Wednesday, June 26, 2013

A rabbi, a priest and a minister walk into an audience with Napoleon...

Recently I was in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and I saw this portrait of Napoleon. Evidently, he enjoyed pageantry and symbolism.


































Here is an anecdote about the time the rabbi of Dusseldorf went to pay his respects to Napoleon. As you can see, the old rabbi was supported by a Catholic priest and a Protestant minister in, what the writer suspects, was a symbolic gesture for Napoleon's benefit:

































This incident occurred in 1811, and as the rabbi of Dusseldorf was, at the time, R. Judah Leib Scheur (d. 1821, age 87), then he must have been about 77 - not 100 as depicted here.

Using tefillin and a Roedelheim siddur to establish bona fides among a 'Lost Tribe' in China circa 1839. Allegedly.

Suppose you were trying to establish contact with a newly discovered colony of Jews deep in China, close to Tibet, in 1839. How would you establish a connection? By pulling out your Roedelheim siddur and putting on tefillin, obviously.

At least that's the story in what most certainly is a fake, but most interesting, letter printed in the Archives Israélites in 1868. Sent in by a man calling himself Jacob Elsaesser (of Alsace), it purports to be an account of the encounter just described. "Elsaesser" writes that in 1835 his friend Adolphe Stempfel, who had been studying to be a rabbi, fell on hard times. As a result he joined a British ship to Calcutta (in a time when many youths in similar circumstances were going to America, adds the Elsesser). During the time of the First Opium War the British discovered a community of Jews deep in China. Reports made it to Calcutta, and a wealthy Jewish merchant there sent Stempfel (you know, if he ever existed) to China to make contact with them. Elsaesser sent the Archives Israélites a letter purporting to be written by Stempfel back to his patron in Calcutta. It printed the letter in three parts. Here's an excerpt:











































In the first part, he describes a river that he thought may have been the Sambation. In this, the second part:
"Barely did I hear the cracking of the bamboo floors in the morning, when I put into action my plan. I got into the corner of my room and without saying a word I put on my phylacteries and opened a Rodelheim siddur. I wished you had been here to see this: my host seemed stunned, his face in a stupor. He fixated on my phylacteries and prayer book. He obviously did not expect to find a coreligionist in the garb of a Western barbarian. I enjoyed his surprise, until finally I smiled. He touched my phylacteries and addressed me, but I couldn't understand him. So I replied to him with feeling "Yehudi." He repeated the word and happily shook his head to indicate that he understood me. Unfortunately he could not reply to even the simplest Hebrew words that I addressed him with, which the most simple Alsatian Jew would have understood."
It continues, how the Chinese Jew fetched the rabbi, they exchanged "Schalem-Alechems" and had a very nice, spirited conversation in Hebrew. According to Stempfel, the rabbi said that they are descendants of the Ten Tribes of Israel carried into captivity, and that these Chinese Jews (=Israelites) are shepherds. Stempfel expressed surprise that they are not traders, and hilarity ensues.

Monday, June 24, 2013

The press coverage of the 'first Chasidic rebbe in America,' 1893

Rabbi Eliezer Chaim Rabinowitz, (1845-1916) of Jampol, progenitor of the Skolye Hasidic dynasty, and known as the 'first Hasidic rebbe in America' visited these shores in 1890.




































By 1893 he had a congregation of some kind in New York, where visitors petitioned him for prayers, advice and remedies. The New York Herald discovered this and sent a reporter (and an artist) to investigate. Not surprisingly, it portrayed him as a fraud. (Even if it is too long to capture your interest to read, scroll down to see the sketches and the facsimile of one of his handwritten remedies.)

My thanks to Azriel Graber for identifying the rebbe in this piece for me, as well as for his fascinating historical research and conversations I have had with him.

Here is the story, with a follow-up in the Herald, and reaction in the Jewish press to follow in a separate post:



























































Monday, June 17, 2013

A schoolmarmish interpretation of a verse about harlotry in 1650

I think this is highly amusing. 

