The History of Yiddish Literature in the Nineteenth Century

by Leo Wiener

"'I just happened to think,' she said, 'when my mother of blessed memory was alive, my father used to say that she was his soul ... they loved each other so much!...'

"I do not know how it came to me, only I suddenly took hold of her hand, and trembling, said:

"'Gütele, would you like to be my soul?'

"She answered me, softly:

"'Yes.'"

From these two soulful, tender stories, we pass to one not less pathetic and an even more profound psychological study. The beggar-student, harmlessly insane, has grown faint from two days' fasting and long poring over the Talmud, and is discussing with himself whether he is one, or two, or more, and whether he is really himself. He has finally the same doubts of Wolf the Merchant, who is just reading in the Talmud. He imagines that three Wolfs are sitting there: one who is trying to cheat God with his piety; one who cheats his fellow-men in his shop; and one who beats his wife who furnishes the beggar-student with an occasional meal. He takes a violent dislike to the third Wolf, and would like to kill him, but he does not wish to injure the other two Wolfs. The monologue of this beggar-student, told in about twenty octavo pages, is one of the most remarkable to be found in any literature: it must be read in the original to be fully appreciated.

With such a book Perez made his entrance into the field of letters. To say that his future works show a riper talent would be to place too low an estimate on his first book, which, in spite of the many excellent things he has written, still remains among the very best. In 1891, when Spektor's annual was temporarily suspended, and Rabinowitsch's periodical had ceased appearing, Perez issued a new periodical, Die jüdische Bibliothēk, which he intended to be a semi-annual, but of which only three volumes have so far been issued. In the introduction to the first volume Perez makes a plea for the education of the people, in which are the following significant words: "Help us educate the poor, wretched people; leave them not a prey to fanatics, who will suck out the last trace of blood and the last trace of marrow from their lean bones. Leave them not in the hands of the visionaries, who will entice them into wildernesses! Let not boys and school-children lead them by the nose,—have pity on the people! Let them not fall! The people have in themselves a certain amount of vital power, a fund of energy. The people are the carriers of a civilization that the world does not undervalue, of ideas that would be of great use to it. The people are an ever living flower.... In daytime, when the sun shines, when the spirit of man is developing, it revives and unfolds its leaves; but no sooner does dark night approach than it closes up again, shrivels up, and goes back into itself.... It is then that it has the appearance of a common weed ... and when the sun once more rises, some time passes before the sun seeks out the flower and the flower discovers that the sun shines.... At night it becomes dusty and soiled, so that the beams of light cannot penetrate it easily! Help the people to recognize the sun early in the morning!... But the main thing, means must be devised for the people to earn a living...."

In conformity with this platform, Perez calls his new periodical a literary, social, and economical periodical. Not only did the difficult task of editing this novel magazine devolve on Perez: he had also to supply the greater part of the literature himself, for there existed no writers in Judeo-German who could follow him readily in his new departure. He had to write the greater part of the scientific department, all of the reviews, all the editorials. In addition, he furnished most of the poetry and the novels. The few other writers who published their articles in this magazine owed their development to the editor's fostering care: they had nearly all been encouraged for the first time by him. Of his scientific articles particular mention must be made of his long essay 'On Trades,' which is a popularization of political economy, brought down to the level of the humblest reader. The admirable, entertaining style, the aptness of the illustrations, and the absence of doctrinarianism make it one of the most remarkable productions in popular science. Still more literary and perfect in form are his 'Pictures of a Provincial Journey.' It seems that Perez had been sent into the province for the sake of collecting statistical data on the condition of the Jews resident there. This essay is apparently a diary of his experiences on that trip. We do not remember of having read in any literature any journal approaching this one in literary value. What makes it particularly interesting is that it is written so that it will interest those very humble people about whom he is writing. The picture of misery which he unrolls before us, however saddening and distressing, is made so attractive by the manner of its telling that one cannot lay aside the book until one has read the whole seventy quarto pages.

Perez has written more than fifty sketches, all of them of the same sterling value as the three described above. Every new one is an additional gem in the crown he is making for himself. They are all characterized by the same tender pathos, the same excellence of style, the same delicacy of feeling. He generally prefers the tragic moments in life as fit objects for his sympathetic pen, but he has also treated in a masterly manner the gentle sentiment of love. But it is an entirely different kind from the romantic love, that he deems worthy of attention. It is the marital affection of the humblest families, which is developed under difficulties, strengthened by adversity, checkered by misfortune; it is the saintliest of all loves that he tells about as no one before him has ever told. In the same manner he likes to dwell on all the virtues which are brought out by suffering, which are evolved through misery and oppression, which are more gentle, more unselfish, more divine, the lower we descend in the scale of humanity. Nor need one suppose that in order to show his characters from that most advantageous side, the author has to resort to disguises of idealization. They are no better and no worse than one meets every day and all around us; but they are such as only he knows who is not deterred by the shabbiness of their dress and the squalor of their homes from making their intimate acquaintance. They do not carry their virtues for show, they do not give monetary contributions for charities, they do not join societies for the promotion of philanthropic institutions, they do not preach on duties to God and on the future life, they are not even given to the expression of moral indignation at the sight of sin. But they are none the less possessed of the finer sentiments which come to the surface only in the narrower circle of their families, in their relations to their fellow-sufferers. Not even the eloquent advocate of the people generally cares to enter that unfamiliar sphere as Perez has done. His affection for the meanest of his race is not merely platonic. He not only knows whereof he speaks: he feels it; and thus we get the saddest, the tenderest, the sweetest stories from the life of the lowliest of the Jews that have ever been written.

In 1894 Perez published a collective volume, 'Literature and Life,' which contains, like his periodical, mostly productions of his own. As they were composed at some later time than those spoken of above, and as they contain some matter in which he appears in a new rôle, we shall discuss the volume at some length. In the introduction are given his general aims, which are not different from those expressed in his former publication. The final words of it are: "We want the Jew to feel like a man, to take part in all that is human, to live and strive humanly, and if he is offended, to feel offended like a man!" The first sketch is entitled 'In the Basement.' It is the story of the incipient marital love of a young couple who are so poor that they live in a dark basement, in a room that serves as a dwelling for several families whose separate 'rooms' are divided off from each other only by thin, low partitions. The second is 'Bontsie Silent,' which is given in our Chrestomathy. It belongs to the same category of sketches as his 'The Messenger.' It presents, probably better than any other, the author's conception of the character of the virtues of the long-suffering masses. Who can read it without being moved to the depth of his heart? There is no exaggeration in it, no melodrama, nothing but the bitter reality. It expresses, in a more direct way than anything else he has written, his faith that the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to the lowly.