likes of me -- especially since Dorff and S. Roth seem already to have done so.
Perhaps what is needed now is simply an internal battle in the Conservative movement, so that misplaced legal formalism can be acknowledged as such.
2/20/04
Stepping out of character for a moment . . .
This isn't a politiblog, nor do I want it to be, but I want to encourage all my readers to vote for John Edwards on March 2nd. The differences between him and Kerry are not related to policy. With regard to the war in Iraq, which I think was generally a good idea despite Bush's unprecedented lack of planning and actively harmful foreign policy, both Democratic candidates seem to have supported it, though Dean drove them (too far) left in their votes against continuing funding for troops in Iraq. In domestic policy, too, not much separates them. (Edwards' campaigning on trade is misleading and a tad disturbing.) However, much I have heard and read about Kerry serves to emphasize his great weaknesses of personality: a tendency to make clear positions seem less clear, even suspicious. This, plus his lack of articulateness and tendency to bloviate, will make him an easy target in November.
This isn't a politiblog, nor do I want it to be, but I want to encourage all my readers to vote for John Edwards on March 2nd. The differences between him and Kerry are not related to policy. With regard to the war in Iraq, which I think was generally a good idea despite Bush's unprecedented lack of planning and actively harmful foreign policy, both Democratic candidates seem to have supported it, though Dean drove them (too far) left in their votes against continuing funding for troops in Iraq. In domestic policy, too, not much separates them. (Edwards' campaigning on trade is misleading and a tad disturbing.) However, much I have heard and read about Kerry serves to emphasize his great weaknesses of personality: a tendency to make clear positions seem less clear, even suspicious. This, plus his lack of articulateness and tendency to bloviate, will make him an easy target in November.
2/18/04
Direct from Houston, it's poetry!
I am very honored to be in the new issue of Lyric, whose fifth issue is hitting newsstands everywhere. Well, probably not exactly everywhere, but I encourage you to buy a copy.
It's actually not my poems, more's the pity. I got in on the coattails of a Yiddish poet that more people should know about, Yankev Glatshteyn, by translating two of his poems:
* * *
GOOD NIGHT, WORLD
Yankev Glatshteyn
Good night, world,
big stinking world.
Not you, but I slam the door.
With my long robe,
fiery yellow patch
and proud step,
at my own command
I’m going back into the ghetto.
Trampling baptismal traces.
I roll in your garbage.
Praise to you, praise, praise,
hunchbacked Jewish life.
To hell, world, with your polluted cultures.
Though everything is laid waste
I dust myself in your dust
sad Jewish life.
Swinish German, hateful Polack,
thieving Amalek, land of gorging and slobbing,
flabby democracy with your cold
compresses of sympathy.
Good night, electrified brazen world.
Back to my kerosene, candlestick shadows,
eternal October, minute stars,
to my crooked streets, hunched lanterns,
my stray pages, my twenty-four books
of Bible, my Talmud. Back to knotty
passages, to shining Yiddish glosses,
to judgment, deep intent, duty, justice:
world, I stride with joy to the quiet ghetto light.
Good night. To you, world, I donate
all my liberators.
Take the Jesusmarxes, choke on their bravery.
Die for a drop of our baptized blood.
I hope that though it tarries
my waiting will rise up daily.
Green leaves will still rustle
on our withered tree.
I need no comfort.
I’m going back to my four cubits,
from Wagner’s idol-music to wordless tune and murmur.
I kiss you, shaggy Jewish life.
There weeps in me the joy of return.
Paris, 1938
* * *
WAGONS
Yankev Glatshteyn
With signs of far away
The wagons arrive.
The doors thrown open
But no one waits to meet them.
The village is still, bells of quietness sound.
Every blade of grass bows
Under the enflamed cool.
A few sick men come down from the wagons
And a wise word is stuck
In every thoughtful head:
God, on your scale of good and bad
Put out a plate of food,
Or toss out, at least,
Some oats for the skinny horses.
The deadness of the village grows darker.
A terrible quietness befalls the Jewish beards
And everyone glimpses in the other’s eyes
That a prayer is being trembled in fear:
When death comes
May I not remain alive alone.
Don’t overlook me with my thin bones.
* * *
The issue's chock-full of other good stuff, which I will post here over the next few days. Particularly noteworthy are poems by Li-Young Lee, Mark Doty, Robert Winner, and Paul Guest. But most of the poems in the issue are good. That sentence is unbelievable to any regular reader of poetry journals. Most poetry is crap; most poetry journals are crap. Lyric seems to be a shining exception.
I am very honored to be in the new issue of Lyric, whose fifth issue is hitting newsstands everywhere. Well, probably not exactly everywhere, but I encourage you to buy a copy.
It's actually not my poems, more's the pity. I got in on the coattails of a Yiddish poet that more people should know about, Yankev Glatshteyn, by translating two of his poems:
* * *
GOOD NIGHT, WORLD
Yankev Glatshteyn
Good night, world,
big stinking world.
Not you, but I slam the door.
With my long robe,
fiery yellow patch
and proud step,
at my own command
I’m going back into the ghetto.
Trampling baptismal traces.
I roll in your garbage.
Praise to you, praise, praise,
hunchbacked Jewish life.
To hell, world, with your polluted cultures.
Though everything is laid waste
I dust myself in your dust
sad Jewish life.
Swinish German, hateful Polack,
thieving Amalek, land of gorging and slobbing,
flabby democracy with your cold
compresses of sympathy.
Good night, electrified brazen world.
Back to my kerosene, candlestick shadows,
eternal October, minute stars,
to my crooked streets, hunched lanterns,
my stray pages, my twenty-four books
of Bible, my Talmud. Back to knotty
passages, to shining Yiddish glosses,
to judgment, deep intent, duty, justice:
world, I stride with joy to the quiet ghetto light.
Good night. To you, world, I donate
all my liberators.
Take the Jesusmarxes, choke on their bravery.
Die for a drop of our baptized blood.
I hope that though it tarries
my waiting will rise up daily.
Green leaves will still rustle
on our withered tree.
I need no comfort.
I’m going back to my four cubits,
from Wagner’s idol-music to wordless tune and murmur.
I kiss you, shaggy Jewish life.
There weeps in me the joy of return.
Paris, 1938
* * *
WAGONS
Yankev Glatshteyn
With signs of far away
The wagons arrive.
The doors thrown open
But no one waits to meet them.
The village is still, bells of quietness sound.
Every blade of grass bows
Under the enflamed cool.
A few sick men come down from the wagons
And a wise word is stuck
In every thoughtful head:
God, on your scale of good and bad
Put out a plate of food,
Or toss out, at least,
Some oats for the skinny horses.
The deadness of the village grows darker.
A terrible quietness befalls the Jewish beards
And everyone glimpses in the other’s eyes
That a prayer is being trembled in fear:
When death comes
May I not remain alive alone.
Don’t overlook me with my thin bones.
* * *
The issue's chock-full of other good stuff, which I will post here over the next few days. Particularly noteworthy are poems by Li-Young Lee, Mark Doty, Robert Winner, and Paul Guest. But most of the poems in the issue are good. That sentence is unbelievable to any regular reader of poetry journals. Most poetry is crap; most poetry journals are crap. Lyric seems to be a shining exception.
2/17/04
The Gray Lady discovers the Gretsch
The Times took its sweet time printing its Williamsburg artists article. It's a well written piece -- a wonder what one can do with 1,300 words to work with. (See the 314-word version of the same story.) I doubt the reporter knows Yiddish, and for that reason I think she fails to convey the urgent, dramatic, even racist and demagogic tone of much of the quasi-official Chasidic protest, and the interestingly riven intra-Chasidic dynamics. Many Times articles suffer from such over-mild portrayals of complicated brawls in the public square.
The Times took its sweet time printing its Williamsburg artists article. It's a well written piece -- a wonder what one can do with 1,300 words to work with. (See the 314-word version of the same story.) I doubt the reporter knows Yiddish, and for that reason I think she fails to convey the urgent, dramatic, even racist and demagogic tone of much of the quasi-official Chasidic protest, and the interestingly riven intra-Chasidic dynamics. Many Times articles suffer from such over-mild portrayals of complicated brawls in the public square.
2/16/04
Conservosexuality
It seems Rabbi Ismar Schorsch, the chancellor of JTS, has issued his psak:
"The principal reason for not ordaining [homosexuals] and not performing commitment ceremonies is that there is simply no halachic justification for it," Schorsch said.
Whether he was asked for his judgment seems immaterial to Schorsch himself. (Does this mean that even the Conservative movement now approves of daat Torah, i.e. rabbinic infallibility?)
I have the sinking feeling that I will have to write something on this issue in the coming weeks. Just for purposes of preview, I'd like to lay out the points that any pro-homosexuality pseudo-teshuvah would have to detail. ("Pseudo-teshuvah," because I'm not a rabbi.) Of course, one would first and foremost, from a Conservative halachic perspective, have to deal with the drown-'em-in-erudition-but-skimp-on-the-argumentation teshuvah of Rabbi Joel Roth, which stretches over a numbingly wide expanse in the latest collection of responsa from the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards. To devote even a preview blog to a point-by-point refutation of Rabbi Roth's teshuvah, however, would take hours. So I'll save that for the main event.
In any case, here are the bare outlines of what I would try to say.
1. Any statement in the Torah cannot be understood without interpretation. Any so-called "simple reading" of the Torahs prohibition is not relevant to a halachic argument. [Though I think it's relevant to mention Jacob Milgrom's argument in his Anchor Bible commentary on Leviticus, according to which homosexuality, only between men, and only in the Land of Israel, is prohibited because it does not lead to conventionally borne offspring. He recommends that gay couples adopt children.]
2. However, the chain of Biblical interpretation is not broken. Halachic authority is not based on unquestioning acceptance of Talmudic conclusions, but rather on understanding of their approach and exercising our own intellect and fear of God within that system.
3. In an important Talmudic discussion, the word תועבה (toevah) is interpreted as a term of moral censure: תועה בה (to'eh bah), "straying in it." What this means is the material of that lengthy discussion, which I won't go into here. Suffice it to say, however, that despite Rabbi David Weiss Halivni's claims to the contrary, the Rabbis did approach ajudication in explicitly moral terms on more than one occasion, this being one of them.
4. If Chazal took into account their criteria of moral censure in understanding the meaning of the term toevah, it would be inappropriate for us not to take into account our moral criteria. However, moral arguments for the immorality of homosexuality are unconvincing.
5. How to treat the Torah verses halachically is, obviously, a complicated matter, but it would not be out of place to mention that the rabbis often halachically "uprooted" sections from the Torah, or reinterpreted them into something close to legal impossibilities. This would seem to be viable in this case as well.
It seems Rabbi Ismar Schorsch, the chancellor of JTS, has issued his psak:
"The principal reason for not ordaining [homosexuals] and not performing commitment ceremonies is that there is simply no halachic justification for it," Schorsch said.
Whether he was asked for his judgment seems immaterial to Schorsch himself. (Does this mean that even the Conservative movement now approves of daat Torah, i.e. rabbinic infallibility?)
I have the sinking feeling that I will have to write something on this issue in the coming weeks. Just for purposes of preview, I'd like to lay out the points that any pro-homosexuality pseudo-teshuvah would have to detail. ("Pseudo-teshuvah," because I'm not a rabbi.) Of course, one would first and foremost, from a Conservative halachic perspective, have to deal with the drown-'em-in-erudition-but-skimp-on-the-argumentation teshuvah of Rabbi Joel Roth, which stretches over a numbingly wide expanse in the latest collection of responsa from the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards. To devote even a preview blog to a point-by-point refutation of Rabbi Roth's teshuvah, however, would take hours. So I'll save that for the main event.
In any case, here are the bare outlines of what I would try to say.
1. Any statement in the Torah cannot be understood without interpretation. Any so-called "simple reading" of the Torahs prohibition is not relevant to a halachic argument. [Though I think it's relevant to mention Jacob Milgrom's argument in his Anchor Bible commentary on Leviticus, according to which homosexuality, only between men, and only in the Land of Israel, is prohibited because it does not lead to conventionally borne offspring. He recommends that gay couples adopt children.]
2. However, the chain of Biblical interpretation is not broken. Halachic authority is not based on unquestioning acceptance of Talmudic conclusions, but rather on understanding of their approach and exercising our own intellect and fear of God within that system.
3. In an important Talmudic discussion, the word תועבה (toevah) is interpreted as a term of moral censure: תועה בה (to'eh bah), "straying in it." What this means is the material of that lengthy discussion, which I won't go into here. Suffice it to say, however, that despite Rabbi David Weiss Halivni's claims to the contrary, the Rabbis did approach ajudication in explicitly moral terms on more than one occasion, this being one of them.
4. If Chazal took into account their criteria of moral censure in understanding the meaning of the term toevah, it would be inappropriate for us not to take into account our moral criteria. However, moral arguments for the immorality of homosexuality are unconvincing.