First, the background: Plica polonica (Polish plait) was a strange hair disease that was common well into the 19th, and even the 20th century. Basically, it involved the tangling, "felting" of long, dirty hair, but it was much more than dreadlocks - the hairs themselves became engorged and filled with a kind of liquid or pus. According to medical descriptions, it emitted a foul odor. Doctors were divided as to whether it was a condition caused by poor hygiene, or something else, such as drinking foul water. As the name it was known by, "Polish plait," indicates, it was far more common in eastern Europe. Since hygiene was so poor all over Europe, that it was so common in Poland  would have seemed to indicate that there was something unique about Polish conditions - and it wasn't poor hygiene alone - that caused it. It was also observed to grow in animals in Poland, but not elsewhere.

In addition, there were superstitions attached to this condition. The people believed that a Plica was a supernatural phenomenon and the growth of one did not indicate a health problem, but on the contrary - it indicated the relief of a health problem. Growing one was lucky, it meant you had an illness but were getting better. The people who grew them did not want to cut them off, and since it was seen as having magical properties, people rubbed things into their hair - honey, dirt, etc. - to try to induce the formation of one. Although it became closely associated with Poland (and discussions of the Plica make appearances in rabbinic literature), and it could obviously be found wherever hygiene was lacking, there are apparent references to it even in Shakespeare, where it is called an elflock. In one issue of the Philosophical Transactions from 1746, there is an article about an English country woman born in 1645, and her Plica polonica, which she had grown beginning at age 14. So despite the stereotype, it could be found all over Europe. 

Thus, the background. In 1650 a clergyman named John Trapp published a commentary on the Book of Proverbs.



































Commenting on the verse in chapter 7, verse 10, "And, behold, there met him a woman with the attire of a harlot, and wily of heart." Trapp gives the following comment and mini-sermon:










Trapp means to explain the Hebrew for "attire of a harlot, the "שִׁית זוֹנָה." He explains that this is a kind of tightly fitted, plaited garment. He then cites the Latin of Lavater, referring to something plaited, which he glosses are pleated garments or plaited hair. This is "the attire of a harlot." But since in Latin "plaited" is "plica," since Lavater wrote "vestitus in quo plica," this reminds Trapp of the dreadful condition Plica polonica. This has nothing at all to do with the verse. But since he is talking about the attire of a harlot, a sinful way of dressing, since the word sounds the same, he cannot resist bringing this up:

"Let such take heed to the plica polonica; that dreadful disease."

This has nothing to do with anything, but it probably could strike revulsion and fear in the heart of the reader, just as Trapp intended.

I am reminded, and friends I showed this too are reminded, of various teachers who moralized in precisely this associative way. So here is John Trapp, teaching a verse in Proverbs, 350 years ago, the way I've been assured some teachers try to spread the value of tznius in contemporary schools.

Sunday, June 09, 2013

One of those unimpressed synagogue visitors, 1721

This page is an account of one English visitor to a synagogue in 1721. As you can see, he was bewildered by  the men keeping their hats on, no kneeling, calling out to get a pinch of snuff, worshipers coming in an hour, two and more late, the disharmony between some praying, some singing [prayers], and some talking of business.

Note the expression "he [who held the Torah] sat him down on his A----se with his Hat on his Head." "A----se" is, of course, "Arse." In 1721 the word was not yet the vulgarity it is today, (hence its use in a text like this), but was already emerging as an impolite word - hence the modest use of hyphens. In the prior century, in many texts the word was used normally and not considered particularly vulgar at all. But as David Crystal writes (The Story of English in 100 Words), as polite euphemisms for buttocks increased, primarily in the 18th century, the rudeness level of this word increased.



