“The Magician” by I.L. Peretz – An Elijah story

I am drawn to Elijah stories. These are essentially stories in which a stranger comes to town and fixes things. Passover, when we hope that Elijah will come to our Seder and tell us that the Messiah is on his way, seems an ideal time to (begin to) talk about these stories.

“The Magician” by I.L. Peretz is a typical Elijah folktale. A poor magician arrives at a small town and causes all the fixings of a seder to appear out of nowhere for a poor couple. Before they eat anything though, they check with their rabbi to make sure it is OK. He explains how they can tell if it is, but by the time they return, the magician, who, they now realize, is Elijah, has gone.

My question: If they had not doubted and checked with their local source of Jewish law, would they have broken bread (well, matzah) with Eliyahu HaNavi? Did they miss a chance to bring the Messiah? And why did they refuse to go to a neighbor’s house and allow the neighbor the opportunity to perform the mitzvah of welcoming guests? Why insist on God providing? There is a joke about a man stranded by a flood who refuses three offers of help as the waters rise, each time saying that God will save him; he drowns. When he gets Heaven and and starts to complain about not being rescued, the response is that he had three chances to live. Or, there is the Midrash about Nachshon and how the waters of the Red Sea did not part until he stepped into them. In other words, it is not enough to rely on God to do everything for us; we must act.

The story can be found in The Seven Good Years and Other Stories of I.L. Peretz translated and adapted by Esther Hautzig and illustrated by Deborah Kogan Ray (Philadelphia, 1984). I talked to Ms. Hautzig at an Association of Jewish Libraries convention and asked if she had abridged the original Yiddish story to make it more suitable for young adults. She said that quite the contrary, she made the stories longer to explain the terms and way of life that most people no longer know. I.L. Peretz was one of the Jewish writers of the 19th century who created Yiddish literature. Another highly recommended story in this book is “Bontche Shweig” (Bontche, the Silent). There is also “The Treasure,” which is reminiscent of The Treasure, which I reviewed in an earlier post.

Of course, it is also traditional to read Shir HaShirim, the Song of Songs aka the Song of Solomon. (Or for incredibly light reading about a world where everything works out for the best, there’s also P.G. Wodehouse’s “Jeeves and the Song of Songs,” with no obvious Jewish content whatsoever.)

The Secret Seder

The Secret Seder by Doreen Rappaport, illustrated by Caldecott Medal winner, Emily Arnold McCully, tells the story of a Jewish boy who attends a Seder with his father while his family pretend to be Catholic during World War II. This picture book is meant for children; although neighbors are taken away by the Nazis and the boy’s grandparents have disappeared, no character dies. But it is clear that the family’s lives are in danger and that Jews throughout Europe are being murdered. This night if different from all other nights; in other times, Jews were oppressed, but now we are being destroyed. Gathering for a Jewish ceremony is an act of defiance and, hence, of freedom; but this is not an upbeat, optimistic story. Difficult questions are asked and, as in the Haggadah, they are not answered. (Which is fine—asking is more important than answering.) This book is not a “God is good and how can we be good in this good world” Jewish children’s book. It is about how to maintain your integrity in dire straits. (The Hebrew word, Mitzrayim, usually translated as Egypt, also means straits.)

When I picked up The Secret Seder and read it, I thought about how my husband’s brother’s wife’s father, like the father in this book, hid in the mountains during World War II. He even wrote a book about it. When I finished the story and read the afterword (I also read forewords and even title page versos) I saw the name, Mednicki. I remembered that my sister-in-law’s father, Bernard Mednick, used that name. And I thought, “ooh, ooh! I know the father in this story!”

I gave the book to my sister-in-law, even though I assumed she was already familiar with the book. But, no! Even her brother, the boy in the story, had never heard of The Secret Seder. Through a colleague, he contacted the author, Doreen Rappaport, who was delighted to find him. She had long since given up hope of making contact.[1] While the boy in the story and my relative by marriage both attended Seders, the details in The Secret Seder were invented by Ms. Rappaport, who was compelled to tell this story but had no access to any actual participants.

The meeting of the author and her main character was written about in the Philadelphia Jewish Exponent. [2] No mention of me was made. Without me they probably would not have met. Clearly I am the most important part of this story. This has made me think about how history is recorded. Not everything is included. When it is included, it is not always accurate. In the Exponent article, my sister-in-law read The Secret Seder and saw mention of her father’s book; her brother then emailed the author. Deleting me and a music teacher with email makes the article shorter without loss of relevant details for the points made. But a different story could be written based on a fuller accounting.

Passover Prep: Wonders and Miracles

Now that we’ve gotten in the mood for Passover via two Seder books [1, 2] and some of us have started to go insane cleaning things we never knew were dirty, it’s wise to occasionally take a break to get inspired and remember that the holiday is about more than cleaning and preparing. The library has some great books to inspire us and offer some fresh ways to see Passover and the world.

I’ve chosen Eric A. Kimmel’s Wonders and Miracles: A Passover Companion (New York: Scholastic Press, 2004) as the Book of the Week, but there are plenty of other good books. This book has pictures from several illustrated Haggadot, stories, explanations, recipes, prayers with translations and transliterations, Debbie Friedman lyrics and more! Not surprisingly for a book published by Scholastic, this book is appropriate for, but not limited to, middle schoolers; I learned things. While Dr. Kimmel assumes his primary audience is Jewish, some of his comments will be of interest to Christians. Eric Kimmel has written many children’s picture books—which makes him a great author in my estimation. We  corresponded via email after I saw him speak in New York to promote this book—which makes him a mensch.