5. How to treat the Torah verses halachically is, obviously, a complicated matter, but it would not be out of place to mention that the rabbis often halachically "uprooted" sections from the Torah, or reinterpreted them into something close to legal impossibilities. This would seem to be viable in this case as well.
Want to see what I bought?
It's easier for me to brag about what I didn't buy at the SOY Seforim Sale. I could have spent hundreds of dollars there, but I figured that Blanca needs a chance at a college education, and, more immediately, enough space to sleep in our apartment. But I'll also list what I did come home with, along with an interesting tidbit from a few of them. Sociologically speaking, and surprisingly enough, I didn'teavesdrop on chance to overhear any spicy conversations or anything otherwise revelatory of the state of today's Orthodoxy. Shucks. (I wonder what the Students of JTS Seforim -- sorry, Sefarim -- Sale would look like? Sexual orientation checked at the door? [See next post.])
What I didn't buy (not because I didn't want to! Who is a hero? He who conquers his impulse!):
Hasidism on the Margin: Reconciliation, Antinomianism, & Messianism in Izbica & Radzin Hasidism, by Shaul Magid et al.;
פיוטי סליחות, a collection of out-of-print liturgical poetry edited by an all-star team of "those who wake the slumbering" (the traditional term for those who recover forgotten manuscripts), including Daniel Goldschmidt and Israel Ta-Shma;
כתר ירושלים, The Bible of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, According to the Text and Masorah of the Aleppo Codex and Related Manuscripts, Following the Methods of Rabbi Mordechai Breuer;
Happiness in Premodern Judaism: Virtue, Knowledge, and Well-Being, by Hava Tirosh-Samuelson.
What I did buy:
God and Other Minds: A Study of the Rational Justification of Belief in God, by Alvin Plantinga. ("[B]elief in other minds and belief in God are in the same epistemiological boat; hence if either is rational, so is the other. But obviously the former is rational; so, therefore, is the latter.")
Magic and Folklore in Rabbinic Literature, by Daniel Sperber. ("[Describing a source in Tanhuma] [The] Biblical teraphim . . . were made of slaughtered first-born men, salted and oiled. Then certain magical formulae were engraved on a golden plate. The resultant image was then placed in a niche in the wall, candles were lit beside it; it would speak in oracular fashion, answering questions and no doubt foretelling the future.") I particularly look forward to his translation and treatment of Yerushalmi Berachot 1:1.
בעלי התוספות, The Tosaphotists: Their History, Writings, and Methods, by Ephraim Urbach (Expect me to wax even more Ashkenazic over the next weeks and months . . .)
The Limits of Orthodox Theology: Maimonides' Thirteen Principles Reappraised, by Marc Shapiro ("Some kabbalists taught that as a punishment for what Maimonides wrote in his philosophical writings he was condemned to be reincarnated as a worm.")
הלכה, מנהג ומציאות באשכנז 1000-1350, Ritual, Custom and Reality in Franco-Germany, 1000-1350, by Israel M. Tashma
(As for Agnon's A Simple Story, suffice it to say that my purchase thereof is not so simple. I've tried to buy it twice from D-book, an Israeli on-line firm, which I would have recommended once upon a time. Now I have to go buy it somewhere in person, which might take me a while. Just -- cough, cough -- go on without me, fellow Book Schnooks! Leave me by the side of the road! And do so with the help of Kobi Haron's Web page.)
It's easier for me to brag about what I didn't buy at the SOY Seforim Sale. I could have spent hundreds of dollars there, but I figured that Blanca needs a chance at a college education, and, more immediately, enough space to sleep in our apartment. But I'll also list what I did come home with, along with an interesting tidbit from a few of them. Sociologically speaking, and surprisingly enough, I didn't
What I didn't buy (not because I didn't want to! Who is a hero? He who conquers his impulse!):
Hasidism on the Margin: Reconciliation, Antinomianism, & Messianism in Izbica & Radzin Hasidism, by Shaul Magid et al.;
פיוטי סליחות, a collection of out-of-print liturgical poetry edited by an all-star team of "those who wake the slumbering" (the traditional term for those who recover forgotten manuscripts), including Daniel Goldschmidt and Israel Ta-Shma;
כתר ירושלים, The Bible of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, According to the Text and Masorah of the Aleppo Codex and Related Manuscripts, Following the Methods of Rabbi Mordechai Breuer;
Happiness in Premodern Judaism: Virtue, Knowledge, and Well-Being, by Hava Tirosh-Samuelson.
What I did buy:
God and Other Minds: A Study of the Rational Justification of Belief in God, by Alvin Plantinga. ("[B]elief in other minds and belief in God are in the same epistemiological boat; hence if either is rational, so is the other. But obviously the former is rational; so, therefore, is the latter.")
Magic and Folklore in Rabbinic Literature, by Daniel Sperber. ("[Describing a source in Tanhuma] [The] Biblical teraphim . . . were made of slaughtered first-born men, salted and oiled. Then certain magical formulae were engraved on a golden plate. The resultant image was then placed in a niche in the wall, candles were lit beside it; it would speak in oracular fashion, answering questions and no doubt foretelling the future.") I particularly look forward to his translation and treatment of Yerushalmi Berachot 1:1.
בעלי התוספות, The Tosaphotists: Their History, Writings, and Methods, by Ephraim Urbach (Expect me to wax even more Ashkenazic over the next weeks and months . . .)
The Limits of Orthodox Theology: Maimonides' Thirteen Principles Reappraised, by Marc Shapiro ("Some kabbalists taught that as a punishment for what Maimonides wrote in his philosophical writings he was condemned to be reincarnated as a worm.")
הלכה, מנהג ומציאות באשכנז 1000-1350, Ritual, Custom and Reality in Franco-Germany, 1000-1350, by Israel M. Tashma
(As for Agnon's A Simple Story, suffice it to say that my purchase thereof is not so simple. I've tried to buy it twice from D-book, an Israeli on-line firm, which I would have recommended once upon a time. Now I have to go buy it somewhere in person, which might take me a while. Just -- cough, cough -- go on without me, fellow Book Schnooks! Leave me by the side of the road! And do so with the help of Kobi Haron's Web page.)
2/12/04
The early visit of an unwanted guest
Texas: West Nile virus infected bird found in Houston
(Excerpted from this report.)
Officials in Houston, Texas, have discovered West Nile virus in a bird, but
its early detection may not indicate a severe season. The fact the dead
blue jay (found in north west Houston on 22 Jan 2004) tested positive for
West Nile virus indicates the virus survived through winter and that Texas
can expect to grapple with the mosquitoborne virus again this summer,
according to Ray Parsons, head of Harris County's mosquito control division.
In 2003, infected birds were not found until May [2003], but the early
detection is probably not an indicator of the severity of the problem West
Nile [may] pose this year, the Houston Chronicle reported on Tue 10 Feb
2004. "There is really no need for alarm right now," Parsons said. "We
wanted to put this information out because if we find something, we want to
let the public know."
The vast majority of people who become infected with West Nile virus show
no symptoms, or only mild symptoms such as a low fever. Severe symptoms,
such as high fever, stiff neck, and muscle weakness, usually occur between
5 and 15 days after a bite from a virus-carrying mosquito, usually after
the month of June.
Texas: West Nile virus infected bird found in Houston
(Excerpted from this report.)
Officials in Houston, Texas, have discovered West Nile virus in a bird, but
its early detection may not indicate a severe season. The fact the dead
blue jay (found in north west Houston on 22 Jan 2004) tested positive for
West Nile virus indicates the virus survived through winter and that Texas
can expect to grapple with the mosquitoborne virus again this summer,
according to Ray Parsons, head of Harris County's mosquito control division.
In 2003, infected birds were not found until May [2003], but the early
detection is probably not an indicator of the severity of the problem West
Nile [may] pose this year, the Houston Chronicle reported on Tue 10 Feb
2004. "There is really no need for alarm right now," Parsons said. "We
wanted to put this information out because if we find something, we want to
let the public know."
The vast majority of people who become infected with West Nile virus show
no symptoms, or only mild symptoms such as a low fever. Severe symptoms,
such as high fever, stiff neck, and muscle weakness, usually occur between
5 and 15 days after a bite from a virus-carrying mosquito, usually after
the month of June.
2/9/04
2/8/04
Friends of Aron
Did anyone go to this? Want to tell me how it was? (I mean, I can read the pro-Aron Chasidic newspaper to tell me it was terrific, and the pro-Zalmen Leib newspaper to make dark insinuations about the proceedings, but an eyewitness report would be helpful.)
Cong. Yetev Lev D’satmar takes great pride in extending this invitation to participate in an extraordinary event, The Satmar Hasidic Community, in an expression of profound joy, is hosting a
Gala Engagement Party
celebrating the upcoming marriage of Mr. Joel Glantz and Ms. Roiza Blima Teitelbaum. The new bride is the daughter of Rabbi Mendel Teitelbaum, the eldest son of Rabbi Aron Teitelbaum, Chief Rabbi of Kiryas Joel in upstate Orange County, NY Rabbi Aron is the eldest son of the Satmar Grand Rebbe, Rabbi Moshe Teitelbum who proudly celebrates the engagement of his first great-grand-daughter.
Thousands of community members, from all over the five boroughs, Monroe, Monsey and beyond, are expected to attend this historic event. Your presence at this beautiful occasion, called a "Tnoyim", will greatly enhance the joy of the Teitelbaum family and the entire Satmar community. The event will be held in a specially constructed and heated tent on:
Saturday Night, February 7, 2004
At 10:15 PM
At the Corner of Lee Avenue and Taylor Street
Williamsburg, Brooklyn, New York
For more information, directions and to confirm your attendance at [...] or [...]. I look forward to personally greeting you at behalf of Cong. Yetve Lev this enjoyable and memorable evening.
Did anyone go to this? Want to tell me how it was? (I mean, I can read the pro-Aron Chasidic newspaper to tell me it was terrific, and the pro-Zalmen Leib newspaper to make dark insinuations about the proceedings, but an eyewitness report would be helpful.)
Cong. Yetev Lev D’satmar takes great pride in extending this invitation to participate in an extraordinary event, The Satmar Hasidic Community, in an expression of profound joy, is hosting a
Gala Engagement Party
celebrating the upcoming marriage of Mr. Joel Glantz and Ms. Roiza Blima Teitelbaum. The new bride is the daughter of Rabbi Mendel Teitelbaum, the eldest son of Rabbi Aron Teitelbaum, Chief Rabbi of Kiryas Joel in upstate Orange County, NY Rabbi Aron is the eldest son of the Satmar Grand Rebbe, Rabbi Moshe Teitelbum who proudly celebrates the engagement of his first great-grand-daughter.
Thousands of community members, from all over the five boroughs, Monroe, Monsey and beyond, are expected to attend this historic event. Your presence at this beautiful occasion, called a "Tnoyim", will greatly enhance the joy of the Teitelbaum family and the entire Satmar community. The event will be held in a specially constructed and heated tent on:
Saturday Night, February 7, 2004
At 10:15 PM
At the Corner of Lee Avenue and Taylor Street
Williamsburg, Brooklyn, New York
For more information, directions and to confirm your attendance at [...] or [...]. I look forward to personally greeting you at behalf of Cong. Yetve Lev this enjoyable and memorable evening.
2/5/04
Agnon the Yiddish novelist
It turns out, to no one's surprise, that I'm a book schnook. For some reason, I already feel guilty about not posting a cogent, witty, wide-ranging (i.e. Baraita-style) review of Shmuel Yosef Agnon's A Simple Story. I do have the perfect excuse: I haven't read the book yet, and my copy is still winging its way to me over the great seas separating me and the Holy Land.
I have read some Agnon, though not enough. Thus my first installment, in which I will reveal to you the secret to getting the most entertainment out of your Agnon dollar, providing you can read him in Hebrew.
What's that, you ask? Read him in the Ashkenazic accent of your childhood, or, if you didn't have that sort of childhood, learn the accent (like I did) or find someone whose Ashkenazis you can imitate. The fact is that Agnon is the best prose writer in Yiddish of the twentieth century, so you might as well read him with an appropriate inflection.
Agnon wrote in Hebrew! True. But the English word "Hebrew" generalizes a great number of different sorts of language available in traditional Jewish life both yesterday and (perhaps even more so) today. In the big grab-bag "Hebrew," I mean, are found all of the following: Biblical Hebrew (in all its varying strata and literary registers), Rabbinic Hebrew, both early and late, Medieval Hebrew, modern literary and spoken Hebrew (starting around the 19th century), and, most recently, modern Hebrew as spoken in Israel, called "Ivrit."
