A thoughtful post from Josh Corey on Jewishness and his reflections on the Penn Sound video of the panel on Secular Jewish culture (which I also just finished watching last night — perfect for hemming a dress to). Like Josh, I’m down with vaudeville and justice, in that order, but I am down with justice to the extent that what Josh calls the “self-entitlement” — in many cases I’d call it outright bigotry – of certain Jews fills me with rage. More on this further down in this post in a bit, but first a few notes on the Penn Sound panel:

One is delighted by the ethnic characteristics and mannerisms of most of the participants, their New York-y ever-so-slightly-Yiddish-inflected accents which perhaps were enabled to bloom (a nice Jewish name, after all) in each other’s company and in that context. Jewishness is very much “of the voice” — as well as “of the word.” One instance of magnificently curly hair. Terrific noses and those beautiful heavy-lidded eyes so much like those of our Arab co-tribe. Wit — somehow more moist than dry. And, as Perloff, the least “Jewish” in mannerism and appearance on the panel, pointed out, humorous self-deprecation — the aspect that most resonates with my own stance and survival strategy. I actually remember remarking to Charles B., whose poem Perloff used as a model for such a quality, talking of my own poem/intvw. on Penn Sound, that it was “a little self-deprecatory” and I think I even went so far as to call it a “Jew thing.” That quality is truly, for me, a dividing line. I cannot imagine my goyim poetess sistren, for example Lee Ann “I glow among poets” Brown, or Jennifer “Poster Child for Lyric Poetry [although, OK, that is pretty funny]” Moxley, or Ange Mlinko, in her quest for The Beautiful, being interested in indulging in the kind of self-deprecation that comes naturally to me and that I quite simply find hilarious. Would every Jewess poetess (sorry!) pass that shibboleth? Probably not. But I do see it a little in Joanna Fuhrman’s work, and in Adeena Karasick’s even, to some extent, if not, say Rachel Levitsky’s or Karen Weiser’s.

…Some other interesting moments on the panel, before I forget: Stephen Paul-Miller’s theory, via his elderly mom, on poetic rhythms and davinning; Paul Auster’s inimitable bookish hunkiness; Perloff’s snap (a little harsh) at James Sherry (who asked why the panel did not address the issue of Israel more directly) when she insisted that poetry is about struggle rather than righteousness…

I can’t imagine how it is that Jewishness informs my sensibility (save a disturbing familial proclivity for puns), given that I was raised around ashrams instead of synagogues, and my mother took me Sufi dancing instead of teaching me the hora. Even so many generations away from the shtetl, how is it that I can so easily slip into a Jewish mode, even more easily than into, say, an Ebonics accent although I lived in a couple of black neighborhoods and never a Jewish one? Incidentally, the only other ethnic impression that I can do with as much ease is Japanese. I anyhow love the feeling of “playing Jewish” — it feels earthy and emotional and evokes an inner soundtrack of fiddles and klezmer, and it really makes me wonder what kind of information is stashed in our DNA, anyway.

Whatever it is, it is simply about qualities, and not about any kind of entitlement, negative or positive, I hope — to return to the rage I mentioned in the first paragraph. Living in Brooklyn, I find myself often in Jewish neighborhoods. I am fascinated by nearby Boro Park, and go there sometimes to shop, or even, you know, just to ogle. You know, because given a slightly different set of circumstances, those people… could be me. It’s a little hard to imagine myself in seamed stockings and a wig, but it’s a thought I have to entertain. You know, what if my ancestors, who came over very early — I think I’m like sixth generation — had settled here instead of moving to the midwest and west? Despite these fanciful imaginings, I have to say I don’t feel connected to those “real Jews” at all. In a way I feel farther away from them than from, say, my Japanese students, in whose culture I have participated much more deeply, despite both cultures being essentially “closed.” I don’t even remotely long to feel connected to the “real Jews” either. A mutual repudiation lies behind our different interpretations of American Jewishness. I feel, somehow, an irrational “right” to be more openly disapproving of their culture than of a culture which can not in any way be said to be “mine.” That could stem, in part, from their obvious disapproval of me as someone who has assimilated beyond redemption — or who has self-exiled beyond exile, perhaps? With my bare tattooed arm and crazy loose hair and noisy pagan baubles and Irish atheist husband and Arabic music spilling out of my IPod and total disrespect of tradition. But I don’t care. It’s interesting, sometimes, to move among them and gauge their reactions.

