Triangles of History and the Slippery Slope of Jewish American Identity in Two Stories by

Cynthia Ozick
Author(s): Janet L. Cooper
Source: MELUS, Vol. 25, No. 1, Jewish American Literature (Spring, 2000), pp. 181-195
Published by: The Society for the Study of the Multi-Ethnic Literature of the United States
(MELUS)
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Triangles of History and the Slippery
Slope of Jewish American Identity in Two
Stories by Cynthia Ozick
Janet L. Cooper
PennsylvaniaState University

Cynthia Ozick's fiction is filled with charactersin a state of

identity crisis: "paganrabbis,"Holocaust survivors, and frustrated
artists who are struggling against the continual pressure of being
Jewish in a hostile Christian environment. Not only do these
characters stumble through America like "inevitable exiles"
(Kielsky 23), but they are extremely conscious of their struggle
and think a great deal about who they are in relation to those
around them (Walden 2). Therefore, it is virtually impossible to
read one of Ozick's texts without thinking a great deal about
Jewish Americanidentity.
Ozick's message, however, often is not clear; her texts are
tightly condensed and often difficult, especially for the non-Jewish
reader. Rather than mitigating the complexity of her fiction,
Ozick's impressive volumes of essays further complicate the
reader'sunderstandingof her message. If one believes that Ozick's
characterssuffer from crises of identitybecause they are Jewish, it
seems logical to browse Ozick's essays in search of what she
believes to be the key elements of Jewishness, but one will again
find the consummate artist challenging her readers. At various
points, Ozick defines Jewishness as originating in the covenant
(Art and Ardor 123), history, the avoidance of idolatry,the ability
to make distinctions, and study (Metaphorand Memory224). This
is by no means an exhaustive list, but it demonstratesthat Ozick
avoids essentializing Jewish identity and posits the meaning of
such an identityoutside of one concrete, stable definition.
One of Ozick's most straightforward,yet most profound state-
ments regardingJewish identityindicateswhere a fruitfulexamina-
tion of this identity lies. "To be a Jew," she asserts, "is to be old in
history"(Metaphorand Memory224). According to Paul Mendes-
MELUS,Volume 25, Number 1 (Spring 2000)
182 JANET L. COOPER

Flohr in ContemporaryJewish Thought,a historicalconsciousness

transmitstraditions,rituals, and legends throughgenerations(378)
so that they may inform the present and the future. Such a defini-
tion of history indicates both the collective memory and the
common ancestryof Jewish people, such as traditionspassed down
throughcenturiesof Judaismand experiences of diasporaand exile
due to persecution.On a familial, communal,or nationallevel, this
concept of history may also include memories of immigratingto
America and growing up Jewish in an unfamiliaror hostile Chris-
tian environment.This lens of history encompasses the divergence
of experiences that Jewish people have had in America, and yet
calls into simultaneousplay many elements that Ozick and literary
scholars such as Leon Yudkin and Victor Strandberghave pin-
pointed as the foundationof Jewishness.
Identity, or a sense of self constructedthrough forces, institu-
tions, and structures,however, is not created by a simple integra-
tion of the stories or collective and familial histories passed down
by others. "To own a future is not only to redeem the past," states
Elaine Kauvar, "[but] to judge its meaning" (xii). One creates
himself or herself when he or she makes sense of the past and then,
according to Peter Kerry Powers, brings that past into a living
relationshipwith the present(90) in orderto informthe presentand
the future. I would extend Kauvar's and Powers' arguments to
assert that history is not only judged by each individual, but
reinvented and reconstructed by each individual as he or she
selectively attends to details and carefully revises the historical
narratives of others from his or her particularviewpoint. Each
person then accommodates this invented history into his or her
own consciousness or identity. A fruitful examination of the
identities of Ozick's characterslies in their struggle to reinvent
history and not in any consistent or unchanging definition of
Jewishness.
Two excellent examples of texts by Ozick in which the main
charactersstruggle to achieve self-knowledge through a reinven-
tion of history are "The Pagan Rabbi" and "Envy; or, Yiddish in
America." Predictably, Ozick has not made this examination a
straightforwardone for the reader;he or she must strugglejust as
the charactersdo. According to Kauvar, Ozick "scrutinize[s]her
[own] ideas from disparate angles" so that there is an "ongoing
HISTORYAND IDENTITYIN OZICK 183