When I separate "modern Hebrew" from "Ivrit, " I'm trying to make clear that it was possible to write Hebrew, and even to some extent to speak Hebrew, before the founding of the state of Israel. This Hebrew, though a modern language, sounded quite a bit different than modern Israeli Hebrew sounds to us. In the Eastern-European, Yiddish-speaking context, and to a lesser extent today as well, such allusive, literary Hebrew is called loshn-koydesh, or, more academically, Ashkenazic Hebrew. I would argue (though I don't have the time or the expertise to do so here) that Agnon wrote in this very language. (I don't know how Agnon spoke Hebrew in the pre-war-milieu [1935] in which A Simple Story was written.) If one maintains that Yiddish and Ashkenazic Hebrew form a continuous cultural-linguistic system, then it's not too much of a stretch to say that Agnon wrote in Yiddish. In fact, some linguists hold that modern Israeli Hebrew is a "relexification" of modern Yiddish. I'm still not clear what that word means, but I think it refers to some sort of one-to-one replacement of Yiddish words by Hebrew equivalents. I'm no linguist, so I can't judge whether this is true. However, it is the case that a reader of Yiddish -- who can also read Hebrew -- feels completely at home in Agnon. It is a through-the-looking-glass world in which the Yiddish cultural idiom is rendered somehow more monumental and imposing through its Ashkenazic Hebrew transcription.
Ashkenazic Hebrew is a complicated language, and an entire book on the topic, edited by Lewis Glinert, appeared some years ago. Particuarly fascinating is Dovid Katz's article on penultimate stress, one of the markers of Ashkenazic Hebrew -- when, where, and in what contexts it appears. (For example, the first verse of the Bible starts, in Israeli pronunciation, bereyshit bara elohim. The Ashkenazic Hebrew pronunciation might be berey'shis bo'ro eloy'him, or bereyshis' boro' eloyhim', depending on the context; the latter more formal, in communal Torah reading, the former more colloquial, for example, in the context of Torah study.)
These days, Ashkenazic Hebrew is no healthier than Yiddish, sad to say. If you look carefully, though, you can still see traces. There are people who still write loshn-koydesh poetry (including you host), of higher or lower quality. Many of this falls under the category of payet, or religious poetry. Or even closer to the ken of most modern Jews: listen to the way Israelis (and everyone else) sing "Hatikvah": "...Ne'fesh yehu'di homi'ah. Ulefa'atei miz'rach kadi'mah, ay'in letsi'on tsofi'ah." That's right, it's sung with Ashkenazi stresses, though with an Israeli, "Ashkesfard" pronunciation.
So if you can stumble through a page of Agnon in Hebrew, try reading it in Ashkenazis. You might be glad you did!
(Another example of a great writer in modern Ashkenazic Hebrew: Bialik. Even more interesting is the fact that a number of his later poems were specifically written to be read in "Sefardic" (actually "Ashkesfardic") pronunciation. Yet another category of writers, who I hope to talk about at some later date, are those who write in both Yiddish and modern Israeli Hebrew. Perhaps this category's greatest, though hopefully not its last practitioner, was Yosl Birshtein, who died a month ago.)
Postcript: Kobi Haron, who has relatives from the Second Aliyah (and more knowledge about Agnon than I do) informs me that very few Hebrew-speakers in Israel, even in the early days of the twentieth century, actually spoke Hebrew with an Ashkenazi accent. Any other relevant reminiscences out there?
Enentation comments
It turns out, to no one's surprise, that I'm a book schnook. For some reason, I already feel guilty about not posting a cogent, witty, wide-ranging (i.e. Baraita-style) review of Shmuel Yosef Agnon's A Simple Story. I do have the perfect excuse: I haven't read the book yet, and my copy is still winging its way to me over the great seas separating me and the Holy Land.
I have read some Agnon, though not enough. Thus my first installment, in which I will reveal to you the secret to getting the most entertainment out of your Agnon dollar, providing you can read him in Hebrew.
What's that, you ask? Read him in the Ashkenazic accent of your childhood, or, if you didn't have that sort of childhood, learn the accent (like I did) or find someone whose Ashkenazis you can imitate. The fact is that Agnon is the best prose writer in Yiddish of the twentieth century, so you might as well read him with an appropriate inflection.
Agnon wrote in Hebrew! True. But the English word "Hebrew" generalizes a great number of different sorts of language available in traditional Jewish life both yesterday and (perhaps even more so) today. In the big grab-bag "Hebrew," I mean, are found all of the following: Biblical Hebrew (in all its varying strata and literary registers), Rabbinic Hebrew, both early and late, Medieval Hebrew, modern literary and spoken Hebrew (starting around the 19th century), and, most recently, modern Hebrew as spoken in Israel, called "Ivrit."
When I separate "modern Hebrew" from "Ivrit, " I'm trying to make clear that it was possible to write Hebrew, and even to some extent to speak Hebrew, before the founding of the state of Israel. This Hebrew, though a modern language, sounded quite a bit different than modern Israeli Hebrew sounds to us. In the Eastern-European, Yiddish-speaking context, and to a lesser extent today as well, such allusive, literary Hebrew is called loshn-koydesh, or, more academically, Ashkenazic Hebrew. I would argue (though I don't have the time or the expertise to do so here) that Agnon wrote in this very language. (I don't know how Agnon spoke Hebrew in the pre-war-milieu [1935] in which A Simple Story was written.) If one maintains that Yiddish and Ashkenazic Hebrew form a continuous cultural-linguistic system, then it's not too much of a stretch to say that Agnon wrote in Yiddish. In fact, some linguists hold that modern Israeli Hebrew is a "relexification" of modern Yiddish. I'm still not clear what that word means, but I think it refers to some sort of one-to-one replacement of Yiddish words by Hebrew equivalents. I'm no linguist, so I can't judge whether this is true. However, it is the case that a reader of Yiddish -- who can also read Hebrew -- feels completely at home in Agnon. It is a through-the-looking-glass world in which the Yiddish cultural idiom is rendered somehow more monumental and imposing through its Ashkenazic Hebrew transcription.
Ashkenazic Hebrew is a complicated language, and an entire book on the topic, edited by Lewis Glinert, appeared some years ago. Particuarly fascinating is Dovid Katz's article on penultimate stress, one of the markers of Ashkenazic Hebrew -- when, where, and in what contexts it appears. (For example, the first verse of the Bible starts, in Israeli pronunciation, bereyshit bara elohim. The Ashkenazic Hebrew pronunciation might be berey'shis bo'ro eloy'him, or bereyshis' boro' eloyhim', depending on the context; the latter more formal, in communal Torah reading, the former more colloquial, for example, in the context of Torah study.)
These days, Ashkenazic Hebrew is no healthier than Yiddish, sad to say. If you look carefully, though, you can still see traces. There are people who still write loshn-koydesh poetry (including you host), of higher or lower quality. Many of this falls under the category of payet, or religious poetry. Or even closer to the ken of most modern Jews: listen to the way Israelis (and everyone else) sing "Hatikvah": "...Ne'fesh yehu'di homi'ah. Ulefa'atei miz'rach kadi'mah, ay'in letsi'on tsofi'ah." That's right, it's sung with Ashkenazi stresses, though with an Israeli, "Ashkesfard" pronunciation.
So if you can stumble through a page of Agnon in Hebrew, try reading it in Ashkenazis. You might be glad you did!
(Another example of a great writer in modern Ashkenazic Hebrew: Bialik. Even more interesting is the fact that a number of his later poems were specifically written to be read in "Sefardic" (actually "Ashkesfardic") pronunciation. Yet another category of writers, who I hope to talk about at some later date, are those who write in both Yiddish and modern Israeli Hebrew. Perhaps this category's greatest, though hopefully not its last practitioner, was Yosl Birshtein, who died a month ago.)
Postcript: Kobi Haron, who has relatives from the Second Aliyah (and more knowledge about Agnon than I do) informs me that very few Hebrew-speakers in Israel, even in the early days of the twentieth century, actually spoke Hebrew with an Ashkenazi accent. Any other relevant reminiscences out there?
Enentation comments
2/3/04
In which I answer to a lower authority
The next time I go to the Associated grocery store on 23rd Street and Second Avenue, I can either buy the premium kosher meat that's recently appeared there -- a variety of tempting cuts, quite pricey, but a lot more convenient than the nearest proper butcher -- or I can eat something I've never eaten before: Hebrew National.
I have mixed feelings about this new possibility. For many years, Hebrew National was considered kosher enough to eat by an ever-shrinking slice of the Jewish pie. I don't know how long Hebrew National has been a brand unto itself, though now it seems to be part of some food monolith with the unappetizing name of ConAgra. In any case, though, until recently, it was possible for a product to be kosher without being certified by some large national organization. Indeed, kosher certification by those organizations (e.g. the O-U), is only eighty-some years old, if this on-line history is reliable. Widespread use of these hechsherim as the gold standard is even more recent.
What is the effect of this ever-broadening appeal to organizational hechsherim? As with any organizational convergence, the end result is more conservative (with a small "c") -- the national supervising organizations are more liberal than some other alternatives (like some ultra-Orthodox hechsherim often seen on Israeli products), and more stringent than others.
The problem for Hebrew National is that, for whatever reason, what one might call the "stringency curve" for traditional Jewish religious observance is sharply right-shifted. In English: most observant folks are on the rightward end of the spectrum. It used to be that the imprimatur of Rabbi T. Stern (the name on Hebrew National products until the recent change) was enough for many people who kept kosher. But as this right-shift began to take effect over the past few decades, a premium was placed on mass-market hechsherim. Loyalty to rabbis known personally in one's community ceded pride of place to brand loyalty, rigorous attention to the most stringent halachic detail, and a new industry of kosher supervision. One proof of this can be brought from the reasons I heard given for people refusing to eat Hebrew National when good old Rabbi Stern was its certifying rabbi -- the only evidence adduced was darkly whispered "leniencies," and rarely anything more specific than that.
All this means that for the duration of Rabbi Stern's Hebrew National hechsher there was a gap between national brand-name hechsherim and a smaller-scale, non-hegemonic definition of kashrut. It would have been perfect for the Conservative movement to take advantage of, an opportunity to explain the difference between Jewish law and tradition and standardized Orthodox stringency. National kashrut organizations encourage stringent observance - but that is not the only variety of kashrut. There is a community standard, independent of the kosher industry, which has not yet been completely coopted. Unforunately, while many Conservative Jews probably did eat Hebrew National, they weren't the sort that were likely to keep kashrut in general. Thus, while I approved theoretically of Rabbi Stern's hechsher, I never ate of it myself, since I never found a kosher-keeping community that approved of it.
With not a completely light heart, then, but with a curious palate, I'm going to buy myself some Hebrew National hot dogs next time I'm in the store, with the triangle-K brand of hechsher. For those of you who find these fine distinctions faintly ridiculous, consider them another reason to be vegetarian.
Postscript: The Kosher Blog has links to more information about the late Rabbi T. Stern, the lone certifier. (I got his name wrong, but I've corrected it above.) Also, it seems I missed the number-one reason why the right-shift rendered Stern's certification not kosher enough: it wasn't glatt kosher.
Enentation comments
The next time I go to the Associated grocery store on 23rd Street and Second Avenue, I can either buy the premium kosher meat that's recently appeared there -- a variety of tempting cuts, quite pricey, but a lot more convenient than the nearest proper butcher -- or I can eat something I've never eaten before: Hebrew National.
I have mixed feelings about this new possibility. For many years, Hebrew National was considered kosher enough to eat by an ever-shrinking slice of the Jewish pie. I don't know how long Hebrew National has been a brand unto itself, though now it seems to be part of some food monolith with the unappetizing name of ConAgra. In any case, though, until recently, it was possible for a product to be kosher without being certified by some large national organization. Indeed, kosher certification by those organizations (e.g. the O-U), is only eighty-some years old, if this on-line history is reliable. Widespread use of these hechsherim as the gold standard is even more recent.
What is the effect of this ever-broadening appeal to organizational hechsherim? As with any organizational convergence, the end result is more conservative (with a small "c") -- the national supervising organizations are more liberal than some other alternatives (like some ultra-Orthodox hechsherim often seen on Israeli products), and more stringent than others.
The problem for Hebrew National is that, for whatever reason, what one might call the "stringency curve" for traditional Jewish religious observance is sharply right-shifted. In English: most observant folks are on the rightward end of the spectrum. It used to be that the imprimatur of Rabbi T. Stern (the name on Hebrew National products until the recent change) was enough for many people who kept kosher. But as this right-shift began to take effect over the past few decades, a premium was placed on mass-market hechsherim. Loyalty to rabbis known personally in one's community ceded pride of place to brand loyalty, rigorous attention to the most stringent halachic detail, and a new industry of kosher supervision. One proof of this can be brought from the reasons I heard given for people refusing to eat Hebrew National when good old Rabbi Stern was its certifying rabbi -- the only evidence adduced was darkly whispered "leniencies," and rarely anything more specific than that.
All this means that for the duration of Rabbi Stern's Hebrew National hechsher there was a gap between national brand-name hechsherim and a smaller-scale, non-hegemonic definition of kashrut. It would have been perfect for the Conservative movement to take advantage of, an opportunity to explain the difference between Jewish law and tradition and standardized Orthodox stringency. National kashrut organizations encourage stringent observance - but that is not the only variety of kashrut. There is a community standard, independent of the kosher industry, which has not yet been completely coopted. Unforunately, while many Conservative Jews probably did eat Hebrew National, they weren't the sort that were likely to keep kashrut in general. Thus, while I approved theoretically of Rabbi Stern's hechsher, I never ate of it myself, since I never found a kosher-keeping community that approved of it.