Some of the other books that look inviting in our library include:

• Creating Lively Passover Seders: A Sourcebook of Engaging Tales, Texts & Activities by David Arnow (Woodstock, VT: Jewish Lights Publishing, 2004).
• The Women’s Passover Companion: Women’s Reflections on the Festival of Freedom edited by R. Sharon Cohen Anisfeld, Tara Mohr, and Catherine Spector (Woodstock, VT: Jewish Lights Publishing, 2003). The editors have a Yale connection, as does Paula Hyman, who wrote the foreword. Lots of contributions from prominent Jewish women.
• Leading the Passover journey: The Seder’s Meaning Revealed, the Haggadah’s Story Retold by Nathan Laufer (Woodstock, VT: Jewish Lights Publishing, 2005).
• Uncle Eli’s Special for Kids Most Fun Ever Under the Table Passover Haggadah by Eliezer Segal (San Francisco, CA: No Starch Press, 1999). Recommended by R. Dana Bogatz.

You might notice that most of these books are published by Jewish Lights. What makes you trust a book enough to pick it up and look at it? The author? Because you’ve read her before? Because you’ve heard of him? The  cover? The quality of the paper? The fonts? The publishing house? Because you’ve liked other books printed by it? Because a favorite author is published by it? The blurbs on the back cover? The topic? The pictures?

I like Jewish Lights because I like Lawrence Kushner. I like Rabbi Kushner because I attended a program he did in Plainfield, NJ, many years ago. He picked some audience members to be the various characters in the Adam and Eve story and he was thoughtful enough to ask the apple what she thought about what was going on in the story. In addition to books about spirituality, he wrote an alphabet book (note my love of children’s picture books), The Book of Letters, and a nicely self-deprecating explanation of how he came to do so.

One last comment before I get back to cleaning: What you bring to a book and what you want to get from it are (nearly?) as important as the contents of the book. Each time you read it, you will be different.

Every Picture Tells a Story: The Sarajevo Haggadah

People of the Book: A Novel by Geraldine Brooks (2008) is a popular book of Jewish historical fiction. It explores various times and places of Jewish history by tracing the journey of The Sarajevo Haggadah, originally created in the fourteenth century.

Kiddush, etc.

The author portrays what life was like via imaginary characters. Muslims are shown in a most sympathetic light (except for one story). I found the Inquisition story very disturbing; torture is graphically described. The stain in the Haggadah, that I always assumed was wine, is said to be blood. The book is reminiscent of James Michener’s The Source (1965), except that the stories are in reverse chronological order in People of the Book. I know many people love this book and that it is a popular Book Group selection. I found the writing not as polished as I would have liked. I was especially disappointed by the absence of any pictures since the plot refers to the Haggadah’s illustrations so often.

spills on "Ha Lachma Anya ..."

One important plot point has to do with the fact that a reproduction is never entirely the same as the original. Digital copies of a picture, no matter how small the pixel size is, will never be quite like a painting done by hand. And certainly copies of the things that get spilled or dropped on a book  as it is used will not be the same as the actual spillage. I think this relates to the interest in the analog qualities of music records as opposed to the digital audio files that have mostly replaced them. Anyway, ….

The book I really want to recommend this week is the library’s facsimile edition of The Sarajevo Haggadah. Half the book is English commentary and history by Cecil Roth; the other half is a reproduction of the original on shiny paper. The more recent, unfortunately exciting, history of the Haggadah happened after this version was published. It is mentioned in Geraldine Brooks’ novel.

 

Reed Sea; Miriam

Creation

The Haggadah starts with pictures of Creation and the origins of the Jewish people.

Wise and wicked sons

The illustrations are brilliant and the Hebrew is surprisingly readable. It was exciting to see two of the four sons, Hacham (wise) and Rasha (wicked),  highlighted in decorative borders on facing pages.

Every page is beautiful. It reminded me how important the visual appearance of books is. I’m toying with the idea that one problem with too many Jewish ritual books is that there are no pictures. Why can’t we have a siddur with cartoons?

Two illustrated 20th-century Haggadot in our library are by Arthur Syzk and Ben Shahn; Cecil Roth is connected to these books as well. And there are others on display on top of the bookcases in the children’s  section of the library.

Next week I’ll talk about some books that you can use to get ready for and celebrate Passover.

Meanwhile, if you would like to comment with recommendations about Haggadot (and foods and activities) for the Seder, I would be most appreciative: After about a quarter of a century (wow!), I think I’ve done all I can with the Conservative movement’s Feast of Freedom and my husband is eager for a book that has page numbers.

Preliminary Passover Prep: Only Nine Chairs

To transition from Purim to Pesach, the Book of the Week is a silly Passover book,  Only Nine Chairs by Deborah Miller, with illustrations by Karen Ostrove. What would you do if you had only nine chairs for nineteen people? Using just one chair allows for some creative ways of performing the Seder rituals. The story is clever, poetic, educational, and funny. The illustrations are equally clever and funny.

Not to name drop, but …

I remember Karen Ostrove mentioning how difficult it was to draw the same characters in different scenes doing different things. As hard as it is to do something well once, it is even harder to do it consistently in new circumstances. I’m sure there’s a moral here. Perhaps buried under all the matzah. Look at the book to see what I mean.