And also to undermine my own stereotyping, sometimes. One of the belly dance classes I take is at a little studio for Jewish women (well, it’s for women, but I’ve only seen Jewish women there) down at Avenue I and MacDonald in the heart of Brooklyn. The teacher is a vivacious Israeli woman, Avivit, whose English makes me giggle: “Poosh! Poosh!” she demands, as we force our hips more energetically to the side. The students run the gamut of Brooklyn Jewishness, with me of course at the farthest left end, but I am especially interested in the example of Zipporah, mother of several, who wears a snood and modest clothing outside of class, but who has recently had her navel pierced. I mean — WOW!

Anyway, I picked up a newsletter for Jewish ladies at the studio, out of curiosity, and was APPALLED by the following Q. and A. I found therein:

Q. Dear Rabbi Moss,
I have long been uncomfortqable with the concept of the “Chosen People.” To suggest that because our ancestors stood at Mt. Sinai we are somehow closer to G-d than all other nations smacks of arrogance, elitism, and racial prejudice. How is that any different than anti-Semitism?

Sincerely,
Margaret

[Of course I was not appalled by the question, which is utterly reasonable, and could have issued from my own pen. It was only the bizarre logic of the answer, which, to be honest, I have heard from my own Orthodox cousin, that enraged me:]

A: Dear Margaret:

That is a fantastic question — a question that could only come from someone who is chosen [!]. Allow me to explain. In the Jewish understanding, chosenness leads not to arrogance [although, you know, tell that to the Palestinians], but rather to humility [as my cousin put it, with a very somber face, “chosenness is a burden”]. If it were some human king that chose us to be his special people then your assumption would be correct — we would become elitists. When a mortal power shows favoritism towards a subject, that subject will become more arrogrant as a result — the cloer you are to the king, the more significant you are, and the more significant yu are the higher respect you feel you deserve. But we were chosen by G-d. And the closer you are to G-d, the more you sense your insignificance….Being close with G-d demands introspection and self-improvement, not smugness. This is the idea of the Chosen People — a nation of individuals who have been given the opportunity to sense G-d’s closeness….All agree that it was the Jews that introduced this world to monotheism and a system of ethics and morals that has shaped the modern view of life [as a struggle against military-industrial terrorism?? What is “the modern view of life, exactly?] and its purpose [to get a big screen TV? I’m not clear on what is being implied here.] ….To say that this [concept] is ehtnocentric is absurd for one simple reason: anyone from any ethnic background can concert to Judaism and become chosen. Jewish chosenness is not a gene, it is a state of the soul. Anyone wishing to take it upon themselves is welcome — as long as they are ready to have their bubble burst. So the arrogant person is not acting chosen. The true test of chosenness is how humble you are. You Margaret, have passed this test with flying colors. Your humility is so deep, it doesn’t allow you to accept that you are chosen. While most other religious groups are quite comfortable claiming that they are the best, we Jews will do anything to say that we are nothing special. Now that’s what I call a Chosen People!

I suppose Rabbi Moss’ twisted answer is an example of a particularly perverse use of the self-deprecation I mentioned earlier. But sorry, Rabbi, this logic, to me, simply does not fly. For one thing, I don’t know any humble Jews, whether they are religious or secular. Every single Jew I know is thrilled to trumpet their achievements and virtues (or have their mother do it for them). Secondly, monotheism is just a religious mimicry of a form of social power. Thirdly, Judaism is primarily an ethnicity, although now and then (I’d be interested to see the statistics on this) you get a shiksa or two converting to marry some cute Jewish guy… Anyway, whatever. I did rage out on this for a couple of days.

More recently, the target of my rage was in a newsprint advertising circular I picked up in Boro Park the other day with a headline reading “Help Stop The [sic] Evil Decree of the Wicked Sharon” — which is not to say that I don’t think Sharon is wicked, just that the decree is one of the first sensible things I’ve heard issuing out of Israel in a long time. Inside the circular is “A Plea for Your Help from Gush Katif,” written by a settler named Rachel Saperstein. She piously describes how the rules have “become stricter, the decrees more draconian, the police more brutal.” And while I am hardly in favor of brutal police, I would truly like to shake Rachel by her snood and say, “SO GET THE FUCK OUT! IT’S TIME TO LEAVE ALREADY.” These people are not “victims” — they are government pawns , and I have no sympathy with their shortsighted narrowminded dogmatic cause whatsoever…

as I have no sympathy with any sort of religious extremism, at all. When I wrote the line, “Jews as elective infants: are you autistic, or are you just davinning?” I was expressing my horror that people can so willingly give up their own capacity to make decisions about their lives and behavior in favor of arcane rituals and codes that often condone outrageous injustice.

As for me, I’ll always be a Jewess — but that doesn’t preclude my being a PANTHEIST/ANIMIST/AGNOSTIC/VAUDEVILLIAN. So there.