Tuesday, June 04, 2013

A group of New York Jewish merchants apply for Denizenship in 1712

This is the Application for Denizenship (I made that title up) to Queen Anne of Great Britain for Nathan Simpson and Samuel Levy, on behalf of themselves and Moses Levy, Moses Michalls [sic], Moses Hart and Mordica [sic] Nathan. The fellows were Jewish merchants in New York who "found themselves lye[ing] under many difficultys in their Trades as Merchants for want of being free Denizens," so they filed this petition.

Simson and Levy ask "that they may pertake of your Majestys Royall favour to be made Denizens of Great Britain and esteem'd as such..."

Included are several recommendations. For example, one Joseph Levy writes that they "are very well known to severall of the best Jews in London" and are "deserving of her Majestys favor."

Another is from Lord Cornbury, the Earl of Clarendon, the - I do not make this up - transvestite former governor of New York. He writes that the men "are Persons well-known to me, they are of the Jewish Nation and were (and I suppose still are) considerable traders in New York" - at the time he was governor - and they "behaved themselves as good Subjects ought to doe all which I most humbly certify."


לשנה הבאה בני חורין - A Haggadah for a Federal penitentiary

Here's some pages out of a most interesting Haggadah, or perhaps parts of a Passover program, produced for Jewish inmates at the federal prison in Fort Dix. Definitely worth a look.

I made the PDF, but the images come from here.


Monday, June 03, 2013

Ex-Kaiser Wilhelm on the Controversy Between Christianity and Judaism, 1926

Here's something interesting. An article - actually, compiled from a written correspondence - in English by the ex-Kaiser Wilhelm II. The topic: that the Jews simply won't accept the divinity of Jesus, and that is an unbridgeable gap. Note his written text (in English) on p. 5 (660), about Moses Mendelssohn.







Monday, May 27, 2013

Evidence regarding Michael Levi Rodkinson's level of English proficiency in 1901

Here is an instructive pair of letters to the American Hebrew which, I believe, give an idea about Michael Levi Rodkinson's English limitations. What had happened was a rabbi named J. Mayer Asher had lectured before a group called the Council of Jewish Women, on a topic he called The Ethics of Judaism. The lecture appears to have been a typical contrasting of Greek and Hebrew morals. Asher asserted that ethics are Greek, morals are Jewish, and the distinction is blah blah. He raised a Kantian idea regarding the relation of the moral to the physical; the inner and the outer world, i.e., nature, which is ruled by causality. A certain book had tried to understand how the fixed world outside of us can be changed to conform to moral law. But this, said Asher, was an idea that is alien to Judaism. Besides, he said, there is "no pure Hebrew word that means Nature. Nature is a purely Hellenic concept," reported the American Hebrew. The Jewish idea is that God rules the outer as well as the inner world, Nature is ruled by Him.

On this, Rodkinson pounced. Of course there is a Hebrew word for nature - teva. Now, Rodkinson probably realized that this was a medieval coinage, but he could point to its precursors, the tet-bet-ayin root, that mean "nature." The trouble is, in each instance Rodkinson explained the term "nature" in the sense of "the character of something" rather than "the collective phenomena of the physical world," which is plainly how Asher intended it. It is quite instructive to read how, in each instance, Rodkinson imaginatively explains Hebrew words derived from the root tet-bet-ayin to conform to the meaning "the character of something." For example, he explains the word matbea, coin, to have come from the meaning "the nature of this coin is, that it contains so and so many lesser coins." And so on.

It is perhaps true, of course, that the same relationship between nature in its various meanings of "the characteristic of" and its eventual secondary meaning as "the collective physical phenomena" (see here), was paralleled in Hebrew, where the root tet-bet-ayin came to produce the word for physical phenomena, his explanation of each of these terms as meaning "the characteristic of" is fanciful. And the American Hebrew responds as such, claiming that he misunderstood Asher's use of the word.

In the meantime, another rabbi responded and pointed out that there is a Hebrew word for nature - but that was hardly in dispute, as Asher was certainly aware of the medieval coinage (pun intended). However, the American Hebrew appends a note explaining that it received another letter from Rodkinson, where he denies that he misunderstood Asher. See for yourself - I think he did misunderstand Asher, and his explanation is weak, but you may disagree.