dialectic" regarding both history and identity (xiii). Sanford

Pinsker expands this dialectic to a dialogic and describes the
process that leads the readerto understandEdelshtein's identity in
"Envy; or, Yiddish in America" as a triangle; Ozick creates three
characterswho carry Ozick's message between them (45). "The
PaganRabbi"has a similarstructure.
By combining Pinsker's concept of the triangle with Kauvar's
insistence on the importance of history, I will demonstratethat
meaning is most effectively derived from "The Pagan Rabbi"and
"Envy; or, Yiddish in America" through a construction of the
identities of the protagonists.This constructionis accomplishedby
an analysis of the discourses of the three main charactersof each
story and a synthesis of these three viewpoints into a complex and
coherentwhole. This process is challenging for the readerbecause
all three characterswho make up these trianglesare both telling the
truthand completely off the mark;all three are both attractiveand
repulsive (Pinsker47). In each story, the two supportinglegs of the
triangle cause the main characterto rethink his construction of
history and have a large impact on his identity. It is up to the
reader to decide which parts of each triangle's legs' discourse is
useful and relevant and then to combine these parts to inform the
identity formationof the main characterand ultimately the mean-
ing of the story.
The title of "The Pagan Rabbi"reveals the primarytensions of
the story, the divisions between holy and pagan, natureand study,
Pan and Moses. The conflicting appeal of Pan and Moses is also a
centraltheme of Ozick's first novel Trust.In Trust,the narratoris
torn between her pleasure seeking, sensual biological father Nick
and her deeply Judaic and learned step-fatherEnock (Lowin 44).
The narrator'sstruggle between Pan and Moses is a brief one; she
sloughs off her interest in Pan to live "within the Jewish ideal"
(Cohen 36). Ozick returns to the Pan versus Moses theme and
complicates it in "The Pagan Rabbi." Rabbi Korfeld, a famous
author of "remarkable"collections of responsa and Professor of
Mishnaic History, finds himself inextricably drawn to nature, a
practice typically denouncedas "Idolatry"in JudaicLaw. Komfeld
finds that he cannot choose between Pan and Moses without losing
crucial parts of himself. He therefore attempts to reconstruct
biblical history so that Pan and Moses are not mutuallyexclusive.
184 JANET L. COOPER

Komfeld insists that, "It is false history, false philosophy, and

false religion which declare to us human ones that we live among
Things. ... There is nothing that is Dead. . . . Hence in God's
fecundatingCreationthere is no possibility of Idolatry,and there-
fore no possibility of committingthis so-called abomination"(20-
21). These statements exhibit Komfeld's conclusion that the
second commandment, which requires that Jews shun idols, is
misleading. Komfeld is also stronglyattractedto the idea of a free
soul and is anguishedby the fact that men are "burdened"by being
"chained"to their souls. He reconstructsbiblical historyto explain
the origin of the rootedness of men's souls and the false com-
mandment against Idolatry: "It was not out of ignorance that
Moses failed to teach about those souls that are free. . . . [He
knew] our ancestors.. .would not have abandonedtheir slavery in
Egypt had they been taught of the free souls.... ThereforeMoses
never spoke to them of the free souls, lest the people not do God's
will and go out from Egypt"(22-3). After convincing himself that
he has accuratelyreconstructedbiblical history and declaring that
"the condition of men is evil and unjust" (22), Komfeld desper-
ately tries to free his own soul by communingwith nature,confi-
dent that "if only I could couple with one of the free souls, the
strength of the connection would likely wrest my own soul from
my body ... to its own freedom"(28).
It is clear the Komfeld, torturedby the conflict between his
faith and his love for nature, has attempted to choose a path
between the two by breakingapartthe binarythat divides them and
creating an intermediaryspace. In this intermediaryspace, faith
and natureare not mutuallyexclusive, but mutual in their nourish-
ment of the individual. Komfeld successfully couples with the
dryad Iripomonoeia, and experiences "marvels, blisses, and
transportsno man has slaked himself with since Father Adam
pressed out the forbidden chlorophyll of Eden" (32). His story,
however, is to have an unhappyending. His soul, greedyto possess
Iripomonoeia,escapes his body by attachingitself to her. However,
Komfeld is horrified by the sight of his nature-spuming,Torah-
reading soul, who shows him that he cannot worship both nature
and the word; he must choose one or the other. Moreover,because
of Komfeld's successful attemptto separatehimself from his soul,
he will lie in his grave alone and his soul will forever "walk here
HISTORYAND IDENTITYIN OZICK 185

