מענדעלע

borukh ate, zingt der tate un er tsindt di likht. un di shtraln, milde faln. af zayn blas gezikht.

un a fayer, heylik, tayer in di oygn laykht. un der mider mit di glider hot zikh oysgeglaykht.

un es dakht zikh un es trakht zikh: s'iz nokh epes do, s'iz geblibn vos tsu libn, heylik iz di sho.

alte klangen, lang fargangen, neyn, s'klingt nokh atsind. zing zhe, tate, borukh ate, un ikh blayb dayn kind.

Avrom Reisen

A freylekhn yontev!

Iosif Vaisman

Sholem aleykhem,

vi bald men iz do farbetn tsu gebn an araynfir ver me iz un fun vanen un fun vos... bin ikh moyde, az haynt hob ikh zikh take farshribn oyf der mendele-list untern nomen Ane Kleine. arbetn arbet ikh inem yidishn opteyl (universitet fun Trier) in a proyekt, vos es vert ongefirt fun Prof. Dr. Erika Timm, un vu mir farnemen zikh mit a mayrev-yidishn ksav-yad fun 16. yorhundert (a mayse-bukh ksav-yad). akhuts dem arbet ikh inem foentishn opteyl oyf nokh a yidishn inyen: mizrekh-yidishe fonetik; mit instrumental-fonetishe analizn git men do a frishn kuk oyfn akustishen tsad funem geredtn yidish. mit hartsike grusn

Khane (Ane) Kleine.

There has been a spate of letters to Mendele about Itzik Feffer's " A Wedding in Birobidjan." Today, while organizing my Yiddish books, I came across a photocopy of a translation into English of this poem, by S.S.L. There is no date or source on the page, except for a printers' union "bug" numbered 309. If anyone knows who this mysterious translator is, and where this translation appeared, please let me know.

Sincerely, Ida Selavan-Schwarcz

Az me hert, az me leyent a geshmak por verter af yidish vert men bashonken mit a shtik gezunt un lebn. Hearing or reading a hearty bit of Yiddish endows one with a health-giving spirit of liveliness. The anecdote below illustrates, I think, a contrast between enthusiasts for Yiddish and the naysayers.

Despite having recently suffered a life-threatening episode of acute pulmonary hemorrhagic tuberculosis, Sholem Aleichem overflowed with enthusiasm and love for Yiddish in 1908. I.D. Berkowitz told a story illustrating Sholem Aleichem's contagious"yidishkeyt" with which he drew into "yidishkeyt" a fellow Jew who had disconnected from Jewish life and concepts. I set this life-affirming "yidishkeyt" as a stark contrast against the attitudes of right-wingers (e.g. at National Review or Harvard) who insist (in the face of contrary evidence) that Yiddish neither has nor deserves relevance, neither has nor even deserves life. First, I want to set a philosophical basis, posited by Erich Fromm, on which to draw the contrast.

Erich Fromm, in more than one of his thought-provoking books, claimed to recognize two opposing tendencies in people. I won't trace his (to my mind, convincing) rationale, but these are his intriguing classifications: people are buffeted by opposing inner trends: by a biophilous (life-loving) tendency in opposition to a simultaneous necrophilous (death-loving) tendency. He draws many examples and stresses that no human being is controlled solely by either tendency. However, one or the other may dominate. The creative are biophilous, the destructive are necrophilous. In my opinion, authoritarian right-wingers tend to be overwhelmed by destructive rather than creative trends.

Sholem Aleichem was one of the most creative individuals in our history, Jewish or not. He was recuperating in a sanatorium on the Italian Riviera. His physician, Dr. Mandelberg, became his friend and companion. While taking a walk on the marina, they engaged in mutually stimulating conversations. Now, I'll let Berkowitz tell the story:

[English follows]