With not a completely light heart, then, but with a curious palate, I'm going to buy myself some Hebrew National hot dogs next time I'm in the store, with the triangle-K brand of hechsher. For those of you who find these fine distinctions faintly ridiculous, consider them another reason to be vegetarian.
Postscript: The Kosher Blog has links to more information about the late Rabbi T. Stern, the lone certifier. (I got his name wrong, but I've corrected it above.) Also, it seems I missed the number-one reason why the right-shift rendered Stern's certification not kosher enough: it wasn't glatt kosher.
Enentation comments
1/29/04
Why the birds are getting the flu
In fact, the outbreak began as early as the first half of 2003, probably in China, health experts have told New Scientist. A combination of official cover-up and questionable farming practices allowed it to turn into the epidemic now under way.
In fact, the outbreak began as early as the first half of 2003, probably in China, health experts have told New Scientist. A combination of official cover-up and questionable farming practices allowed it to turn into the epidemic now under way.
The Passion done Crown Heights style
So I saw this play. (NB: I know Yankel Rosenbaum is not a Chasid. Blame The Man, or my editors. On second thought, don't blame my editors. They were very kind to the piece.)
What I wanted to say about Lenora Fulani is that she has called Jews "mass murderers." Either the Forward didn't want to be inflammatory, which I understand, or they don't consider the Anti-Defamation League a reliable source. Sez the ADL:
Despite its self-proclaimed multicultural vision and its avowed dedication to fighting racism and anti-Semitism, NAP has repeatedly bombarded its members with anti-Jewish and anti-Zionist rhetoric. Taking the podium in 1985 at NAP’s regional convention in Harlem, Newman announced his views on the behavior of Jews after the Holocaust:
"As a people we [Jews] responded to that genocide by selling our souls to the devil.... The contract with the Jewish people, with the Jewish leadership, has been: 'We’re going to let you live. We’re going to let you survive. We’re going to make sure it never happens to you again as long as you function as the stormtroopers of decadent capitalism against people of color the world over!….' Jewish people, my people, profoundly oppressed for thousands of years, capitulated — not all Jews, but the Jews as a people."
Newman’s "deal with the devil" theory appears to have achieved the status of NAP gospel in the years since that initial speech. Variations on the theme have cropped up on numerous occasions. In 1989, Lenora Fulani told the National Alliance that Jews "had to sell their souls to acquire Israel and are required to do the dirtiest work of capitalism—to function as mass murderers of people of color—in order to keep it."
So I saw this play. (NB: I know Yankel Rosenbaum is not a Chasid. Blame The Man, or my editors. On second thought, don't blame my editors. They were very kind to the piece.)
What I wanted to say about Lenora Fulani is that she has called Jews "mass murderers." Either the Forward didn't want to be inflammatory, which I understand, or they don't consider the Anti-Defamation League a reliable source. Sez the ADL:
Despite its self-proclaimed multicultural vision and its avowed dedication to fighting racism and anti-Semitism, NAP has repeatedly bombarded its members with anti-Jewish and anti-Zionist rhetoric. Taking the podium in 1985 at NAP’s regional convention in Harlem, Newman announced his views on the behavior of Jews after the Holocaust:
"As a people we [Jews] responded to that genocide by selling our souls to the devil.... The contract with the Jewish people, with the Jewish leadership, has been: 'We’re going to let you live. We’re going to let you survive. We’re going to make sure it never happens to you again as long as you function as the stormtroopers of decadent capitalism against people of color the world over!….' Jewish people, my people, profoundly oppressed for thousands of years, capitulated — not all Jews, but the Jews as a people."
Newman’s "deal with the devil" theory appears to have achieved the status of NAP gospel in the years since that initial speech. Variations on the theme have cropped up on numerous occasions. In 1989, Lenora Fulani told the National Alliance that Jews "had to sell their souls to acquire Israel and are required to do the dirtiest work of capitalism—to function as mass murderers of people of color—in order to keep it."
1/28/04
The Jew of New Haven
A friend of mine, Michael Wenthe, who's a graduate student at Yale (among other more exceptional and admirable qualities of his) has published a perceptive essay on Ben Katchor's graphic novel The Jew of New York. Katchor gave a talk a few years ago which included a deadpan reading of a list of names of small businesses and economic oddities of the sort that he favors in his regular comic, "Julius Knipl, Real Estate Photographer":
On a cold Wednesday evening in late January, Ben Katchor stood at a podium before a few dozen people in the Proshansky Auditorium of the City University of New York, and read aloud a few entries from a 1960 edition of the Chicago Yellow Pages. “Artificial Flowers and Plants,” he began, in a somewhat gravelly deadpan. “Ionian, Illinois Trading Corporation, Importers of Polyethylene: Completely Washable Flowers and Foliage; They Look Real, They Smell Real. Lee Schubert Floral Arrangements: Trees, Hedges, Any size, Any shape; Nature's Plant and Floral Beauty Reproduced; Free Estimates.
“Coin Changing Devices," he continued. "Meyer and Wenthe Incorporated: Official Money Changers; Multiple Tubes; Any Throw Arrangements; Slug Rejecters.”
That's right, Meyer and Wenthe Incorporated. As Mike said in an e-mail:
Well, I'm the man to explain that! I have a freakin' Meyer and Wenthe ruler in my art table! For I am a lineal descendant of Gustav A. J. Meyer and Herman Wenthe, proprietors of said store!
I feel strangely proud . . .
A friend of mine, Michael Wenthe, who's a graduate student at Yale (among other more exceptional and admirable qualities of his) has published a perceptive essay on Ben Katchor's graphic novel The Jew of New York. Katchor gave a talk a few years ago which included a deadpan reading of a list of names of small businesses and economic oddities of the sort that he favors in his regular comic, "Julius Knipl, Real Estate Photographer":
On a cold Wednesday evening in late January, Ben Katchor stood at a podium before a few dozen people in the Proshansky Auditorium of the City University of New York, and read aloud a few entries from a 1960 edition of the Chicago Yellow Pages. “Artificial Flowers and Plants,” he began, in a somewhat gravelly deadpan. “Ionian, Illinois Trading Corporation, Importers of Polyethylene: Completely Washable Flowers and Foliage; They Look Real, They Smell Real. Lee Schubert Floral Arrangements: Trees, Hedges, Any size, Any shape; Nature's Plant and Floral Beauty Reproduced; Free Estimates.
“Coin Changing Devices," he continued. "Meyer and Wenthe Incorporated: Official Money Changers; Multiple Tubes; Any Throw Arrangements; Slug Rejecters.”
That's right, Meyer and Wenthe Incorporated. As Mike said in an e-mail:
Well, I'm the man to explain that! I have a freakin' Meyer and Wenthe ruler in my art table! For I am a lineal descendant of Gustav A. J. Meyer and Herman Wenthe, proprietors of said store!
I feel strangely proud . . .
1/26/04
Post-Modernism Is Serial Killing
That's the title of the second installment of Arik Glasner's series in Haaretz justifying higher literature. (I called him Eric in my last post on his article. How many Israelis do you know with that name?) I had hoped that Glasner would rather more closely and cogently justify literature's contribution to the world. He doesn't quite do that, choosing instead (as you can tell from his title) to attack post-modernism; I suppose Israelis haven't gotten the Derrida is Dead memo yet. Still, Glasner writes well in a general way about what literature (and, in particular, novels of the realist school) can contribute:
What is customarily called post-modernism is serial killing. It's the heir to the full severity of concepts like the "death of God." Emphasizing the "destruction of hierarchy," it also announced the "death of the subject," the "death of the author," and even the "death of art." Nevertheless, wonder of wonders, people keep being born and wanting to express themselves in complicated ways which will enrich their life. Literature's heroic experiment is the attempt to give some sort of order, to provide meaning to the world. Even if this attempt is doomed to failure, the very writing of the history of this struggle, the struggle for meaning and narrative, is better than yielding to chaos.
That's the title of the second installment of Arik Glasner's series in Haaretz justifying higher literature. (I called him Eric in my last post on his article. How many Israelis do you know with that name?) I had hoped that Glasner would rather more closely and cogently justify literature's contribution to the world. He doesn't quite do that, choosing instead (as you can tell from his title) to attack post-modernism; I suppose Israelis haven't gotten the Derrida is Dead memo yet. Still, Glasner writes well in a general way about what literature (and, in particular, novels of the realist school) can contribute:
What is customarily called post-modernism is serial killing. It's the heir to the full severity of concepts like the "death of God." Emphasizing the "destruction of hierarchy," it also announced the "death of the subject," the "death of the author," and even the "death of art." Nevertheless, wonder of wonders, people keep being born and wanting to express themselves in complicated ways which will enrich their life. Literature's heroic experiment is the attempt to give some sort of order, to provide meaning to the world. Even if this attempt is doomed to failure, the very writing of the history of this struggle, the struggle for meaning and narrative, is better than yielding to chaos.
1/22/04
More birds and flu
Via ProMED-mail
Date: Thu 22 Jan 2004
Source: Bangkok Post online, Thu 22 Jan 2004 [edited]
Thailand: Three Suspected Human Cases of Avian Influenza in Three Provinces
Three Thais with pneumonia-like symptoms are being tested for avian
influenza, Public Health Minister Sudarat Keyuraphan said yesterday [Wed 21
Jan 2004]. Tests on blood and sputum samples were being run at the Medical
Sciences Department. Mrs Sudarat's admission follows rumours of confirmed
cases of avian influenza which were believed to have caused the drop in the
stock market index yesterday.
The government has repeatedly said Thailand is free of avian influenza
which has killed five people in Vietnam and devastated poultry populations
in several parts of Asia. Officials say thousands of local chickens are
dying of poultry cholera and respiratory disease, but some farmers accuse
the government of a cover-up.
The minister called an urgent meeting yesterday evening with senior
officials of the Disease Control Department, the Food and Drug
Administration and the Medical Sciences Department. She insisted that no
case of avian influenza [in birds], also known as fowl plague, had been
confirmed and that the country was still considered free of it. Results of
laboratory tests on the three suspected human cases, who had been
hospitalised, would be available in three days.
The three are a butcher from Nakhon Sawan, a child from Suphan Buri and a
farmer living in Kanchanaburi. The three provinces are reeling under
widespread chicken deaths which the authorities insist were not caused by
bird flu but fowl cholera and bronchitis. The Nakhon Sawan butcher has
suffered a high fever and lung infection since 7 Jan 2004, occurring after
the deaths of 70 chickens on his farm. He is in a private hospital in the
Central Region. The Suphan Buri patient was taken to a state hospital in
the province two weeks ago. The Kanchanaburi case was admitted to a public
hospital in Bangkok a few days ago.
The ministry initially listed 17 pneumonia patients who had come into
direct contact with chicken, either at farms or slaughterhouses, but 14
were excluded after tests confirmed their illness was caused by bacteria
and not a virus. Health authorities have expressed concern about the lack
of information from the Agriculture and Cooperatives Ministry and what they
see as its reluctant cooperation. The Public Health Ministry recently
launched its own monitoring system. "We don't know what has caused the
illness and death of chickens because that is the responsibility of the
Agriculture Ministry," Mrs Sudarat said. We are, however, concerned about
human health and have closely monitored the possible occurrence of bird flu
even though there was no earlier indications of it." She admitted that
farmers and butchers who came into direct contact with [infected] chickens
were at risk of being infected with bird flu. "We issued a list of initial
precautionary measures that need to be taken to the Agriculture Ministry
last week, but it seems the warning has not reached farmers," she said.
Poultry raisers were advised to wear gloves, shoes and masks every time
they come into direct contact with chickens, and to take a bath or shower
immediately afterwards. People should not fear catching the disease by
eating chicken because bird flu was not contracted this way, Mrs Sudarat said.
The Foreign Ministry would keep other countries informed about the
situation, spokesman Sihasak Phuangketkeow said. Singapore has already
banned live chicken imports from Thailand, Cambodia which has banned
imports of poultry from neighbouring countries, and Laos which has banned
all poultry from Thailand and Vietnam. China has banned chicken imports
from South Korea and Japan, where there is confirmed bird flu, but not from
Thailand.
