Book Review: Yiddish Civilisation

Yiddish Civilisation; The  Rise and Fall of a Forgotten Nation

By Paul Kriwaczek

Vintage Books, 357 Pages

Yiddish Civilisation by Paul Kriwaczek is not a new book (it was published in 2005), but I happened to spot it in a small independent bookstore two weeks ago, the first I’d ever seen or heard of it. What a lucky find. The book offers a running history of the formation and evolvement of Jews as a cultural group, starting from Classical times up to the very beginning of the twentieth century. What’s refreshing about the author’s take on this is that he chooses to focus on the periods of history when Judaism was a vibrant, successful, progressive society, who contributed significantly to the economic, intellectual, and communal growth of the societies they were part of. Instead of regurgitating the well-chronicled “lachrymose interpretation” (Salo Baron’s term, quoted by Paul Kriwaczek) of Jewish history, which mainly emphasizes all the travails of the Jews, most notably the Holocaust, Kriwaczek leads us back to the forgotten beginnings of this singular people. 

Though I wouldn’t call this book a light read, it is more accessible than typical scholarly books. Perhaps the reason is that Kriwaczek is not a scholar per se, meaning he doesn’t have the standard academic credentials (as far as I was able to ascertain) to establish him as a certified authority on the topic he writes about. According to the blurb on the book’s front page, his background is in film-making and journalism. However, instead of detracting from the book’s legitimacy, I believe it gives Kriwaczek an edge. He uses his journalistic experience to bring descriptions to life. With such charming alliterative phrases, such as “for seekers of sun, sea, sand and sex,” which describes the current holiday destination of the ancient Mediterranean coast of Turkey, the tone remains refreshingly light in face of the mass of heavy detail the book imparts.

The author calls this people a “Yiddish Civilisation.” The word Yiddish, however, is not meant to be defined as the language, but rather encompasses the Jewish culture as a whole. This is an interesting and quite clever classification, because it enables the author to present a broad umbrella under which is included nuanced, intricate historical and sociological details, all of which serve as part of this “Yiddish civilisation.”

In fact, it takes about four chapters of the book to get to the actual formation of a Yiddish civilization. Until then, these people were “Roman (or whichever empire they belonged to) citizens of Jewish faith.” According to Kriwaczek, it was the collapse of the Roman economic system—which forced Jews to become businessmen and money lenders—that turned them into a separate nationality: the Jews.

Kriwaczek challenges the stereotype of “Jewish greed,” explaining that high returns for loans were the inevitable consequence of an insecure financial environment. He also challenges the attitude, popular among many traditional Jews today, that the Jews always suffered more than their countrymen. He specifically emphasizes that despite prevalent anti-Jewish rioting, “early medieval Jews were not especially singled out for particularly barbaric treatment.”  

Once you get past the first third of the book, the material becomes a bit less original (most of the data is covered in other texts) though not less enjoyable. There’s a detailed section devoted to Glikl of Hamlin, whose Yiddish memoir is the first of its kind by a woman (as far as we know).  He also mentions another famous female writer, Litte of Ratisbon, who wrote the Shmuel Buch. And he gives some space to Rabbi Jacob ben Isaac Ashkenazi of Janow’s Taytch Chumesh, which was later renamed the Tseynareyna (from the Song of Solomon’s Z’enah u R’enah), a book that has been published in more than two hundred editions and is still in print today. In fact, along with several pieces of jewelry, the Z’enah U’renah is one of the traditional gifts Hasidic grooms purchase for their brides.

Kriwaczek covers the “Maimonidean controversy,” the dispute involving the Rambam’s teachings. He also includes Rabbi Moshe Isserles’ (Rema) contributions to the study of astronomy and Kabbalah. Kriwaczek points to the Cracow Jewish quarter's physical proximity to the Cracow Academy (where Copernicus was a student), a detail that explains the inevitability of the Yiddish civilization’s interest in the field of astronomy.    

In a chapter entitled, “The New Yiddish World,” Kriwaczek offers some fascinating tidbits on the Yiddish language. Although scholars such as Paul Wexler, Dovid Katz and Mordche Schaechter (among others) have already explored and recorded much of this information, the concise account in this book serves as a basic introduction to Yiddish language and literature for those who may not have the necessary background in this genre.

The book culminates with a description of the Yiddish literary revival within the Haskoleh movement. It includes details on various famous Yiddish novelists and poets. The last line of the book is a line from the Passover hagaddah: “All who are hungry, let them come and eat.” Indeed, this is an appropriate directive to readers: All who are hungry for knowledge of Jewish history, come and partake of this literary feast.