It appears to me that while his level of English - at least as of 1901 - wasn't quite as bad as people made it seem, he certainly was not fluent. What we see here, is that he did not grasp the multiple meanings of the word "nature." While he was aware that "nature" means the character of something, he mistook its meaning in article about the use of the term in the sense of the physical world.

American Hebrew May 3, 1901:

















































American Hebrew May 18, 1901:







Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Recalling the musical 'aptitude' of British Chief Rabbi Solomon Hirschell, and his attitude toward singing Kaddish to a tune from the opera Don Juan

Something about history which fascinates me is - time. The passage of time. And for this, reminiscences are important. There are many people who can tell you things about people and events which too place 80 years ago, and certainly 50 years ago (hopefully some of them are reading!). Talk to them, ask them. And then, you should live long, tell people yourself what you heard in 30 or 60 years from now - and just like that: someone gets to hear something close to a firsthand account that is almost one and a half centuries old. It may be 2013, but there are people who can still tell you all about people they knew who were born before Lincoln was elected president. 

Related to this: to me, in some ways, the 1870s don't seem that long ago. But the 1810s? Well, that's already getting remote. So I really enjoy reading things like the following, a reminiscence of Rabbi Solomon Hirschell (d. 1842), Chief Rabbi in London, which was published in the Jewish Messenger in 1873. 

True, much of it is about how Hirschell kind of had a lousy singing voice, but the descriptions of his preparations for leading the Ne'ilah prayer, the coaching by two singers, his booming and intense Shema, are fascinating. Also the anecdotes about how he barred the use of musical notes and a tuning fork - it had to be explained to him what a tuning fork was - and how one particularly zealous worshiper (a man of note) tattled to him, to say that the Chazan has used a piece from the opera Don Juan in singing Kaddish - and the attempts to explain to Hirschell what the opera Don Juan was, and that Don Juan was not a person who did not belong in shul - all interesting. "The synagogue is not an opera house," Hirschell concluded, not really caring in the end if Don Juan was a person or an opera.

Finally, the writer of this piece makes a contribution to the "rabbis becoming doctors" trope (often attributed to Milton Himmelfard, which I blogged about here: Sadly, the first part of the quote is illegible. But here is the rest of it: 
"In those [days]... those who held rabbinical offices. This may have arisen from the circumstances that then there was but little spiritual sickness in Israel, hence they wanted no Doctors, while now sluggishness and indifference have caused so much mental disease, as to require doctoring. Hence, I suppose, it occurs that the Rabbi has been superceded by the doctor."
I'm not precisely sure when "those days" were - but one imagines it could have been the 1810s, or perhaps early 1820s.

Here's Hirschel, roughly the same age as the Chasam Sofer, younger brother of Saul Berlin, of Besamim Rosh infamy:


And the article:





Tuesday, May 21, 2013

The Recent Mesorah of NakhScroll Publication; a guest post by Gabriel Wasserman

Thank you, Gabriel, for a fascinating post! - S.
For several years now, I have been doing research on the phenomenon of the writing of the books of Nakh -- Nevi'im and Kethuvim -- by scribes, on kosher scrolls. This research started as a hobby, but it became clear, about two years ago, that eventually I would have enough material for a book. In a shameless bit of self-promotion, I mention here that I'm going to be speaking about the topic at the World Congress of Jewish Studies this summer, and you are all invited to attend. (The lecture will be in Hebrew; I believe that entry is free of charge.)

By way of background: Although the books of Scripture were written this way in ancient times (Qumran Scrolls, anybody?), and in Talmudic times (see Bava Bathra 13b ff.), the practice disappeared in later times, with the adoption of the codex, a form of book that is more convenient with regard to searching. (The one famous exception, of course, is the Book of Esther.) We have a fragment of a scroll of Melakhim from the 8th or 9th century, and then nothing, until Early Modern posqim start to express their anxieties about the fact that we're Doin' Things Wrong.