(By Aphaluck Bhatiasevi and Achara Ashayagachat)
[ProMED-mail acknowledges receipt of a similar press report forwarded by
EVER which is enigmatically entitled "Thailand
has three official confirmed suspect case of human avian flu". Since all
cases of human infection by avian influenza A (H5N1) virus in Vietnam are
considered to have occurred by direct transmission from infected poultry,
rather than by human-to-human transmission, confirmation of the human cases
in Thailand would be indicative of the presence of avian influenza in
poultry in Thailand. - Mod.CP (ProMED-mail moderator)]
Via ProMED-mail
Date: Thu 22 Jan 2004
Source: Bangkok Post online, Thu 22 Jan 2004 [edited]
Thailand: Three Suspected Human Cases of Avian Influenza in Three Provinces
Three Thais with pneumonia-like symptoms are being tested for avian
influenza, Public Health Minister Sudarat Keyuraphan said yesterday [Wed 21
Jan 2004]. Tests on blood and sputum samples were being run at the Medical
Sciences Department. Mrs Sudarat's admission follows rumours of confirmed
cases of avian influenza which were believed to have caused the drop in the
stock market index yesterday.
The government has repeatedly said Thailand is free of avian influenza
which has killed five people in Vietnam and devastated poultry populations
in several parts of Asia. Officials say thousands of local chickens are
dying of poultry cholera and respiratory disease, but some farmers accuse
the government of a cover-up.
The minister called an urgent meeting yesterday evening with senior
officials of the Disease Control Department, the Food and Drug
Administration and the Medical Sciences Department. She insisted that no
case of avian influenza [in birds], also known as fowl plague, had been
confirmed and that the country was still considered free of it. Results of
laboratory tests on the three suspected human cases, who had been
hospitalised, would be available in three days.
The three are a butcher from Nakhon Sawan, a child from Suphan Buri and a
farmer living in Kanchanaburi. The three provinces are reeling under
widespread chicken deaths which the authorities insist were not caused by
bird flu but fowl cholera and bronchitis. The Nakhon Sawan butcher has
suffered a high fever and lung infection since 7 Jan 2004, occurring after
the deaths of 70 chickens on his farm. He is in a private hospital in the
Central Region. The Suphan Buri patient was taken to a state hospital in
the province two weeks ago. The Kanchanaburi case was admitted to a public
hospital in Bangkok a few days ago.
The ministry initially listed 17 pneumonia patients who had come into
direct contact with chicken, either at farms or slaughterhouses, but 14
were excluded after tests confirmed their illness was caused by bacteria
and not a virus. Health authorities have expressed concern about the lack
of information from the Agriculture and Cooperatives Ministry and what they
see as its reluctant cooperation. The Public Health Ministry recently
launched its own monitoring system. "We don't know what has caused the
illness and death of chickens because that is the responsibility of the
Agriculture Ministry," Mrs Sudarat said. We are, however, concerned about
human health and have closely monitored the possible occurrence of bird flu
even though there was no earlier indications of it." She admitted that
farmers and butchers who came into direct contact with [infected] chickens
were at risk of being infected with bird flu. "We issued a list of initial
precautionary measures that need to be taken to the Agriculture Ministry
last week, but it seems the warning has not reached farmers," she said.
Poultry raisers were advised to wear gloves, shoes and masks every time
they come into direct contact with chickens, and to take a bath or shower
immediately afterwards. People should not fear catching the disease by
eating chicken because bird flu was not contracted this way, Mrs Sudarat said.
The Foreign Ministry would keep other countries informed about the
situation, spokesman Sihasak Phuangketkeow said. Singapore has already
banned live chicken imports from Thailand, Cambodia which has banned
imports of poultry from neighbouring countries, and Laos which has banned
all poultry from Thailand and Vietnam. China has banned chicken imports
from South Korea and Japan, where there is confirmed bird flu, but not from
Thailand.
(By Aphaluck Bhatiasevi and Achara Ashayagachat)
[ProMED-mail acknowledges receipt of a similar press report forwarded by
EVER
has three official confirmed suspect case of human avian flu". Since all
cases of human infection by avian influenza A (H5N1) virus in Vietnam are
considered to have occurred by direct transmission from infected poultry,
rather than by human-to-human transmission, confirmation of the human cases
in Thailand would be indicative of the presence of avian influenza in
poultry in Thailand. - Mod.CP (ProMED-mail moderator)]
1/20/04
Revisionist poetry?
Who knew Jabotinsky translated poetry from the Italian into Hebrew? Actually, that wouldn't be so interesting in itself, except his translation is impressively good. (Via Antinous.)
Who knew Jabotinsky translated poetry from the Italian into Hebrew? Actually, that wouldn't be so interesting in itself, except his translation is impressively good. (Via Antinous.)
1/19/04
Why literature?
I don't have the answer. (For refunds, go around back, near the restroom with a lock on the door and the sign that says Beware of the Blog.) However, Eric Glasner, writing in this past week's Culture and Literature section of Haaretz, girds himself to take on the question in an article entitled "Why Do We Need Higher Literature? Because That's What Particular People Make." (It's in Hebrew, and unfortunately the English cult-and-lit section does not include a translation.)
His argument is somewhat scattered, and a full understanding (which I don't think I have) is dependent on an appreciation of the history of modern Israeli literature, and in particular the character, typical of a certain school of novel, of the talush or outsider. Glasner says that a number of new novels, written in the past few years, have returned to the talush from a new direction, as an escape route from the Scylla and Charybdis of contemporary Israeli society: overidealistic Zionism and fundamentalist Orthodoxy.
After some paragraphs about critics and criticism, Glasner finally asks the question of the title. He considers and rejects two other answers (belles lettres are enjoyable; they're better than best-sellers) before settling on the third. Higher literature is necessary because it's the product of a certain professional class, novelists and such, who are engaged in it: a craft from the pens of craftsmen.
Though I'm not doing justice to the argument -- after all, I'm not translating the article verbatim or in full -- I'm not exaggerating its weakness all that much. It's a Wittgensteinian view, one might say, just as religion (according to such a view) is defensible because it's connected to a certain world, particular and unique. But Glasner never really gets around to saying what the purpose of function of this literature-producing class might be.
The article is continued next week, but I have a hunch that my favorite answer, or attempt at an answer (since I haven't thought about this in any detail) won't be addressed: higher literature is a moral agent, and the success of its calling depends on the seriousness and boldness with which it addresses moral questions, no matter at what level or with what philosophical suppositions. As I said, this wouldn't be an answer, merely a start at an answer. It's what many lay readers in the U.S., and probably in Israel too, would give as a fumbling intuitive stab at an answer. However, it might be asking too much for an Israeli critic, even with all the cultural and religious riches at his disposal, to explicitly link literature and moral aspirations. Too many associations, too many demons might be called up.
I might be proven wrong by this coming week's continuation. I hope so.
I don't have the answer. (For refunds, go around back, near the restroom with a lock on the door and the sign that says Beware of the Blog.) However, Eric Glasner, writing in this past week's Culture and Literature section of Haaretz, girds himself to take on the question in an article entitled "Why Do We Need Higher Literature? Because That's What Particular People Make." (It's in Hebrew, and unfortunately the English cult-and-lit section does not include a translation.)
His argument is somewhat scattered, and a full understanding (which I don't think I have) is dependent on an appreciation of the history of modern Israeli literature, and in particular the character, typical of a certain school of novel, of the talush or outsider. Glasner says that a number of new novels, written in the past few years, have returned to the talush from a new direction, as an escape route from the Scylla and Charybdis of contemporary Israeli society: overidealistic Zionism and fundamentalist Orthodoxy.
After some paragraphs about critics and criticism, Glasner finally asks the question of the title. He considers and rejects two other answers (belles lettres are enjoyable; they're better than best-sellers) before settling on the third. Higher literature is necessary because it's the product of a certain professional class, novelists and such, who are engaged in it: a craft from the pens of craftsmen.
Though I'm not doing justice to the argument -- after all, I'm not translating the article verbatim or in full -- I'm not exaggerating its weakness all that much. It's a Wittgensteinian view, one might say, just as religion (according to such a view) is defensible because it's connected to a certain world, particular and unique. But Glasner never really gets around to saying what the purpose of function of this literature-producing class might be.
The article is continued next week, but I have a hunch that my favorite answer, or attempt at an answer (since I haven't thought about this in any detail) won't be addressed: higher literature is a moral agent, and the success of its calling depends on the seriousness and boldness with which it addresses moral questions, no matter at what level or with what philosophical suppositions. As I said, this wouldn't be an answer, merely a start at an answer. It's what many lay readers in the U.S., and probably in Israel too, would give as a fumbling intuitive stab at an answer. However, it might be asking too much for an Israeli critic, even with all the cultural and religious riches at his disposal, to explicitly link literature and moral aspirations. Too many associations, too many demons might be called up.
I might be proven wrong by this coming week's continuation. I hope so.
1/18/04
Blanca Berger Sollod!
Or, in Jewish: Beyle Nekhome bas Kale Khane!
Today, Sunday (24 Teves in the Jewish calendar), we gave her a name and had a party. She is named after two folks, olevasholem, worthy of esteem. Blanca (or Beyle) Seifter was a elderly Czech-Jewish woman who lived with her husband Dalek next to my wife Celeste while she was growing up in San Francisco. Celeste and the Seifters adopted each other: they were her surrogate grandparents, and since they had no children, she became their surrogate grandchild. It seems they had lived a hard life, and did not find the world a congenial place to bring new people into.
Celeste would flee to them when the burden of parental rule -- homework, for example, or being made to eat foods she didn't like -- became too much. The Seifters would ply her with pound cake, bananas, and tea, this last served in a little orange mug-and-saucer. The mug and saucer now have pride of place in our kitchen. We save used tea bags in it so that Blanca can go to college. (This is Celeste's theory of waste-not-want-not. You didn't hear it from me.)
My grandfather, Nathan (Nachum) Nemirow, was a hard worker of practical intelligence who made his living in different ways. Among other things, he was a navigator in a bomber during the Second World War (competing with other crews to see who could calculate the fastest), and owned a bar in Denver for some decades after the war. He liked a joke and a Scotch. He used to complain, "How can you be so good at school and so awful at chess?" It should be only days before Beylke will be able to beat my pants off.
As they say in Yiddish, I hope that they will be good intercessors for our child, and I hope she distinguishes their names as much as they did in their lifetimes.
You can skip the following if you don't need more details about the people in the photos. Incidentally, pictures of the party are thanks to my friend from Caltech, Andrew Grangaard. Thanks, Andrew! (Though NB: Berger Sollod is her last name.)
Pictures 1, 2, and 3: various views of the social hall downstairs at our shul. Picture 4: me 'n' her. (More pictures of her passim.) Picture 9: your host and his wife.
Thanks, readers, for indulging me. Hope to see you by her wedding canopy.
Enentation comments
Or, in Jewish: Beyle Nekhome bas Kale Khane!
Today, Sunday (24 Teves in the Jewish calendar), we gave her a name and had a party. She is named after two folks, olevasholem, worthy of esteem. Blanca (or Beyle) Seifter was a elderly Czech-Jewish woman who lived with her husband Dalek next to my wife Celeste while she was growing up in San Francisco. Celeste and the Seifters adopted each other: they were her surrogate grandparents, and since they had no children, she became their surrogate grandchild. It seems they had lived a hard life, and did not find the world a congenial place to bring new people into.
Celeste would flee to them when the burden of parental rule -- homework, for example, or being made to eat foods she didn't like -- became too much. The Seifters would ply her with pound cake, bananas, and tea, this last served in a little orange mug-and-saucer. The mug and saucer now have pride of place in our kitchen. We save used tea bags in it so that Blanca can go to college. (This is Celeste's theory of waste-not-want-not. You didn't hear it from me.)
My grandfather, Nathan (Nachum) Nemirow, was a hard worker of practical intelligence who made his living in different ways. Among other things, he was a navigator in a bomber during the Second World War (competing with other crews to see who could calculate the fastest), and owned a bar in Denver for some decades after the war. He liked a joke and a Scotch. He used to complain, "How can you be so good at school and so awful at chess?" It should be only days before Beylke will be able to beat my pants off.
As they say in Yiddish, I hope that they will be good intercessors for our child, and I hope she distinguishes their names as much as they did in their lifetimes.
You can skip the following if you don't need more details about the people in the photos. Incidentally, pictures of the party are thanks to my friend from Caltech, Andrew Grangaard. Thanks, Andrew! (Though NB: Berger Sollod is her last name.)
Pictures 1, 2, and 3: various views of the social hall downstairs at our shul. Picture 4: me 'n' her. (More pictures of her passim.) Picture 9: your host and his wife.
Thanks, readers, for indulging me. Hope to see you by her wedding canopy.
Enentation comments
1/15/04
Seder Shel Newborn
Kadesh: Kiddush over milk (or formula, bedieved) -- מלא לוגמיו. That is, until it dribbles down her chin.
Urkhatz: Wash the milk off her chin.
Karpas: What else is greenish (or yellowish) and sharp-smelling? די לחכּימא . . . (i.e. Verbum sap).
Yakhatz: Get the diaper apart. (Its tape is made to stick, not to separate.)
Magid: Tell her why she's crying. I.e., בכייה לדורות.
Rakhtzah: Wash her again. With a brachah, if you can figure out which one.
Motzi matzah: Find something to eat.
Maror: See Karpas, above.
Korekh: Diaper sandwich!