Beyde hobn gehat eyner afn andern a gute virkung. D"r Mandelberg hot gevirkt af Sholem-Aleykhemen tsum gutn mit zayn medetsinisher oyfzikht un hot im a sakh mitgeholfn baytsukumen zayn sharfn tsushtand fun zayn krankeyt; un Sholem-Aleykhem hot gevirkt af Mandelberg, er zol zikh onheybn interesirn mit yidn un mit yidishe problemen. Biz yenem vinter hot D"r Mandelberg fun yidishkeyt keyn shum bagrif nit gehat. Fun yidishe shrayber hot er efsher gehert nor dem eyn nomen Sholem-Aleykhem - un oykh dos nor derfar, vayl Sholem-Aleykhem iz geven a Kiever. Ikh gedenk, vi azoy Sholem-Aleykhem hot eynmol, shpatsirnkik af der marina, maysterhaft iberdertseylt far Mandelberg Perets's folkstimlikhe geshikhte "Dray Matones", un zayn tsuherer hot mit ekhter "goyisher" bagaysterung gegaft: azelkhe sheyne shrayber farmogn di yidn!... Ikh vel nit zogn, az Sholem-Aleykhem hot zayn asimilirtn doctor bakert tsu yidishkeyt; Sholem-Aleykhem hot beteyve nit lib gehat di arbet fun khapn neshomes. Er hot ober farzeyt dos ershte kerndl fun yidishn bavustzayn, un dos hot gegreykht azoy vayt, az atsind zitst D"r Mandelberg ayngebirgert in Tel-Aviv, redt Tel-Aviver hebreyish, un iz der hoypt doctor fun der arbeterklinik "kupat kholim." (Undzere Rishoynim, fun Y.D. Berkowitz, 3: 189-190, Hamenorah, Tel-Aviv, 1966.)

Each affected the other to the good: Dr. Mandelbertg with medical supervision helped Sholem Aleichem withstand his severe illness; and Sholem Aleichem made Mandelberg begin to take an interest in Jews and Jewish problems. Until that winter, Dr. Mandelberg had not any conception of Jewishness. He had possibly heard of only one Jewish writer, Sholem Aleichem, and only because Sholem Aleichem was from Kiev. I remember how once Sholem Aleichem, taking a walk on the marina, masterfully related Peretz's popular story, "Three Gifts," to Mandelberg, and his listener, with genuine "goyish" enthusiasm reacted with awe: Jews have fine writers like this among them!... I will not claim that Sholem Aleichem turned his assimilated doctor back to Jewishness: Sholem Aleichem did not by nature like to ensnare souls. However, he sowed the first kernels of Jewish consciousness, and this reached so far that today [Berkowitz probably wrote this in 1931. L.F.] Dr. Mandelberg is a citizen of Tel-Aviv, speaks Hebrew, Tel-Aviv style, and is head physician in the workers' free clinic. * * * Yiddish even then was called "irrelevant" and "dead or dying" by some. Still, Sholem Aleichem struck up the spark of yidishkeyt in another by invoking Jewish creativity in Yiddish. Any who know some Yiddish, and pay more attention to the life in themselves, rather than the decay, know full well that this is still going on.

Louis Fridhandler

There seems to be some controversy lately about YIVO Yiddish vs. dialects vs. haredi argots, as if there is just one correct way for a living language to survive. Dead languages such as Latin or Classic Greek don't have such problems. Is that what we really want for a living Yiddish? Of course a living, cultured language should not only have a beautiful, classic literature, but should have the possibility of evolving throuhg regionalisms, dialects and yes, even hodgepodge street argots. Rather than mourn the haredi Yinglish-Yiddish we should cheer it. It does not detract from the classic culture but rather proves that Yiddish, unlike Latin, is a living language and an evolving culture.

I was very moved by the beauty of the Arn Vergelis poem "Dos Land Birobidzhan". Even though written in the Soviet Yiddish dialect rather than in YIVO, it is clearly in the main stream of world literary culture. The subtle allusion that it makes to Goethe's "Kenst du das Land Wo die Citronen Bluhen" adds to its exquisite piquency. Yes, works like this keep Yiddish a living language also. There is no need to mourn or ventilate or to apologize. There is much to rejoice. And as for di sonim, mir hobn zey in bod!