Finally, R. Elijah the Gaon of Vilna decided, in late 1782 or early 1783, that he was going to hire an army of scribes, to write out all of Tanakh. The festive siyyum was on 7 Adar, 1783 (the traditional yortzait of Moses), and was attended by Solomon Dubno, who wrote up a whole pamphlet, in poetry and prose, inspired by the event, where he waxes philosophical about the matter. Here is a page from Birkhath Yosef, this pamphlet:








































In following years, the idea spread among various Litvaks, both in Lithuania and, later on, in Palestine. However, most of these Litvaks were interesting only in writing the 5 megilloth, for public reading in synagogue on the various holidays, and the Nevi'im, for use in public reading of the Haftaroth. Nonetheless, there were some exceedingly inspired individuals who wrote out scrolls of the not-usually-liturgical books of Nakh. This is mentioned in writings by R' Shemuel Shelomo Boyarski (link), who writes about the scrolls that he himself has written, and Akiva Yosef Schlesinger (link), who writes about the scrolls written by a certain Barukh Shelomo.

Her is the title page of Boyarski's Amudei Sheish:





































Moreover, I have held in my hands a scroll of Iyyov, written in 19th-century Lithuania or (most probably) Palestine, and a scroll of Divre Ha-yamim was sold at Kedem Auction House a few years ago (link). (It was sold for only $2000. If I had known at the time, I would have bid more than that. And now it's in private hands, and I can't even see it or access it. Grrr.) Moreover, Yossi Ofer has blogged about a scroll of Mishle that was found in the National Library of Israel earlier this year (link). He writes that this scroll was probably the very one written by Boyarski, because he knows of nobody else who was writing scrolls of Kethuvim (besides megilloth) at the time -- but in fact, the phenomenon was more widespread than just Boyarski.

In fact, here's a fascinating advertisement from 1912:
















































TORAH SCROLLS,
Neviim, Kesuvim, Megilles, Tefillin, Mezuzes, Atzei Chayyim, Rimmonim, Plates, Torah-Pointers, Battim, Parshiyes, Tefillin-straps, Megille-containers, mezuze-boxes, parchment
New and Used
Possible to Order in Jerusalem from the Adresse (אדריסה) listed Below
"Perfect"/"Plain" lettering [=Beis Yôsef, presumably], and Vellish lettering
small and large
written by reliable, expert scribes
Neviim (and Kesuvim): "Perfect"/"Plain" lettering, and Vellish lettering, small and large, written by reliable, expert scribes, with the פתוחות וסתומות וחסר ויתר written according to the "Keter" of Ben-Asher, and other reliable sources
Megilles: Small and large, "Perfect" lettering and Vellish lettering
11, 14, 42, and line, with or without boxes
Megille boxes: Of polished or sanded olive-wood, or of silver
Tefillin: Polished (=smooth), of one piece of leather, or one piece plus the מעברתא, Dakkes and Gasses, Rashi and Rabbeinu Tam
Battim: Square, Peshutim, of One Piece of Leather, or one piece plus the מעברתא, Dakkes and Gasses
Retzues: Wide or narrow, מעובד לשמן or Al Tenai
for Dakkes and Gasses
Mezuzes: Small or large,
"Perfect" lettering or Vellish lettering, with cases or without cases
Mezuze-cases: Made of olive-wood. Closed or open, round or rectangular.
Atzei Chayyim: of plain wood, or olive wood
simple, complex, or inset
with silver, with [צרף -- some cheaper form of silver??], or with bone
Rimmônim and Plates: Of silver or English Silver
(what's "English Silver"?)
Torah-pointers: Of silver, English Silver, or olive-wood
Parchment: Of all types
EVERYTHING IS MADE IN ERETZ YISROEL, BY JEWS
EVERYTHING WITH DILIGENCE AND PRECISION, AND GREATLY KOSHER
EVERYTHING IS CHECKED BY TWO CHECKERS
IT IS ALSO POSSIBLE TO FIND PRE-MADE STUFF
Addresse: Isaac Iacob Jellin Jerusalem Palestina [in Latin characters]