Shulkhan orekh: Hereby most strenuously resolve to finally outfit the changing table with the changing-table covers you bought at the nauseatingly overstocked baby department store. If only the table weren't used so often . . .
Tzafun: Where'd I put the last bit of her bottle?
Barekh: If she's not crying, and you've managed to eat, bentch as if you're being chased by something fast and fanged.
Hallel: "A happy mother of children"! Praised be, indeed.
Nirtzah: "The order of the seder is now finished." Until the second-night seder. And the third ...
Kadesh: Kiddush over milk (or formula, bedieved) -- מלא לוגמיו. That is, until it dribbles down her chin.
Urkhatz: Wash the milk off her chin.
Karpas: What else is greenish (or yellowish) and sharp-smelling? די לחכּימא . . . (i.e. Verbum sap).
Yakhatz: Get the diaper apart. (Its tape is made to stick, not to separate.)
Magid: Tell her why she's crying. I.e., בכייה לדורות.
Rakhtzah: Wash her again. With a brachah, if you can figure out which one.
Motzi matzah: Find something to eat.
Maror: See Karpas, above.
Korekh: Diaper sandwich!
Shulkhan orekh: Hereby most strenuously resolve to finally outfit the changing table with the changing-table covers you bought at the nauseatingly overstocked baby department store. If only the table weren't used so often . . .
Tzafun: Where'd I put the last bit of her bottle?
Barekh: If she's not crying, and you've managed to eat, bentch as if you're being chased by something fast and fanged.
Hallel: "A happy mother of children"! Praised be, indeed.
Nirtzah: "The order of the seder is now finished." Until the second-night seder. And the third ...
1/14/04
Birds and the flu
From: ProMED Digest V2004 #19
Source: World Health Organization (WHO), WER and Epidemiological Bulletin
online, Tue Jan 13 2004 [edited]
Viet Nam: avian influenza A(H5N1) in humans and poultry
--------------------------------------------------------
Laboratory results received on Sun 11 Jan 2004 have confirmed the presence
of avian influenza virus strain A(H5N1) in samples taken from humans. The
samples were taken from 2 children and one adult admitted to hospital with
a severe respiratory illness in Hanoi.
Since the end of October 2003, hospitals in Hanoi and surrounding provinces
have admitted 14 people with severe respiratory illness. The cases are 13
children and one adult, the mother of a deceased child. To date, 11 of the
children and the adult have died. It is not known whether all of these
cases were caused by the same pathogen.
At present, there is no evidence that human-to-human transmission has
occurred. No reports indicate that health care workers have been infected.
The presence of avian influenza A(H5N1) in samples from 3 of these cases
was confirmed by Hong Kong's National Influenza Center, which is a member
of the WHO Global Influenza Surveillance Network. Samples have also been
sent for analysis to Japan's National Institute for Infectious Diseases,
another member of the WHO influenza network. Results are awaited shortly.
WHO is providing support to Vietnamese health authorities in their
investigation of the cases and in the prevention of further spread to humans.
Avian influenza strains normally infect birds only. The first cases of
human infection with avian influenza A(H5N1) were identified in 1997 in
Hong Kong. The virus infected 18 people and caused 6 deaths. Genetic
studies subsequently linked the outbreak in humans to an outbreak of highly
pathogenic avian influenza in poultry. The immediate culling of around 1.5
million poultry in Hong Kong is thought to have averted a larger outbreak
in humans.
Other recent outbreaks of avian influenza in humans have caused limited
disease. An outbreak of H5N1 in Hong Kong in February 2003 caused 2 cases
and 1 death. An outbreak of H7N7 avian influenza in the Netherlands caused
the death of one veterinarian in April 2003, and mild illness in 83 humans.
Mild cases of avian influenza A(H9N2) in children occurred in Hong Kong in
1999 (2 cases) and in mid-December 2003 (one case).
Highly pathogenic avian influenza in poultry
- --------------------------------------------
Last week, avian influenza virus A(H5N1) was identified as the cause of an
outbreak of highly pathogenic avian influenza in two southern provinces of
Viet Nam. To date, the virus, which spreads rapidly and has a mortality in
chickens approaching 100 per cent, has resulted in the deaths of 40 000
chickens and the culling of 30 000 more.
The relationship between the human and poultry outbreaks of avian influenza
A(H5N1) in Viet Nam is not fully understood at present. WHO and Viet Nam's
Ministry of Health are undertaking investigations to determine the source
of the human cases and whether human-to-human transmission has occurred.
The situation is also being followed closely by the country's Ministry of
Agriculture and Rural Development.
An outbreak of avian influenza A(H5N1) occurred in South Korea in December
2003. On Monday, Japanese authorities announced the death of 6000 chickens
at a single farm as due to infection with the same strain of the virus.
These outbreaks mark the first cases of avian influenza in South Korea, and
the first cases in Japan since 1925. No human cases of infection with the
avian influenza virus have been reported in either of these outbreaks.
WHO regards every case of transmission of an avian influenza virus to
humans as a cause for heightened vigilance and surveillance. The
circulation of highly pathogenic avian influenza viruses in large numbers
of poultry in a growing number of countries is of particular concern.
Influenza viruses are highly unstable. The co-circulation of highly
pathogenic animal viruses with human viruses could create opportunities for
different species-specific viruses to exchange genetic material, giving
rise to a new influenza virus to which humans would have little, if any,
protective immunity.
[A ProMED-mail correspondent in Japan has forwarded the information that
Japanese media are reporting today that the Japanese Ministry of
Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries has announced that the highly
pathogenic avian influenza virus responsible for the current outbreak in
Japan has been typed as avian influenza A (H5N1)virus. The recent spread of
avian influenza A (H5N1) virus through east Asia is an increasing cause for
concern, as are the isolated instances of transmission to humans. This may
reflects the expansion of poultry farming and greater opportunities for
contact between humans and domestic poultry. Although the present situation
is fairly stable, it may only be a matter of time before a reassortant
virus or mutant virus capable of human-to-human transmission evolves. -
(ProMED-mail moderators)]
From: ProMED Digest V2004 #19
Source: World Health Organization (WHO), WER and Epidemiological Bulletin
online, Tue Jan 13 2004 [edited]
Viet Nam: avian influenza A(H5N1) in humans and poultry
--------------------------------------------------------
Laboratory results received on Sun 11 Jan 2004 have confirmed the presence
of avian influenza virus strain A(H5N1) in samples taken from humans. The
samples were taken from 2 children and one adult admitted to hospital with
a severe respiratory illness in Hanoi.
Since the end of October 2003, hospitals in Hanoi and surrounding provinces
have admitted 14 people with severe respiratory illness. The cases are 13
children and one adult, the mother of a deceased child. To date, 11 of the
children and the adult have died. It is not known whether all of these
cases were caused by the same pathogen.
At present, there is no evidence that human-to-human transmission has
occurred. No reports indicate that health care workers have been infected.
The presence of avian influenza A(H5N1) in samples from 3 of these cases
was confirmed by Hong Kong's National Influenza Center, which is a member
of the WHO Global Influenza Surveillance Network. Samples have also been
sent for analysis to Japan's National Institute for Infectious Diseases,
another member of the WHO influenza network. Results are awaited shortly.
WHO is providing support to Vietnamese health authorities in their
investigation of the cases and in the prevention of further spread to humans.
Avian influenza strains normally infect birds only. The first cases of
human infection with avian influenza A(H5N1) were identified in 1997 in
Hong Kong. The virus infected 18 people and caused 6 deaths. Genetic
studies subsequently linked the outbreak in humans to an outbreak of highly
pathogenic avian influenza in poultry. The immediate culling of around 1.5
million poultry in Hong Kong is thought to have averted a larger outbreak
in humans.
Other recent outbreaks of avian influenza in humans have caused limited
disease. An outbreak of H5N1 in Hong Kong in February 2003 caused 2 cases
and 1 death. An outbreak of H7N7 avian influenza in the Netherlands caused
the death of one veterinarian in April 2003, and mild illness in 83 humans.
Mild cases of avian influenza A(H9N2) in children occurred in Hong Kong in
1999 (2 cases) and in mid-December 2003 (one case).
Highly pathogenic avian influenza in poultry
- --------------------------------------------
Last week, avian influenza virus A(H5N1) was identified as the cause of an
outbreak of highly pathogenic avian influenza in two southern provinces of
Viet Nam. To date, the virus, which spreads rapidly and has a mortality in
chickens approaching 100 per cent, has resulted in the deaths of 40 000
chickens and the culling of 30 000 more.
The relationship between the human and poultry outbreaks of avian influenza
A(H5N1) in Viet Nam is not fully understood at present. WHO and Viet Nam's
Ministry of Health are undertaking investigations to determine the source
of the human cases and whether human-to-human transmission has occurred.
The situation is also being followed closely by the country's Ministry of
Agriculture and Rural Development.
An outbreak of avian influenza A(H5N1) occurred in South Korea in December
2003. On Monday, Japanese authorities announced the death of 6000 chickens
at a single farm as due to infection with the same strain of the virus.
These outbreaks mark the first cases of avian influenza in South Korea, and
the first cases in Japan since 1925. No human cases of infection with the
avian influenza virus have been reported in either of these outbreaks.
WHO regards every case of transmission of an avian influenza virus to
humans as a cause for heightened vigilance and surveillance. The
circulation of highly pathogenic avian influenza viruses in large numbers
of poultry in a growing number of countries is of particular concern.
Influenza viruses are highly unstable. The co-circulation of highly
pathogenic animal viruses with human viruses could create opportunities for
different species-specific viruses to exchange genetic material, giving
rise to a new influenza virus to which humans would have little, if any,
protective immunity.
[A ProMED-mail correspondent in Japan has forwarded the information that
Japanese media are reporting today that the Japanese Ministry of
Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries has announced that the highly
pathogenic avian influenza virus responsible for the current outbreak in
Japan has been typed as avian influenza A (H5N1)virus. The recent spread of
avian influenza A (H5N1) virus through east Asia is an increasing cause for
concern, as are the isolated instances of transmission to humans. This may
reflects the expansion of poultry farming and greater opportunities for
contact between humans and domestic poultry. Although the present situation
is fairly stable, it may only be a matter of time before a reassortant
virus or mutant virus capable of human-to-human transmission evolves. -
(ProMED-mail moderators)]
1/12/04
Two poems
from Lila Zemborain's book Usted (Buenos Aires, Ediciones Ultimo Reino, 1998)
(translation by your host from the Spanish)
One thousandth
From one thousandth of his tangible body
escaped a drop with millions
of particles that could have been not me
And one of these was me
And one of these am I
* * *
Oh splendid night
1.
Oh splendid night
who loved even the last fragment of his body
given over to life's deliriums
How many nights we stopped
in the light of your shadow to gaze
ecstatic at satellites
Oh night I gaze at you and gaze at you
with the sunstruck hope of meeting him
in some trace of my intermittent sleep
2.
Oh night!
Empty the light of your concrete words
You evolve into afternoon like a sure blemish
You were there, it was daytime
but you were there
in the tremor of my writing
You were there while
the breaches of unloosed sleep
opened in my body
On that infinite night I wrote this poem
with voice in memory
and dreams in your grasp
It was a voice that talked of night and stars
and of his splendid death
It was a voice that talked of his
splendid death
And I understood
something unsaid
It was talk of moon
and of a fluid splendor
3.
We walked hand-in-hand on that moonlit afternoon
and looked together at the sea
We looked together at the sea
Oh splendid father
from Lila Zemborain's book Usted (Buenos Aires, Ediciones Ultimo Reino, 1998)
(translation by your host from the Spanish)
One thousandth
From one thousandth of his tangible body
escaped a drop with millions
of particles that could have been not me
And one of these was me
And one of these am I
* * *
Oh splendid night
1.
Oh splendid night
who loved even the last fragment of his body
given over to life's deliriums
How many nights we stopped
in the light of your shadow to gaze
ecstatic at satellites
Oh night I gaze at you and gaze at you
with the sunstruck hope of meeting him
in some trace of my intermittent sleep
2.
Oh night!
Empty the light of your concrete words
You evolve into afternoon like a sure blemish
You were there, it was daytime
but you were there
in the tremor of my writing
You were there while
the breaches of unloosed sleep
opened in my body
On that infinite night I wrote this poem
with voice in memory
and dreams in your grasp
It was a voice that talked of night and stars
and of his splendid death
It was a voice that talked of his
splendid death
And I understood
something unsaid
It was talk of moon
and of a fluid splendor
3.
We walked hand-in-hand on that moonlit afternoon
and looked together at the sea
We looked together at the sea
Oh splendid father
The Gretsch Building done brisk 'n' breezy
For an entertaining and irreverent, yet balanced look at the hipsters-Hasidim hulabaloo in Brooklyn, take a look at this new article in New York Magazine by your host and Steven I. Weiss. Any light and airy qualities, mind you, are due more to editing (and I.'s contributions) than to my own writing. Myself, I prefer thousands of words of exhaustive pedantry. (It seems that the more prestigious and widely-read the publication, the fewer words one is allowed to squeeze in.)
