“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.)

Less is More: Uri Shulevitz’s The Treasure

This week I intended to recommend The Rooster Prince, retold by Sydell Waxman and illustrated by Giora Carmi. It is based on a Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav parable ideal for a retelling as a children’s picture book: a young person is the main character, he does very silly things (sits under a table naked and eats scraps of food), and learns a valuable lesson about how to live in the world. I was so excited when I found two copies in the Temple Israel library. Glancing at it, I was prepared to love it, and, in fact, included it in my first Chronicle article, along with Rodger Kamenetz’s book, reviewed here last week. But rereading the book, my concerns grew. Too much is added; it’s a bit ungapatchka. The wise man of the original tale, who arrives knowing how to cure the prince, in this version becomes a Jewish boy abducted by the Tzar’s soldiers. The boy stumbles upon the solution haphazardly; there is no plan of gradual improvement. The pictures are busy and colorful; the text has many font types, angles, and sizes. Unlike most picture books, I recommend this more for young children, and less for adults.

Uri Shulevitz has taken another Rabbi Nachman tale and made a small, quiet gem of a book. The Treasure has lush pictures, very little dialog and few words. Like most retellings, there are changes, but not enough to distort the original intent. A man, Isaac, travels to find the treasure he has repeatedly dreamed of, only to be told by a guard at his destination that he (the guard) has dreamed that the treasure is in Isaac’s home. Shulevitz has Isaac give the guard a reward for his help and build a house of prayer. The journey home is the mirror image of the journey there. Isaac returns as he started—empty-handed, but now he has the knowledge he needs to find the treasure within his home/heart/self/soul. Rabbi Nachman explains that one must travel to find a tzaddik to  uncover what is already in oneself.

There are at least two other versions of this story worth noting. One is from centuries before Nachman lived and is about John Chapman of England, who had a similar dream and repaired part of a church. The other is a much busier story by Marilyn Hirsh, Rabbi Isaac and Captain Jiri, filled with confused guardian angels, rabbinic students and soldiers. The rabbi and the captain not only share the treasure, but also become mentors for the other’s followers.

All of this raises two questions:

1. When is a story so altered that it is longer the original story. How much can a story survive changes. Does a story belong to the teller or the audience?
2. How do you change a story to make it good/interesting/suitable for children? Do you have the make a main character a child? Do you have to get rid of the violent bits? or make them more violent? Do you change shades of gray into black and white?
3. How do you make a story into a Jewish children’s story? Does it have to take place in an Eastern European shtetl in the 19th century? Does it have to take place during Hanukkah?

I have lots more to say about The Treasure and similar stories and children’s literature. But I’d really want to hear what you have to say.

*** I’m also looking for guest recommenders. Just write a few sentences about a book in the Temple Israel library and send them to me at rmyers@tiwestport.org or as a comment here. ***