מענדעלע

To Leah Zazulyer:

The one which I remember was said while pinching the child's palm:

"tsip-tsop emerlakh kim tsu mir in kemerlakh vil ikh dir epes vazn a shisele mit azn fir ferd iugn zikh kale un khusn shlugen zikh"

"Chip" is derived from Russian _shchipat'_ - to pinch, "tsip" imitates the sound made by pecking chicken.

Iosif Vaisman

As a child I used to play a game with an aunt. It required only a piece of string tied at one end and is called "Cat's Cradle" in English. Each person forms a design with the string and the object of the game is for the other player to (1) remove the string from the opponents hands while, at the same time, (2) make a different pattern while doing so. Some of the combinations require several fingers from each hand to hold the design developed. They can become difficult but I believe the number of patterns that I used was less than a dozen.

Now for the question: my aunt always referred to this game with what I assumed was the Yiddish name of it: "ETTEL BETTEL."

For anyone out there familiar with the game and its Yiddish name, is it "ETTEL BETTEL" or did I misunderstand as a child?

As a side point and with a bit of sociology thrown in, my aunt told me that this game and jacks played with rocks or pebbles was the only source of amusement to a child in Poland at the time she lived there (ca. 1910). And what is the Yiddish name for "jacks," by the way?

Dan Leeson

In a private communication to me Michael Shimshoni raised an interesting point about the date of the first letter by Sholem Aleichem to Mordecai Spector re: Tevye. He felt I had marked it as the wrong Jewish year. I marked Sept. 21, 1894 as 5655. Michael suggested that Sept. 21 was still 5654. The discrepancy, I believe, lies most likely in the difference between the old style calendar used in Russia at the time, and the calendar used by most of the rest of the world. I should have pointed out that the old style was 12 or 13 days behind the times. Thank you Michael.

Now, the promised Tevye paragragh:

Sholem Aleichem included a sketchy description of Tevye in the 1894 version of the first Tevye story. It was removed for the 1903 revision (DOS GROYSE GEVINS) which is the version widely known. Note that in Letter One (Sept. 21) Sholem Aleichem writes, "I don't have to describe him for he describes himself." Sholem Aleichem must have changed his mind. He often revised his thinking.

I add a translation for those still learning Yiddish. I urge them, "Keep it up! It's worth the effort!"

>From Mordecai Spector's Hoyzfraynd, Volume 4, 1895. page 67. Sholem Aleichem as the narrator writes:

Ikh batrakht Tevyen un meyn, az er iz gor nisht azoy meshune vi im dakht zikh; meglekh, az s'iz im beser vi dem raykhster gevir in Yehupets. Tevye iz a yid a gezunter, a breytbeynidiker, a shvartser, a horiker, shver tsu visn vifl er iz alt, trogt groyse shtivl, a farshmoltseveter nakidke af a varem laybl in der grester hits, a meshune modne shnipsl afn haldz, got veyst fun vanen es hot zikh tsu im genumen, mit a vild kashketl afn kop vos zitst vi af katoves un hot kheyshek arop tsu shpringen. Tevye iz tomid oyfgeleygt tsu redn, hot lib a glaykhvertl, a moshl, a Torah, nisht keyn iberiker lamdn, nor nisht keyn am-horets in di kleyne oysies.

My translation:

I take a good look at Tevye, and find that he is not as odd as he thinks. It may be that he's better off than the richest man of means in Yehupets. Tevye is a well-built man, broad- boned, dark and hairy. It's hard to guess his age. He wears hefty boots, and a greasy cape over a warm shirt on the hottest of days. Around his neck is a peculiar little tie. God knows where it came from. There is a strange little hat on his head perched as though about to leap off as a prank. Tevye is always cheerful, ready to talk. He enjoys a joke, an apt adage, a bit of Torah. He is not overly learned, but no ignoramus as to the finer details.

Louis Fridhandler

As a "citizen", as a "speaker", as a "lover of Yiddis", I can only concur with Arn Abramson's expression of admiration for Yude Rozof's "stirring sentiments" on the nature of Yiddish. As a linguist, however, I must register certain reservations.

The emphasis on the use of loshn-koydesh is no less ideologically motivated or "true or authentic" than emphasis, at different times and in different places on the opposing deHebraization, Germanization and anti-daytshmerish, Slavicization, early Forverts-type Anglicization, etc.

There are a couple of assumptions that sound as if they should be true (would that they were), but are they?

i) Is it really loshn-koydesh that makes Yiddish "Jewish"? What should we do with "bentshn, leyenen, praven, treybern, davenen, orn, shul, milkhik, fleyshik, pareve, lernen"? What shall we think of pre-modern Yiddish literature which often shows so very little evidence of a loshn-koydesh component?

ii) Is it true, as Yudl Mark suggested decades ago, and Yude Rozof implies today, that every Hebrew/Aramaic word is potentially a Yiddish word since "to some extent the entire HA repertoire has, so to speak, been swallowed up in the broad sea of Yiddish" (Mark 1951)? Has it been?

Not really, not "on the ground"! For example, Uriel Weinreich's three articles in Leshonenu (1959-1961) on the geographic aspect of the Hebrew component of Yiddish demonstrate the contrary. Furthermore, the very experience of interviewing native speakers of Yiddish who are steeped in traditional HA sources, as well as native Yiddish speakers in Israel's Hebrew language environment, all point to the existence and importance of boundaries that belie such claims of "open-endedness", however attractive (politically correct?) they may seem.

Loshn-koydesh itself, and the loshn-koydesh component of Yiddish can be beautifully manipulated in a variety of ways for stylistic and cryptic purposes. We would do well to distinguish the variety of means at our disposal for doing so. It would mean distinguishing Yiddish (which, by definition incorporates a loshn-koydesh component) from a mixture of Yiddish and loshn- koydesh (for which see, for example, Uriel Weinreich on the mixed Hebrew-Yiddish scribal style of the 16-18 centuries--Leshonenu, 1957-58), from the use of loshn-koydesh citations in Yiddish.

Having said all of that, I say hats off to Yude Rozof's sentiments.

Mikhl Herzog

I note the question raised by Howie Aronson regarding the word "zhibe." When i was growing up in Brooklyn the Rabbis in my school used to refer to a "choop." Basically it referred to hair in front of the head that in any way was considered "long."[no longer a problem, i am afraid to say :-)]. I never hjeard the word "zhibe." Would enjoy hearing of any thoughts on either of these words. By the bye, the "choop" was considered a mark of lack of piety.

Jay Fleischer