For an entertaining and irreverent, yet balanced look at the hipsters-Hasidim hulabaloo in Brooklyn, take a look at this new article in New York Magazine by your host and Steven I. Weiss. Any light and airy qualities, mind you, are due more to editing (and I.'s contributions) than to my own writing. Myself, I prefer thousands of words of exhaustive pedantry. (It seems that the more prestigious and widely-read the publication, the fewer words one is allowed to squeeze in.)
1/9/04
A joyful aside
As I write this post, my daughter's lying in a nursery on the 13th floor of a local hospital. She's nearly twelve hours old.
My wife is sleeping soundly down the hall from her.
As for me, I feel a sudden sharp desire to change diapers.
Enentation comments
As I write this post, my daughter's lying in a nursery on the 13th floor of a local hospital. She's nearly twelve hours old.
My wife is sleeping soundly down the hall from her.
As for me, I feel a sudden sharp desire to change diapers.
Enentation comments
1/7/04
The “Artists” and the Chasidim:
The reasons behind a culture war in Williamsburg
[A translation of my article in Forverts from a few weeks ago.]
How many Satmar Chasidim live in the U.S.? Their number is variously estimated between fifty and one hundred thousand – but everyone knows that a significant proportion live in Williamsburg, known by some as “Jerusalem of America.” Where do these thousands of Jews hang their shtreimels, and how can there be enough room in Williamsburg for all of them?
When the Satmar Chasidim, then not yet a mass movement, moved into Williamsburg in the 1950s and 60s, the economic decline of Brooklyn had just begun to gather speed. The reasons are many, but the story began with the construction of the BQE in 1954, an expressway which lowered property values across the area, particularly in Williamsburg. A three-fold crisis – economic collapse, drug use, and crime – embraced the region, and both business and middle-class apartment dwellers took flight.
This exodus was a favorable development for several ethnic groups, which took advantage of the depressed property values and began to move in en masse. But a sort of social paradox here came into play: although City Hall, in an attempt at urban renewal, had knocked down a number of dilapidated apartment buildings in the 1950s and 1960s – the plan was to build new ones – the number of new apartment houses was not enough to fill the needs of new arrivals. So it was that the residents of Williamsburg were forced to compete over a limited number of apartments.
From the 1950s until the mid-1970s, the Democratic political machine gave the upper hand to the Chasidim over Hispanic residents. That period also saw the development and maintenance in the Satmar community of a high level of political discipline, which voted en bloc according to directions from their rebbe. But when the Hispanics began to organize politically, and the Voting Rights Acts forbade excluding voters on the basis of English proficiency or education, the balance began to shift. The Chasidim and the Hispanics were at something approaching political equilibrium.
During the 1970s and 1980s, the Chasidim and the Hispanic community were the political bosses of Williamsburg, and their frequent conflicts spilled over more than once onto the front pages of New York newspapers. The groups clashed over a matter of life and death (or at least real estate): where can you live, and how can you get the government to sponsor housing projects that are appropriate for your group (and not, God forbid, the other guy)?
The 1980s: the beginning of the end?
Several factors in this period noticeably worsened the real-estate situation for Williamsburg Chasidim. First, in 1979, came the demise of the then-Satmar rebbe, Rabbi Yoel Teitelbaum. Though his nephew took over the leadership of the community, the grandchildren (Aharon and Zalman Leib) began quarreling some years after, driving a suspenseful soap opera that’s going on even now in Kiryas Yoel, Jerusalem, and Williamsburg. That Satmar split, together with the growth of other Williamsburg Chasidic groups (for example, Belz and Klausenberg), weakened the control of Satmar.
Secondly, “pioneering” bohemians, refugees from overpriced Manhattan real estate, began to move into Brooklyn. And third – perhaps itself caused by the bohemians’ “first wave” – came the legalization, in 1985, of loft rentals in Williamsburg. It may be that future historians of Chasidic Williamsburg will record that change as the beginning of the end of the community in its ultra-Orthodox incarnation.
The newest Williamsburg Kulturkampf: The War of the Artists
Those bohemians who began moving into Williamsburg in the mid-80s have one name in the Chasidim’s Yiddish. They’re called “artists,” and many Chasidim (who wish to remain anonymous) are suspicious of their ways. The “artists,” on the other hand, pay the Chasidim the same compliment. Any Web surfer literate either in Yiddish or the ways of Williamsburg hipsterdom can quite easily find Web sites, where young hipsters insult their Chasidic landlords, or Chasidim drop juicy hints about the undomestic habits of the artists.
Who are these “artists”? The group includes two types of people: first, actual practitioners of the visual or performing arts, real artists who’ve moved into Williamsburg to take advantage of the gallery, exhibit, and fellow-artist scene: all for prices that would be impossible in Manhattan. Artists, of course, want to be with other artists, and New York (and its various far-flung neighborhoods) is famous as a city which makes such communities possible and affordable. But the category “artists,” as understood by the Chasidim, also includes plain ol’ hipsters, young folk drawn to Williamsburg by a free-and-easy and entertaining way of life, full of clubs, bars, and all sorts of partying.
The current controversy centers precisely on this contrast between this youth culture and the culture of the Chasidim. In the past few weeks, small, independent (one could even say “marginal”) groups of Chasidim have mounted several demonstrations against the “artists,” or, to be more exact, against the owners of the apartment houses that are renting out to the outside hipsters. When one asks Chasidim why they do not approve of the “artists,” the responses are various: some say, that they are just “too different” – for example, they don’t have curtains on the windows, they have outlandish art on the walls, they walk dogs on the streets. Some say, on the other hand, that they’re “generally honest people” (“not like the criminal element” of other ethnic groups), but they’re taking over potential living spaces of Chasidim. They’re replacing Chasidic Williamsburg with theirs – a hipster-bohemian variety.
The demonstrations, and the future
It’s hard to get representative responses from the “artists” themselves, because they’re a variegated community. It’s quite plausible that they want the same thing that every New Yorker wants: cheap, attractive apartments that are fitted to their way of living. The problem is just that their lifestyle is quite different from that of the Chasidim – and that the owners of apartment buildings earn quite a bit more money by renting lofts to multiple occupants then they do by renting entire apartments to large families.
The demonstrators (who are actually small, non-official groups, “two or three people with a fax machine,” as one highly-placed Chasidic source put it) chose as their main target the Gretsch Building, the only one of the major Williamsburg apartment buildings whose owner is a non-Chasidic Orthodox Jew. It seems that the protests have indeed accomplished some of their mission: they prevailed upon the owners to assure that only “normal” businesses (i.e. no bars or clubs) occupy the lower floor, that no terraces be built, and that no swimming pools be visible from other buildings. But protesters have also attempted to influence other owners, non-Jews or non-religious Jews, who are likely to be less impressed by scrawled signs in imperfect English.
In certain Chasidic chat rooms people are waxing nostalgic about the “good old days” of Chasidic Williamsburg. Perhaps the invasion of the artists is only the first wave of the new population which will drive out the Chasidim, leaving them to wander in the desert until they find a new home.
The reasons behind a culture war in Williamsburg
[A translation of my article in Forverts from a few weeks ago.]
How many Satmar Chasidim live in the U.S.? Their number is variously estimated between fifty and one hundred thousand – but everyone knows that a significant proportion live in Williamsburg, known by some as “Jerusalem of America.” Where do these thousands of Jews hang their shtreimels, and how can there be enough room in Williamsburg for all of them?
When the Satmar Chasidim, then not yet a mass movement, moved into Williamsburg in the 1950s and 60s, the economic decline of Brooklyn had just begun to gather speed. The reasons are many, but the story began with the construction of the BQE in 1954, an expressway which lowered property values across the area, particularly in Williamsburg. A three-fold crisis – economic collapse, drug use, and crime – embraced the region, and both business and middle-class apartment dwellers took flight.
This exodus was a favorable development for several ethnic groups, which took advantage of the depressed property values and began to move in en masse. But a sort of social paradox here came into play: although City Hall, in an attempt at urban renewal, had knocked down a number of dilapidated apartment buildings in the 1950s and 1960s – the plan was to build new ones – the number of new apartment houses was not enough to fill the needs of new arrivals. So it was that the residents of Williamsburg were forced to compete over a limited number of apartments.
From the 1950s until the mid-1970s, the Democratic political machine gave the upper hand to the Chasidim over Hispanic residents. That period also saw the development and maintenance in the Satmar community of a high level of political discipline, which voted en bloc according to directions from their rebbe. But when the Hispanics began to organize politically, and the Voting Rights Acts forbade excluding voters on the basis of English proficiency or education, the balance began to shift. The Chasidim and the Hispanics were at something approaching political equilibrium.
During the 1970s and 1980s, the Chasidim and the Hispanic community were the political bosses of Williamsburg, and their frequent conflicts spilled over more than once onto the front pages of New York newspapers. The groups clashed over a matter of life and death (or at least real estate): where can you live, and how can you get the government to sponsor housing projects that are appropriate for your group (and not, God forbid, the other guy)?
The 1980s: the beginning of the end?
Several factors in this period noticeably worsened the real-estate situation for Williamsburg Chasidim. First, in 1979, came the demise of the then-Satmar rebbe, Rabbi Yoel Teitelbaum. Though his nephew took over the leadership of the community, the grandchildren (Aharon and Zalman Leib) began quarreling some years after, driving a suspenseful soap opera that’s going on even now in Kiryas Yoel, Jerusalem, and Williamsburg. That Satmar split, together with the growth of other Williamsburg Chasidic groups (for example, Belz and Klausenberg), weakened the control of Satmar.
Secondly, “pioneering” bohemians, refugees from overpriced Manhattan real estate, began to move into Brooklyn. And third – perhaps itself caused by the bohemians’ “first wave” – came the legalization, in 1985, of loft rentals in Williamsburg. It may be that future historians of Chasidic Williamsburg will record that change as the beginning of the end of the community in its ultra-Orthodox incarnation.
The newest Williamsburg Kulturkampf: The War of the Artists
Those bohemians who began moving into Williamsburg in the mid-80s have one name in the Chasidim’s Yiddish. They’re called “artists,” and many Chasidim (who wish to remain anonymous) are suspicious of their ways. The “artists,” on the other hand, pay the Chasidim the same compliment. Any Web surfer literate either in Yiddish or the ways of Williamsburg hipsterdom can quite easily find Web sites, where young hipsters insult their Chasidic landlords, or Chasidim drop juicy hints about the undomestic habits of the artists.
Who are these “artists”? The group includes two types of people: first, actual practitioners of the visual or performing arts, real artists who’ve moved into Williamsburg to take advantage of the gallery, exhibit, and fellow-artist scene: all for prices that would be impossible in Manhattan. Artists, of course, want to be with other artists, and New York (and its various far-flung neighborhoods) is famous as a city which makes such communities possible and affordable. But the category “artists,” as understood by the Chasidim, also includes plain ol’ hipsters, young folk drawn to Williamsburg by a free-and-easy and entertaining way of life, full of clubs, bars, and all sorts of partying.
The current controversy centers precisely on this contrast between this youth culture and the culture of the Chasidim. In the past few weeks, small, independent (one could even say “marginal”) groups of Chasidim have mounted several demonstrations against the “artists,” or, to be more exact, against the owners of the apartment houses that are renting out to the outside hipsters. When one asks Chasidim why they do not approve of the “artists,” the responses are various: some say, that they are just “too different” – for example, they don’t have curtains on the windows, they have outlandish art on the walls, they walk dogs on the streets. Some say, on the other hand, that they’re “generally honest people” (“not like the criminal element” of other ethnic groups), but they’re taking over potential living spaces of Chasidim. They’re replacing Chasidic Williamsburg with theirs – a hipster-bohemian variety.
The demonstrations, and the future
It’s hard to get representative responses from the “artists” themselves, because they’re a variegated community. It’s quite plausible that they want the same thing that every New Yorker wants: cheap, attractive apartments that are fitted to their way of living. The problem is just that their lifestyle is quite different from that of the Chasidim – and that the owners of apartment buildings earn quite a bit more money by renting lofts to multiple occupants then they do by renting entire apartments to large families.
The demonstrators (who are actually small, non-official groups, “two or three people with a fax machine,” as one highly-placed Chasidic source put it) chose as their main target the Gretsch Building, the only one of the major Williamsburg apartment buildings whose owner is a non-Chasidic Orthodox Jew. It seems that the protests have indeed accomplished some of their mission: they prevailed upon the owners to assure that only “normal” businesses (i.e. no bars or clubs) occupy the lower floor, that no terraces be built, and that no swimming pools be visible from other buildings. But protesters have also attempted to influence other owners, non-Jews or non-religious Jews, who are likely to be less impressed by scrawled signs in imperfect English.
In certain Chasidic chat rooms people are waxing nostalgic about the “good old days” of Chasidic Williamsburg. Perhaps the invasion of the artists is only the first wave of the new population which will drive out the Chasidim, leaving them to wander in the desert until they find a new home.