alone... in my garden"(36). Distraught,Komfeld commits suicide

by hanging himself from a tree with his prayer shawl. Ironically,
nature and religion have joined to take him from this world and
into the next.
The reader learns this information, which occurs before the
narrative time of the story, through Komfeld's suicide letter.
However, Ozick creates a triangularnarrativestructurein which
the narratorof the tale readsmost of this letteraloud as both he and
Komfeld's widow comment on its content. The reader can con-
struct Komfeld's identity only by combining parts of each charac-
ters' assertionsregardinghistory,both biblical historyand personal
history prior to the narrativetime of the story, into a coherent
whole.
Sheindel, Komfeld's orthodoxand uncompromisingwidow, has
a very different interpretationof Komfeld's actions than either of
the other legs of this triangle. In her opinion, Judaic biblical laws
and tradition are sacred and unchangeable, and Komfeld's pre-
sumptuousnessin altering them makes him a pagan. Her concrete
and unwavering declarations provide a foil for her husband's
quavering and uncertain struggle to integrate both Hellenic and
Hebraic parts of his identity. A symbol of Sheindel's black and
white approachto life is a fence. Sheindel wears the mark of a
fence on her face; she was born in a concentrationcamp, and an SS
guard attempted to kill her by hurling her against an electrified
fence. Inexplicably, the current vanished from the fence at this
moment and Sheindel was saved. She interpretsJewish law as a
fence as well (Lyons 19), one that protects by clearly distinguish-
ing between what belongs within and what should be kept without.
In Sheindel's mind, the most damning aspect of Rabbi Komfeld's
struggle to integrate nature and the sacred is that "he scaled the
Fence of the Law" (24), a fence that has both saved her life and
given it coherence and meaning. Komfeld's act of scaling the
fence, according to Sheindel, can only lead him to join what lies
beyond it; accordingto her, one is eitherJew or pagan.
Although some readers may discount Sheindel's viewpoint
because of her pitiless contempt for her deceased husband,Ozick
supportsSheindel's points by highlightingthat she has a long line
of religious textual history behind her. The epigraphto the story,
which asserts that one who worships nature "hurt[s] his own
186 JANETL. COOPER