Especially interesting is that you can order Nakh scrolls in Vellish, i.e. Sephardic script! (The word "vell[i]sh" is a somewhat dismissive expression to refer to Sephardim, or speakers of Romance languages in general.) What Sephardim are ordering Nakh scrolls? (Weird Jerusalem ones, presumably.) Or, alternatively, what Ashkenazim in Jerusalem are using Vellish? The current Vellish script is more-or-less identical to the old medieval Ashkenazic script, but what Ashkenazim were still writing in it in the 19th century? Bohemian ones, apparently, but were there a lot of them in Jerusalem, and would they have been interested in the nouveau Litvishe shtick of writing Nakh-scrolls? Anyway, "Vellish" script is much easier to write than current Ashkenazic script, and therefore is significantly cheaper, as anyone who has shopped around for tefillin knows. Perhaps this is why a Litvak might want to order Nakh scrolls in Vellishe script?

(And note also that R' Chayim Volozhiner owned a scroll of Shir Ha-shirim in Vellishe script. How did it come into his possession? What Sephardim were writing Shir Ha-shirim on scrolls before or during the time of the Gaon? So many unanswered questions....)

This post deals only with the material culture aspect of the scrolls of Nakh, and does not deal with the halakhic or philosophical rationales behind why someone might want to produce them. Also, it does not deal with the question of how these scrolls might have been used, in ritual or non-ritual contexts. As such, it only scratches the surface of the issue, and there remains a whole book to be written about the topic. If any readers of this post know any information about any scrolls of Kethuvim (besides the megilloth) from the 18th, 19th, or 20th centuries, information that is not covered in this post, we will be delighted to hear from you in the comments, whether here or on Facebook.

***

Here is the ad, as it appeared in the original publication; Moria, November 20, 1912.

A 1929 appeal for easing the Slabodka Yeshiva's $50,000 deficit

From the American Israelite March 29, 1929. Note the very interesting remark that at times the Hildesheimer Seminary relied on support from Russian Jews, even though German Jews certainly could have sustained all its economic needs. Also, the author of this appeal, frames the support for the yeshiva as a debt which American Jews owe to it, having received much spiritual sustenance from the alumni of the European yeshivas.





Monday, May 20, 2013

Mrs. Julian Nathan's meeting with R. Chaim Leib Auerbach in 1922

This is excerpted from Mrs. Julian Nathan's two-part article "A Woman's Impressions of Palestine," which appeared in the American Hebrew on Dec. 15 and 22, 1922. This being 1922, unfortunately Mrs. Julian Nathan's own first name is not supplied. The Miss Landau to which she refers is Annie Edith Landau. She describes her meeting with Rabbi Chaim Leib Auerbach, R. Shlomo Zalman's father. Since she refers to her "father's book "Tub Taam," I assume she was R. Aharon Zvi Friedman's daughter, although I suppose there may be other works by that name and thus other possible candidates.

Note that she says that Rabbi Auerbach predicted that in 80 years the exile would be over. And read the rest.


Israel Davidson, a 19th century Hebrew translation of "Yankee Doodle" and Michael Rodkinson's lack of English

Here's part of a great exchange in the pages of the American Hebrew in 1899, notably because one protagonist was a young Israel Davidson, and the other's rejoinder included a pretty amusing Hebrew translation of Yankee Doodle.