Arre Komar

Es iz gut tsu leynen az men geyt bezukhn di vos redn Yidish in hasidishe gegntn. Un men hot nisht keyn moyre afile. Un men darf amol take leynt voz zey shraybn. Ikh vil nor bamerkn vegn vos Refoyl Finkl hot geshribn. Er tsaygt az (zayer) zeyer geshribn Yidish- in Monsi, iz dokh gor andersh fun klal Yidish. Er bamerkt oykh az s'iz nisht, vi a sakh mentshn hobn lib tsu zogn -a tsebrokhn Yidish- bloyz an ander Yidish. Un vi mit ale dialektn, iz es amol mer enlikh tsu datsh, amol nisht. Un men darf visn az datsh hot oykh ire dialektn. Di lange sheyne liste vos er hot gegebn iz nisht nor an untershid tsvishn klal "in zayer" dialekt, nor a sakh mer komplitsiert. Men ken zikh, af Yidish, oysdrikn in farshidene vegn un es iz nisht azoy glathavdole tsu makn -klal oder nisht klal- vayl klal aleyn iz oykh a gemishte kashe.

For those who are learners of Yiddish and saw Refoyl Finkl's lovely list of klal versus Hasidic -Monsey- Yiddish I just want to point out that the differences are not quite so simple. Yiddish possesses a rich vocabulary that varies somewhat by dialect. Similarity to German is sometimes a function of dialect and sometimes a function of borrowingresulting in what is known as Daytshmerish.

His lists only show how much more dictionary and thesaurus work is needed.

Miriam Isaacs

Bruce claims (08.097) that the Yiddish word "aynfarshtendik" is a German word. it's not. The German word for "maskim" ("agreed") is "einverstanden." There's also a specifically Austrian term: "einverstaendlich"-"By mutual consent." The Yiddish word "eynfarshtendik" is obviously of German origin, and its form either derives from a German dialect or was recast in Yiddish. There are countless examples of such Yiddish revisions of borrowed words: e.g. "Gezelnshaft" along with "gezelshaft" (from German "Gesellschaft"), etc.

Given the fact that the form of "aynfarshtendik" seems unique to Yiddish, I think we can grant it droit de cite'rather than stigmatizing it as "daytshmerish."

Joachim Neugroschel

P.S. an intriguing example of what happens to some Polish words in Yiddish: the Polish idiom "prosto za mostu" (literally: "straight from the bridge') meaning "straight from the shoulder." In Yiddish it becomes "a proster-zmoster yid" = "A guy who shoots straight from the hip."

Sof December falt oys di ershte yortzait fun Professor Dwosie (Dorothy) Bilik, velche iz far di letzte twontzig yor geven lererin fun Yiddish, Yiddishe literatur un Churban-literatur in Maryland Universitet. Ir buch vegn di churban-geratevete Yiddishe shraibers un zajer ajnflus oyf der Americaner literatur, iz brait farshprait gevorn in akademishe kraizn un iz genutzt gevorn fun forshers un lerers in uptailungen fun chuban studies. Far gantze tzwantzig yor iz zi geven gehilf-professor un professor in dem Department fun Slavishe un Germanishe shprachn baim universitet. Zi hot ungefirt mit seminarn, redagirt visenshaftleche ziurnaln un aingeordnt literarishe collokiums, bai velche es zenen oyfgetroYiddish shraiber un barimte lektiorn.