being," is an excerpt from The Ethics of the Fathers, a text sup-

ported by hundredsof years of religious traditionand the Torah.
This excerpt establishes the importance of religious study, and
asserts that anything that disrupts or detracts from that study is
forbidden. Sheindel possesses the ability to distinguish clearly
between what is Jewish and what is not because herjudgments are
informedby religious texts and traditions.
The unnamednarratorof the story interpretsKorfeld's search
in an entirely different manner. He and Komfeld grew up as
friends and went to seminary together;both of their fathers were
rabbis. The narrator,however, became an atheist and married
outside the Jewish faith. These events give the narratora complex
positionality.Although he is no longer a believer, he spent several
years in a rabbinical seminary and is very knowledgeable about
Jewish religion and law. This inside/outside position makes the
narrator'sinterpretationof Komfeld's questioning of the sacred
very different from Sheindel's. Whereas Sheindel judges Kom-
feld's reinterpretationof Moses as sinful, the narratorexclaims,
"The man was a genius" (23). The narrator,when faced with doubt
about his religion, relinquishedhis religion and became an atheist;
he respects Komfeld's struggle to reconcile nature and religion
instead of abandoninghis faith. In other words, while the narrator
has crossed the "fence" of Judaism to stand firmly on the other
side, Komfeld has struggledto perch himself precariouslyatop the
fence with a leg on either side; to the narrator,such a struggle is
admirableand demonstratesa deeply religious identity,not a pagan
one.
While all Sheindel feels for her husbandafterhis death is scorn,
the narratorstates, "Pityhim" (37). Accordingto Vera Kielsky, the
second commandment, which warns against idols and which
Kornfeld has "proven"false, also makes a case for pity as "the
fundamenton which the Mosaic idea stands"(206). Therefore,in
denying pity for her husband,Sheindel is not following the second
commandment;like Komfeld, she is outside of Judaic law in her
refusal to adhereto the second commandment.The narratorreveals
that he recognizes Sheindel's disobedience when he declares,
"only the pitiless [implying her] are illusory" (37). The narrator
launches his final attack on Sheindel's feelings of smug spiritual
superioritywhen he commands, "Your husband's soul is in that
HISTORYAND IDENTITYIN OZICK 187

park. Consult it" (37). The narratorviews Komfeld's struggle as

admirable,exceptional, and even heroic, and his fall as worthy of
pity. As an insider/outsiderto the faith, the narratorinterprets
Komfeld's pursuits as both intellectually ambitious and informed
by faith, and thereforenot sacrilegious.Insteadof concentratingon
the scandal of Komfeld's story, the narratorfocuses on the pain
that Komfeld's strugglecaused him.
One place for the readerto begin interrogatingthe discourses of
the major charactersin an effort to discern which elements will be
useful in the constructionof Komfeld's identity is by isolating the
elements that make Komfeld Jewish. In many ways, Komfeld's
reinvention of biblical history makes him more, and not less,
Hebraic. According to Ruth Wisse, the midrashicmode of Jewish
scholarship is concerned with providing a new reading for a
familiar story (42). Komfeld is never more within this tradition
than when he is reinventing the story of Moses. Additionally,
Kauvarasserts that Komfeld's lettertakes the form of a "responsa"
by both its reasoning and style (44). Komfeld is not turning his
back on his religion, but using the form and style of the midrashic
traditionto create a new tradition,one in which loving naturewill
not be a "hurt[against]his own being."Komfeld's enterpriseis not
to debunk religion, but to find a place within religion where he is
comfortableto love both God and nature.
There are, however, definitely pagan elements in Korfeld's
reinventionof history.According to Ozick, a majorstandardof the
Jewish idea is the second commandmentor the avoidance of idols
(Metaphorand Memory224). This is a standardthat distinguishes
Jews from all other people. By asserting that the second com-
mandmentis false and by embracingnature,which is identified as
an idol in the epigraphfrom The Ethics of the Fathers, Komfeld is
clearly disengaging himself from Hebraic practice. Furthermore,
his lust for naturecauses him to remain in the park until dawn for
months, thus causing him to neglect his responsibilities to his
synagogue and his family. His suicide can be interpretedas the
height of his selfishness; what will happen to his wife and seven
children? His rejection of Hebraism is also dramatized in his
confrontationwith his soul. When his stereotypicallyJewish soul
asserts, "the smell of Law is more radiantthan moss. The taste of
the Law exceeds clear water,"Korfeld exclaims, "It is not mine!
188 JANET L. COOPER