What had happened was, Jacob Goldstein (1855-19? well, he was alive and a chaplain in the US army in 1918), an English-born, Australia-raised rabbi in Newark, and also a one-time editor of the American Hebrew, had written a review of Menachem Mendel Dolitsky's book of Hebrew verse Kol Shirei Menachem.... In the review, Goldstein made several unpardonable sins. For example, he had not read each and every poem carefully, and treated one, a piyyut for Yom Kippur, that was actually satire, as if it were the real thing. Secondly, he wrote something about rhymes in Hebrew that Davidson considered to be an error. Thirdly, he approved of the poems being published with nikkud, making it useful to a student of Hebrew who, with the aid of a dictionary, will be able to enjoy the book. Here Davidson takes a really low blow and says that Goldstein personally needs the vowel points and a dictionary, i.e., he is a novice in Hebrew! 

Davidson is merely reiterating a sarcastic point he made early in the letter, claiming that "Hebrew is the most difficult language to acquire at a mature age, [so] if a man, old enough to write such a facile English as the reviewer does, begins to study Hebrew and in a short time presume to judge of the character of a Hebrew poem from the title [Piyyut Le-yom Ha-kippurim], he must indeed be a phenomenal being. Nay, it occurs to me just now, that we should regard one with awe, who attempted to divine the meaning of any kind of poem without first reading it." As you can see, he also criticized Goldstein's English - something that seems to have been something of a past-time among the scholarly immigrant crowd in those days. By the end - it seems to have passed sarcasm, and Davidson seems to believe that Goldstein doesn't know what he is talking about.

Israel Davidson, of course, knew a thing or two about Hebrew poetry, going on to compile the magnificent and still amazing Thesaurus of Hebrew Poetry/ Otzar Ha-shirah ve-ha-Piyyut. But he was young, and got carried away with sarcasm.


























Goldstein rejoindered that Davidson is correct that he is guilty of not reading the book carefully, as far as that goes, although he said so in the review itself, that he was asked to write a "notice" not a review, of the book. But he takes serious issue with the other criticisms, correctly taking him to task for his nasty (and ungrounded) assertion that he is a Hebrew beginner. Finally, his response to Davidson's critique about rhymes is to print a few lines of his poem Yanki Dudel Ba Le-ir.














































Incidentally, parts of these letters concern the Rodkinson Talmud, Goldstein having written critically of it the week before (Davidson approves, calling Goldstein's review a "eulogy"). Goldstein's letter is actually a response to Rodkinson's displeasure with the review. Since there is a current post at the Seforim Blog by Marvin J. Heller on the Rodkinson Talmud - link - I thought it worthwhile to post a comment made by Goldstein in the present letter. Rodkinson had charged that Goldstein only knows the Talmud "from an English translation"! Here is part of Goldstein's rejoinder:
It would be impudent for me to undertake a "new critical edition of the Talmud" because I have not the necessary equipment for the task. It is just as improper for Mr. Rodkinson to undertake a translation into English - simply because he does not know English. (emph. in the original.)
Finally, since Heller wrote concerning Rodkinson's surname as follows -
He was born to a distinguished Hasidic family; his father was Sender (Alexander) Frumkin (1799-1876) of Shklov, his mother, Radka Hayyah Horowitz (1802-47). Radka died when Rodkinson was an infant, and he later changed his surname from Frumkin to Rodkinson, that is, Radka’s son.
- I thought it would be fitting to post something that by coincidence I had come across a couple of days ago: Rodkinson himself gave his story of his surname in the pages of the American Hebrew (Nov. 13, 1903. Here it is, for posterity:
"...my father's name was Alexander Frumesch (see Toldath Besht, p. XXXVI), after his father, that grand man, Nacheur [sic?] Frumesch, and only his sons adopted the name Frumkin, for they were so called by the people. My name Rodkinson, after my mother, Rodke, who died one year after my birth, was given to me in childhood to save me from military duty, as was also done to my brother, Leib Hirsch, who lives in Jerusalem. In spite of this, being in Russia, we used to sign in private our renowned family name, "Frumkin."  
I, however, used to add my mother's name in private letters as well as in my publications, which can be proven by my books, published previously to 1876, when I emigrated to Konigsberg, Prussia." 
In the aforementioned "Toldath" he writes his grandfather's name as follows: מנחם נחום פרומעש משקלאוו. And he also gives his mother's name as: ראדא חאסיא.