Dorothy hot dertzoign a dor Yiddish-lerers un Yiddish-libhubers, mechabrim fun bicher, velche farnemen hain vichtike pozitzies in universitetn, shulen in un arum Washington. Ven Dorothy iz pluzling krank gevorn un zich genoytigt in upruh hot der shraiber fun di shures ubergenumen ire klassn in "Maryland University". Ich muz eidis zogn, az aza libshaft un derech-eretz tzu a lererin hob ich, in main Amerikaner derfarung als a lerer, keinmol nisht gezen. Dorothy hot gefilt an oysergevainleche libshaft tzum Yiddishn lied, Yiddishe poezie un folks-tentz. Zi hot di liebshaft ubergetrogn tzu ire studentn. Noc ire sho'en in klass, flegt zi blaibn in ir biure un helfn di studentn tzugraitn zaire disertatzies. Ire artiklen vegn Yaakov Glatshtain, Yitzchak Bashevis-Singer, froyen in der Yiddisher literatur, ir "liebling" Sholem Aleichem un Gluckel-of-Hameln zenen gedrukt gevorn in literarishe tzitshriftn in Amerike un in oisland. Dvosie Bilik iz oyfgevaksn in a progresiver (Bundisher) heim in Brooklyn, N.Y. Yiddish iz far ir geven a gaistige religie, tzu velche zi hot zich gevidmet mit alle fiebern fun ir neshome un hartz. Zi hor gehofn der "Amerikaner Komissie vegon Churben Europe", die "Natzionale Endowment far di Humanities" un frai gegebn ir tzait als Presidentn fun "Amerikaner Farband fun Yiddishe Professrn". Ire interesn un talantn zenen geven farshednartike: Zi iz geven a lererin, zingerin, tentzerin, a sheferishe shraiberin, redaktorin un, di hoyptzach, a zeltn- vareme froy un mentsch mit a tifn interes tzu altz vos hot gehat a shaichus tzu Yiddish.

Ir langyoriker frait un kolege in Maryland Universitet, der faleger fun "Driad Press", poet un redaktor Merrill Leffler, hor gevidmet a poeme tzu Dorothy Bilik un zi forgelaint bei dem Ondenk Farzamlung, gevidmet Dorothy, tzu di Shlyshim fun ir plutzimdikn avekgein in bliendn elter fun 69 yor.. Zi hot ongezogt in ir tzavo'e az men zol noch ir nisht wainen: "Zol a klezmer kapelie' oder a zingerin shpiln un zingen Yiddishe lieder un zol der oylem tantzn... vaizn der welt, az afile ven lerers gayen avek, blaibt iber zajer gaistike yerushe-- dos Yiddishe wort, Yiddish gezanr un muzik"... Bai der hazkore noch Dorothy Bilik zenn di professorn un ire talmidim nochgekumen ir farlang: es zenen gezungen gevorn bloiz Yiddishe lider. Mir, ire fraint, kolegen un talmidim, demonen mit koved dem ershtn yortzaitfun a balibter Yiddish lererin.

("Der Onheib" Fall-Number 27)

Herman Taube

Mathew Goodman's column on latkes in the December 4th issue of the English _Forward_ provokes two comments. First, _pace_ Mr. Goodman, the Yiddish term _latke_ is probably not "derive[d] from the Russian word meaning 'pancakes'" since Slavicisms in Yiddish are more often from Ukrainian, Belarusian or Polish (the languages among whose speakers Jews lived) than from Russian. In this particular case, the Russian word is _olad'ia_, while Ukrainian has _oladka_ and Belarusian, _aladka_.

The second comment is actually a question. Mr. Goodman quotes the beginning of Mani Leyb's poem "Christmas" ("Nitl"), apparently in the translation by John Hollander that was published in the Howe/Wisse/ Shmeruk _Penguin Book of Modern Yiddish Verse_. Do more competent readers than I of Yiddish poetry agree that Hollander misunderstood the first line? Here are the first lines of the original and the translation:

Di nakht vekt oyf dos kuper fun di glokn. Mit falken, frost un vayrekh vakht di shtot: fun toyt shteyt oyf mit fridn zeyer got. Un makhnes trogn oyf a hoykhn flokn

zayn dmus...

The bronze of bells aroused by the night sky, The town has frost, flares, incense on its breath; Their God arises joyfully from death And the crowds carry, on a pole on high,

His image...

On my reading "di nakht" is the object of the first sentence; the subject is "dos kuper fun di glokn." To be sure, the line is syntactically ambiguous since feminine and neuter nouns do not distinguish nominative and accusative, but I am strengthened in my belief by the fact that the subjects of the second and third sentences are also at the end of their respective lines. My reading also seems to me to make better sense, but I am wary of imposing prosaic standards on poetry. What do other readers think?

Bob Rothstein