I will not have it be mine!" (36). He clearly rejects traditionally

Jewish aspects of himself.
The narrator'sposition inside/outside the Jewish faith causes
him to attemptto insert an intermediaryspace between the binaric
divisions of Jew and pagan. The narratorjudges Komfeld as a
brilliantintellectualwhose only sin was to reach too far beyond his
grasp. Komfeld's last act is to call to his naturedryad, for whom
he has forsakenhis soul, for assistance. His cries fall on deaf ears.
In an effort to integratethe sacredwith nature,Komfeld loses both.
He is, according to the narrator,a pathetic figure, deserving of
compassion and pity.
All three sides have their points; all are telling partsof the truth.
At this point, one could assume that the readeris left to agree with
the characterthat he or she finds most sympathetic or credible.
However, the ending of the story prevents such a solution. When
the narratorfirst meets with Sheindel to discuss Komfeld's death,
she tells him she disposed of the plants in her house: "I couldn't
sleep in the same space with plants. They are like little trees"(15).
The reader can infer that the trees remind her of what led her
husbandto his downfall; without his love of nature,he could have
remaineda model rabbi,husband,and father.
Although by the end of the story the narratorseems to disagree
completely with Sheindel's assessment of Komfeld, the last
paragraphof the story reveals, "I rememberedher [Sheindel's]
earlier words and dropped three green house plants down the
toilet." Why does the narratorreplicate Sheindel's action? He
continues, "after a journey of some miles through conduits they
straightwayenteredTrilham'sInlet,"the site of Komfeld's suicide,
"where they decayed amid the civic excrement" (37). Why does
the narratorabhor the trees? Do they signify the loss of a great
mind? The impossibility of satisfactorily mediating the conflict
between Hebraismand Hellenism?
Although Sheindel and the narratordispose of their plants for
different reasons, this action holds the key to understandingthis
story and Komfeld's character.For both Sheindel and the narrator,
the plants are a reminderof Komfeld's failure. More specifically,
they symbolize Komfeld's failure to break down the binary
between pagan and Jew and place himself between it. The reader,
however, must break down this binary in his or her assessment of
HISTORYAND IDENTITYIN OZICK 189

Komfeld's identity. Komfeld was neitherpagan nor Jew, but both.

He was neither selfish nor heroic, but both. It is in his struggle for
identity where the truth of this story lies, and the houseplants
symbolize this struggle. Although Sheindel and the narratormourn
different aspects of their loss (Sheindel the loss of a model rabbi,
husband, and father, the narratora loss of a great mind), the real
pathos of the story is caused by the pictureof a man who could not
reconcile himself to the binaries his society placed on him. Kom-
feld attempted to mitigate the discomfort he experienced within
these binaries by rewriting biblical history, only to discover that
his successful efforts to separatehis body and soul produceda soul
that he neither expected nor accepted. Therefore,he chose to take
his own life. It is only througha critical examinationof the view-
points of all three charactersin this story that a complex under-
standingof Komfeld can be reached.
"Envy; or, Yiddish in America," also utilizes the triangular
structureto encouragethe readerto constructa complex version of
Jewish American identity,yet the readermay find the construction
of Edelshtein's identity even more difficult than that of Komfeld.
Not only are all three charactersthat make up the discourse trian-
gle in "Envy; or, Yiddish in America" unattractive,but none of
them communicate their identities in a consistent manner. All of
their identities are shifting due to a strugglebetween collective and
personal history, which makes the reader's task of interpreting
their discoursesmore difficult.
The main characterof the story is Edelshtein, a Jewish Ameri-
can poet who writes in Yiddish and is frustratedby his anonymity.
He asserts that his goal is to save Yiddish, which has been de-
stroyed by the Holocaust: "a language that never had a territory
except Jewish mouths, and half the Jewish mouths on earthalready
stopped up with German worms" (74). He warns all who will
listen, "whoever forgets Yiddish courts amnesia of history" (74).
As critic Vera Kielsky asserts, Yiddish is not only a language,but
symbolizes the bond between Jewish people, is the location of
Jewish culture,and is the "storehouse"of history (154). Edelshtein
quotes the Talmud to reinforce the importance of Yiddish to
Jewish identity in America: "in Talmud if you save a life it's as if
you saved the world." He continues, self-indulgently,"And if you
190 JANET L. COOPER

save a language? Worlds maybe. Galaxies. The whole universe"