1/6/04
Getting rid of polio
In the current issue of The New Yorker, Atul Gawande has an enlightening, compassionate article chock-full of local color called "The Mop-Up." It's about the World Health Organization's campaign to eradicate polio through en-masse vaccinations. (Unfortunately, it's not available on-line.)
Near the end of the article, Gawande voices some qualms about the project. It's a massive endeavor, after all -- couldn't the billions of dollars spent be put to better use in strengthening basic health care in the countries, such as India, where polio is still common? His conclusion involves a certain amount of hand-waving: eradicating polio is the Great Wall or pyramid of our age, a testament to our collective enterprise.
This last argument can be easily disposed of. If eradicating polio would be a Triumph of the Human Spirit, so then would any number of other significant health-care goals that might be achieved through appropriate initiatives: increasing life expectancy by five years for men and women of all races by the year 2025. Or reducing by a half the number of smokers. There is nothing unique about polio, by this aeshetic argument, which would put it at the top of the heap.
On the other hand, Gawande's cost-benefit concerns are quite relevant. Making them somewhat more specific than their formulation in the article is more difficult than it might appear, since they involve the complications associated with any such calculations. Which costs are counted? Which benefits? Over what time scale?
I found this article by K.J. Bart et al. of the Department of Health and Human Services, published in the Bulletin of the World Health Organization. For those disinclined to read the whole thing, here's the abstract:
A benefit-cost analysis of the Poliomyelitis Eradication Initiative was undertaken to facilitate national and international decision-making with regard to financial support. The base case examined the net costs and benefits during the period 1986-2040; the model assumed differential costs for oral poliovirus vaccine (OPV) and vaccine delivery in industrialized and developing countries, and ignored all benefits aside from reductions in direct costs for treatment and rehabilitation. The model showed that the "break-even" point at which benefits exceeded costs was the year 2007, with a saving of US$ 13 600 million by the year 2040. Sensitivity analyses revealed only small differences in the break-even point and in the dollars saved, when compared with the base case, even with large variations in the target age group for vaccination, the proportion of case-patients seeking medical attention, and the cost of vaccine delivery. The technical feasibility of global eradication is supported by the availability of an easily administered, inexpensive vaccine (OPV), the epidemiological characteristics of poliomyelitis, and the successful experience in the Americas with elimination of wild poliovirus infection. This model demonstrates that the Poliomyelitis Eradication Initiative is economically justified.
Economically justified, that is, in the context of this paper's assumptions. There's nothing wrong with such assumptions, of course -- every piece of research is based on certain definitions and restrictions -- but it's nice to know where we stand before we agree with the conclusion of the abstract.
The big question mark in the study is this: while the benefits of eradicating polio are underestimated, so are the costs. Each "cost-dollar" is counted equally whether it is spent for polio eradication or for something else. But that begs the question. Is money more wisely invested in basic health-care than in large-scale eradication projects? I would like to see studies that compare, say, the results of a billion dollars of world-wide basic health expenditures with the benefits of a billion-dollar disease-eradication program.
The polio eradication project is a large and noble one, but I don't think that we know enough yet about its costs and benefits to be confident about further such endeavors.
In the current issue of The New Yorker, Atul Gawande has an enlightening, compassionate article chock-full of local color called "The Mop-Up." It's about the World Health Organization's campaign to eradicate polio through en-masse vaccinations. (Unfortunately, it's not available on-line.)
Near the end of the article, Gawande voices some qualms about the project. It's a massive endeavor, after all -- couldn't the billions of dollars spent be put to better use in strengthening basic health care in the countries, such as India, where polio is still common? His conclusion involves a certain amount of hand-waving: eradicating polio is the Great Wall or pyramid of our age, a testament to our collective enterprise.
This last argument can be easily disposed of. If eradicating polio would be a Triumph of the Human Spirit, so then would any number of other significant health-care goals that might be achieved through appropriate initiatives: increasing life expectancy by five years for men and women of all races by the year 2025. Or reducing by a half the number of smokers. There is nothing unique about polio, by this aeshetic argument, which would put it at the top of the heap.
On the other hand, Gawande's cost-benefit concerns are quite relevant. Making them somewhat more specific than their formulation in the article is more difficult than it might appear, since they involve the complications associated with any such calculations. Which costs are counted? Which benefits? Over what time scale?
I found this article by K.J. Bart et al. of the Department of Health and Human Services, published in the Bulletin of the World Health Organization. For those disinclined to read the whole thing, here's the abstract:
A benefit-cost analysis of the Poliomyelitis Eradication Initiative was undertaken to facilitate national and international decision-making with regard to financial support. The base case examined the net costs and benefits during the period 1986-2040; the model assumed differential costs for oral poliovirus vaccine (OPV) and vaccine delivery in industrialized and developing countries, and ignored all benefits aside from reductions in direct costs for treatment and rehabilitation. The model showed that the "break-even" point at which benefits exceeded costs was the year 2007, with a saving of US$ 13 600 million by the year 2040. Sensitivity analyses revealed only small differences in the break-even point and in the dollars saved, when compared with the base case, even with large variations in the target age group for vaccination, the proportion of case-patients seeking medical attention, and the cost of vaccine delivery. The technical feasibility of global eradication is supported by the availability of an easily administered, inexpensive vaccine (OPV), the epidemiological characteristics of poliomyelitis, and the successful experience in the Americas with elimination of wild poliovirus infection. This model demonstrates that the Poliomyelitis Eradication Initiative is economically justified.
Economically justified, that is, in the context of this paper's assumptions. There's nothing wrong with such assumptions, of course -- every piece of research is based on certain definitions and restrictions -- but it's nice to know where we stand before we agree with the conclusion of the abstract.
The big question mark in the study is this: while the benefits of eradicating polio are underestimated, so are the costs. Each "cost-dollar" is counted equally whether it is spent for polio eradication or for something else. But that begs the question. Is money more wisely invested in basic health-care than in large-scale eradication projects? I would like to see studies that compare, say, the results of a billion dollars of world-wide basic health expenditures with the benefits of a billion-dollar disease-eradication program.
The polio eradication project is a large and noble one, but I don't think that we know enough yet about its costs and benefits to be confident about further such endeavors.
Reddish-white nights
Here's a poem about St. Petersburg, Russia. I translated it from the Yiddish.
A White Night
Yisroel Nekrasov
Red evening drags quietly
till the dawn.
The milk, sticky, whitish,
drips on.
After the last streetcar,
The city frozen,
Maybe one can restart
What was gone.
No: again it's far
away, a space unfilled.
A girl stops a car
for a hundred-ruble bill.
Here's a poem about St. Petersburg, Russia. I translated it from the Yiddish.
A White Night
Yisroel Nekrasov
Red evening drags quietly
till the dawn.
The milk, sticky, whitish,
drips on.
After the last streetcar,
The city frozen,
Maybe one can restart
What was gone.
No: again it's far
away, a space unfilled.
A girl stops a car
for a hundred-ruble bill.
Why don't you live with your own kind?
What follows is inspired by a post of Naomi Chana's.
On Sunday I attended a Chasidic protest in Williamsburg as research for a story that Steven I. Weiss (of Protocols) and I are working on. More on that later. From a sociological and psychological point of view, though, the visit provided yet another opportunity to marvel at how one can have a great deal in common with a group yet feel completely out of place among them.
No, this is not going to be an omphalocentric meditation on Identity, the Mystery that is Me. But I am going to talk about one of my preoccupations: the creation of an ideology that takes advantage of contradictory ideas without being beholden to the entirety of their sources.
Let me be more specific. I would like more Jews to appreciate the Yiddish language, and I would like to help strengthen and expand our almost nonexistent (but what an "almost"!) community of secular-minded Yiddish speakers. "Secular" is meant not as an exclusion of religion (I am observant myself), but as a denial of fundamentalism.
Since I am a Yiddishist, I am fascinated by the particular brand of the language characteristic of American Chasidim, both in its colloquial and literary registers. As Joshua Fishman has pointed out time and again in his articles in the Yiddish Forward and elsewhere, secular Yiddishists have one large thing to learn from the Chasidim: that speaking a language in the home-family-neighborhood nexus, not theater, newspapers, or literature, is what makes a spoken language intergenerationally transmissible.
So why don't I move to Borough Park or Williamsburg, where spoken Yiddish is a lot more secure than in downtown Manhattan? An acquaintance of mine, an intelligent ultra-Orthodox woman, asked me more or less this question after a talk I gave a few months ago at a conference in Baltimore of the International Association of Yiddish Clubs. In response, I said, "I'm not a Chasid. I am not against Chasidim; I appreciate their use of Yiddish. But my religious observance and philosophical approach to Judaism is quite different, and I think it worth my while to try and build a liberally Jewish, philosophically cogent, Yiddish-speaking community where I live."
In other words, I am devoting time and frustration to a near-impossible contradiction in terms. I am a traditional Jew in an egalitarian Conservative congregation speaking Yiddish with my family. Such traditional Judaism, in my personal context, raises another contradiction. I am observant of the Sabbath and holidays and kashrut, and I study Torah regularly, albeit with a critical eye. Regular readers of this blog already know that I frequently despair about the Conservative movement's many flaws. Why then -- some of you might ask -- do you not flee to the Orthodox movement, or even take advantage of the Reform movement's increasing observance?
Such questions could be asked of many contradictions I live with. How can I support Israel while realizing more and more that American Jews need to find other, extra-Zionist preoccupations that invigorate their own community? How can I study epidemiology while retaining a healthy skepticism about the risk-free messianism peddled by so many advocacy groups?
To create an ideology, and then to try and convince others of its usefulness, one needs a modicum of stability. One cannot constantly migrate from group to group, even on the basis of deep-rooted frustration, until one is sure that the most fruitful frustrations are not to be found in one's current home. If I am dissatisfied by the multiple contradictions I negotiate, I am also inspired by what is possible precisely because of these contradictions. If I were completely satisfied by my community, something would be terribly wrong.
What follows is inspired by a post of Naomi Chana's.
On Sunday I attended a Chasidic protest in Williamsburg as research for a story that Steven I. Weiss (of Protocols) and I are working on. More on that later. From a sociological and psychological point of view, though, the visit provided yet another opportunity to marvel at how one can have a great deal in common with a group yet feel completely out of place among them.
No, this is not going to be an omphalocentric meditation on Identity, the Mystery that is Me. But I am going to talk about one of my preoccupations: the creation of an ideology that takes advantage of contradictory ideas without being beholden to the entirety of their sources.
Let me be more specific. I would like more Jews to appreciate the Yiddish language, and I would like to help strengthen and expand our almost nonexistent (but what an "almost"!) community of secular-minded Yiddish speakers. "Secular" is meant not as an exclusion of religion (I am observant myself), but as a denial of fundamentalism.
Since I am a Yiddishist, I am fascinated by the particular brand of the language characteristic of American Chasidim, both in its colloquial and literary registers. As Joshua Fishman has pointed out time and again in his articles in the Yiddish Forward and elsewhere, secular Yiddishists have one large thing to learn from the Chasidim: that speaking a language in the home-family-neighborhood nexus, not theater, newspapers, or literature, is what makes a spoken language intergenerationally transmissible.
So why don't I move to Borough Park or Williamsburg, where spoken Yiddish is a lot more secure than in downtown Manhattan? An acquaintance of mine, an intelligent ultra-Orthodox woman, asked me more or less this question after a talk I gave a few months ago at a conference in Baltimore of the International Association of Yiddish Clubs. In response, I said, "I'm not a Chasid. I am not against Chasidim; I appreciate their use of Yiddish. But my religious observance and philosophical approach to Judaism is quite different, and I think it worth my while to try and build a liberally Jewish, philosophically cogent, Yiddish-speaking community where I live."
In other words, I am devoting time and frustration to a near-impossible contradiction in terms. I am a traditional Jew in an egalitarian Conservative congregation speaking Yiddish with my family. Such traditional Judaism, in my personal context, raises another contradiction. I am observant of the Sabbath and holidays and kashrut, and I study Torah regularly, albeit with a critical eye. Regular readers of this blog already know that I frequently despair about the Conservative movement's many flaws. Why then -- some of you might ask -- do you not flee to the Orthodox movement, or even take advantage of the Reform movement's increasing observance?
Such questions could be asked of many contradictions I live with. How can I support Israel while realizing more and more that American Jews need to find other, extra-Zionist preoccupations that invigorate their own community? How can I study epidemiology while retaining a healthy skepticism about the risk-free messianism peddled by so many advocacy groups?
To create an ideology, and then to try and convince others of its usefulness, one needs a modicum of stability. One cannot constantly migrate from group to group, even on the basis of deep-rooted frustration, until one is sure that the most fruitful frustrations are not to be found in one's current home. If I am dissatisfied by the multiple contradictions I negotiate, I am also inspired by what is possible precisely because of these contradictions. If I were completely satisfied by my community, something would be terribly wrong.
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