Sunday, May 19, 2013

A 1903 critique of the RJJ yeshiva's dual Torah and Madda curriculum

Here's a fascinating editorial note in the Nov 27, 1903 issue of the American Hebrew. As you can see, it opposes one element of the appeal for funds for a larger building needed by the Rabbi Jacob Joseph Yeshiva, then very new: that the yeshiva provides secular education under the same roof as its religious education. This is in effect the very critique most often leveled from the right at the Torah U-madda idea of Yeshiva University, albeit here the argument is very different - it desires the secular education to take place in public schools as anything less is incompatible with democractic ideals.


A 'Conservative,' Reform, and Orthodox rabbi (so to speak*) on the possibility of teaching old school piety and Torah scholarship in America in the late 19th century

Here's an interesting part of Gotthard Deutsch's obituary for David Rosin in the American Hebrew (Jan. 22, 1895). Rosin taught in the Breslau Rabbinical Seminary established by Zechariah Frankel, and is best known for his edition of the Rashbam's commentary to the Torah. To give some context to the Deutsch's remarks below, in the same article Deutsch cites an alleged quote by Samson Raphael Hirsch, that the Right and Left sides of the street are for men, the middle of the road is for horses. 

As you can see, Deutsch, an American Reform rabbi, had maintained that it was impossible to "restore the old Jewish piety with its ideal of conforming to the law" - halacha. Not that Deutsch wanted to, mind you. Rosin, however, strenuously objected that this was "a policy of despair" and that individuals could be brought to strict observant, even if this could not work on a communal level.





















Deutsch, incidentally, wrote the following in September of 1905: 
"Our women will not submit to the "Sheitel:" our men will not banish ghosts by Cabbala: our boys and girls will read novels in spite of Joseph Caro, etc."
And he continued to say that across the spectrum, what needed to be fought was indifference.

Since we are talking about religious Jewish life in America at the turn of the 20th century, it would be interesting to produce a page from a book that was first called attention to the world by Mendel Silber in his 1916 article "America in Hebrew Literature." The book, published by R. Chaim Shlomo Silbermann in Jerusalem (1899; not 1859 as per Silber) is called Or Yaakov, and the bulk consists of various unpublished commentaries by the Vilna Gaon, for example, there is a piece explaining the aggadot of Rabbah bar bar Hannah. 

Appended to the end are two pages of a bar mitzvah derasha given by Silbermann's nephew, Yitzhak. The reason why this was important, says Silbermann, is that the boy, whom he is exceedingly proud of, grew up in Hazleton, Pennsylvania. When he received the text of the derashah it was to him like the day the Torah was given at Sinai. This boy is a "tzaddik ben tzaddik" - the boy's father was an alumnus of Volozhin; a student of R. Hirsch Leib (=the Neziv) - Silbermann gives two examples of the lad's boyish piety: he answered "amen" at age 4, and would not eat without making a berachah at age 7 or 8. And there is the derashah itself, which shows that it is possible to raise a ben Torah in America. Most interesting is his dichotomy between raising a child to learn Torah and teaching a child parnassah ke-minhag America.









































* The reason I wrote "so to speak" about these rabbis is because, technically, only Gotthard Deutsch was a practicing rabbi. The others were scholars, one affiliated with an institution (the Breslau Seminary) and the other, apparently, an independent talmid chochom. However, for the purpose of that snappy, snappy title - these were all three learned Jews, each with a vision about the apathy and unlearnedness of Jews of their time, and the potential for restoration.

Monday, May 13, 2013

Turkish censors of Armenian Bible, remove the tale of Joseph "out of consideration for Mrs. Potiphar," in 1893

This fascinating article is from the NY Herald, 1893. It must be noted - since not everyone reads to the end - that on protest by the British, the Grand Vizier reversed the order.


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