(83).
These assertionsmay, on the surface, lead the readerto believe
that Edelshtein is sincere and selfless in his effort to resurrect
Yiddish, and by extension, Jewish history and culture. His use of
Jewish history, however, makes him feel superior to other Jews
ratherthan creating a bond of memory and connection with them
(Powers 91). Futhermore,Edelshtein's solution to his problem
reveals his hypocrisy; he wants to procure an interpreter.Obvi-
ously, translatinghis poetry into English will do nothing to save
Yiddish, but it will, he believes, rescue him from obscurity. At
heart,Edelshteinis languishingfrom envy of Ostrover,the Yiddish
writer who is translatedinto English and enjoys immense fame.
Edelshtein's only venue for his poetry is an obscure Yiddish
periodical edited by his friend Baumzweig called Bitterer Yam,'
while Ostrover is the subject of graduatedissertationsand gives
densely attendedreadingsto adoringfans.
Edelshteinattendsone such readingwhere Ostroverreads a new
story that is a thinly disguised parable about Edelshtein. In the
story, the main charactergives one fourth of his soul to Satan to
learn a new language that will guarantee his fame as a writer.
However, this new language does not achieve the desired effect,
and the writer makes the same bargain for anotherlanguage, and
then another, and then another.As a result, he loses his soul and
arrivesin hell where he must toss each page he writes into flames,
but he declares, "No difference, no difference! It was the same up
there!" (60). Ostrover's point is that it is Edelshtein's lack of
talent, and not his lack of access to English, that causes his lack of
fame.
Edelshtein is enraged by the story, and spends the rest of the
evening railing at all who will listen. He blindly flees the reading,
only to have an angry altercationwith Paula Baumzweig, the wife
of his friend and editor. Although he self-righteouslyinsists in his
anger that "Ostrover wanted to save only himself, Edelshtein
wanted to save Yiddish,"Edelshteincannot fool even himself; it is
envy over Ostrover's success, and not a sense of duty to Yiddish,
that causes much of his anguish. It becomes even clearer that
Edelshtein is not a sincere advocate for Yiddish when he takes an
honest look at himself. Ozick dramatizes this self-realization
HISTORYAND IDENTITYIN OZICK 191

through the metaphor of a mirrorthrough which Edelshtein sees

himself as others do: "an old man crying, dragginga striped scarf
like a prayer shawl" (67). This insight disturbshim so thoroughly
that in despair, he "wishe[s] he had been born a Gentile" (68).
Edelshtein, although he adopts a "Jewisher-than-thou"exterior,
would forsakehis Jewish identityfor fame and positive regard.
Immediately after he makes this wish into the mirror, Ozick
presents a dialogue between Ostrover and Edelshtein. In Edel-
shtein's rage following Ostrover's reading, Ozick presents the
readerwith several conversationsbetween Edelshteinand others in
the form of drama dialogue and several letters composed by
Edelshteinthat may or may not have been sent. Due to the multiple
forms presented in this section of the short story and Edelshtein's
obviously perturbedmental state, it is not clear whether his con-
versation with Ostrover actually occurred or is merely imagined.
Nonetheless, this dialogue provides the readerwith most of Ostro-
ver's leg of the discourse triangle;even if Edelshteinimaginedthis
conversation, Ostrover's words impact how Edelshtein sees
Ostrover,and ultimatelyhow he sees himself.2
During this dialogue, it is never quite clear to the readerwho or
what Ostroveris. Ostrovermakes several contradictorystatements
that confuse the readerwho is trying to constructhis identity. He
asserts, "I'm one of them" (68), "I'm only a make-believe Gen-
tile," and "I play at a Jew to satisfy them" (69). In the first line, it
appearsthat Ostroveris aligning himself with the Gentiles. In the
second, althoughhe admits that he dons the exteriorof a Gentile in
a "make-believe"game, it seems clear that inside, he identifies
himself as a Jew. In the third quote, the meaning is more complex.
In acting the part of a Jew "to satisfy them," Ostrover could
internally identify as either Gentile or Jew. The satisfaction of
anothergroup does not necessarily impinge on Ostrover's identity.
However, he never identifies who "them" is. Is it the Gentile
community,or the Jewish one?
Ostrover's troubling parable further complicates his identity:
"In my village when I was a boy they used to bring in a dancing
bear for the carnival, and everyone said, 'It's human!'-They said
this because they knew it was a bear, though it stood on two legs
and waltzed. But it was a bear" (69). Who is Ostrover,a Gentile
who plays at being a Jew or a dancing bear of a Jew who plays at
192 JANETL. COOPER

