Have there always been so many wonderful essays written about Chanukah? Or is this just the first year I’m noticing? (Or does it simply have something to do with heavy-duty anthology promotion?) For an officially minor holiday, Chanukah seems to be inspiring some truly lovely writing. Here are two more finds: Amy Klein’s “Hanukkah Is in the Holiday Season, Too,” and David Bezmozgis’s “Festival of Birthdays.”
Posts Tagged‘Jewish-American literature’
Last week nine individual Americans and one cultural foundation received prestigious National Humanities Medals at the White House. These awards recognize outstanding cultural contributions in multiple fields.
Commentary magazine proudly noted connections with five of the medalists, and presented links to some of their noteworthy work online. Thus I finally–far too belatedly–came to read Cynthia Ozick’s classic story, “Envy; or, Yiddish in America.” The piece appeared in Commentary‘s pages back in November 1969. If you have not yet read it, you must.
Congratulations to all the medalists (especially Ruth R. Wisse, who led one of my most memorable courses at Harvard, on Jewish-American Literature, and to whom I will be forever indebted for introducing me to Ludwig Lewisohn’s Island Within).
“Jews have never considered Norman Mailer one of their own as they have Bellow, Malamud, the once pariah Roth or even the skeptical Woody Allen,” Mashey Bernstein writes this week for the JTA. “But I think they are mistaken.” Here’s why.
One of the perks of my “day job” at The City University of New York is proximity to an amazing array of creative writing programs, events, and talents. Today I am scheduled to meet with poet Grace Schulman, a Distinguished Professor at CUNY’s Baruch College. I’ve been reading some of Professor Schulman’s work lately, and am especially moved by her poem “Kol Nidrei: September 2001,” which presents a particularly Jewish perspective on life in New York just after the September 11 attacks. It’s an incredible piece.
I don’t live very far from The Jewish Museum, and yesterday, a gloriously sunny early autumn Saturday, I finally made my way over to see two exhibits: Isaac Bashevis Singer and the Lower East Side: Photographs by Bruce Davidson, and Camille Pissarro: Impressions of City and Country.
What a terrific way to spend part of my Saturday.
Especially in the immediate aftermath of the latest Nobel literature award, I appreciated the chance to learn more about Singer (1904-91), who won that prize back in 1978. “His” exhibit occupies just one large room filled with Davidson’s photographs, with a corner reserved for screening a film on which Singer collaborated, Isaac Singer’s Nightmare and Mrs. Pupko’s Beard.
The black-and-white photographs capture a world of which Singer was very much a part, but Davidson found subjects beyond the writer as well. One of the most affecting pictures shows an elderly rabbi, tefillin wrapped around his arm and only partially concealing the numbers tattooed there.
As for the Pissarro (1830-1903) exhibit, I had only dimly realized, if at all, the artist’s singular status as “the Jewish Impressionist.” Most of the works I associated with him came from his decidedly Impressionist approach; I hadn’t realized how much he had stretched himself with “newer” styles that reminded me more of Seurat or Van Gogh than Renoir or Monet. And much as I’ve studied the Dreyfus Affair (and believe me, with a Ph.D. in Modern French history, I have studied it), I didn’t realize how anti-Dreyfusard some of Pissarro’s fellow artists turned out to be, and how some of his friendships suffered at that time.
Taken together, the two exhibits also made me think of a recurrent question (see this post for some background): How do we define “Jewish” artists/writers? Singer quite clearly wrote of Jewish characters and Jewish settings; Pissarro’s work, at least what I’ve seen of it, reveals no such focus. And yet there they are, featured together on the second floor of The Jewish Museum. Pissarro died when Singer was two; together, their lives spanned 171 years of history.
There’s still time to see both exhibits–they’re both around until February 3, 2008. (If you can’t get to New York, you can take a virtual tour of the Pissarro show here.) But do try to catch them!