being a Gentile? Is the show independentof how Ostrover sees

himself, or are the two intimately entangled?Although it is clear
that Ostrover accurately interpretsEdelshtein's hypocrisy in the
line, "envy sounds the same in all languages" (83), Ostrover's
credibilityis seriously diminishedwhen it is not clear to the reader
who or what he is.
One way for the reader to organize Ostrover's words so that
they may be usefully applied to Edelshtein's identity is to break
down the binary between Jew and Gentile. Ostrover does not
proclaim himself to be either Jew or Gentile; he insists that he
"plays" the part of both when it is to his advantage. Yet again,
Ozick is strugglingwith the Pan versus Moses debate and pointing
to instanceswhere the binarybetween the two breaksdown.
Hannah, the daughterof one of Ostrover's interpreters,makes
up the third leg of the triangle in this story. She both dramatizes
Edelshtein's concerns about Jewish Americanidentityand compli-
cates the constructionof Edelshtein's identity. Hannah, "born in
1945, the hour of the death camps" (91), represents the next
generationof Jewish Americans. She speaks Yiddish, which as the
"storehouse"of history should align her with her ancestors, but
ironically, she wants nothing to do with them. During an angry
altercationwith Edelshtein on the night of Ostrover'sreading, she
clearly identifies herself only by what she is not; she tells Edel-
shtein she is not "yourkind" of Jew, and asserts, "all you people
want to do is suffer" (92). She clearly separatesherself from her
Eastern European Jewish ancestors and their heritage when she
asserts, "history's a waste" (92). She has turned her back on the
history and anguish of her people, and wants only "universalism"
or assimilation into the Americanmainstream.She admiresOstro-
ver because "he speaks for everybody"(95). According to critic
Sarah Cohen, this rush to assimilate reveals the interalization of
anti-Semitism(60).
Hannah's feelings of anti-Semitism become clear when she
shouts, "Hanging on my neck, him [her uncle] and now you, the
whole bunch of you, parasites,hurryup and die" (97). Her lack of
respect and love for her ancestors, many of whom share a lived
memory of Hitler, is appalling. More dangerous is her rush to
forget all of those who have come before her. Her conception of
history as a burden will not allow her to use history to bring
HISTORYAND IDENTITYIN OZICK 193

meaning to her life. Her hate for her ancestors' history is really a
self hate that paralyzes rather than assists identity construction.
Without a history, she has no identity, and can only pinpoint what
she is by rejectingwhat she thinks she is not.
Edelshtein is accurate in assessing that Jewish American
identity is in grave danger due to American freedom, acceptance,
and thus assimilation(Kielsky 151). He also pinpointswhy assimi-
lation threatens Jewish identity; it demands historical amnesia.
However, because Edelshtein sometimes bastardizes Jewish
history for his own personal gain, he lacks credibility in his inter-
actions with others. For example, when he urges Hannahto "grow
old in Yiddish ... and carryyour fathersand uncles into the future
with you" (74), even he can see throughhis selfish siren song, as
he indicates by asking, "What did the death of Jews have to do
with his own troubles?"(75). The pull of his personal history has
overshadowed a committed struggle to save Yiddish in America
both because it so fully engages his personal energies and because
it causes Edelshtein to become a lone railer whom others do not
take seriously.
The truthof this story lies in the ways the charactersuse history
to construct identity. All exhibit how to use history by how they
misuse it. Although Edelshtein retains Jewish culture and history
by speaking Yiddish, he also exploits historical memory for his
own selfish ends. Instead of using history to inform his present,
Edelshtein tries to invoke feelings of guilt in others so that they
will help him in his quest for fame. Hannah refuses history, and
therefore does not really know who she is or feel a connection to
other Jews. Ironically,in her rejection of her ancestors, she allows
them to define her by what they are not. Although Ostrover has
immigratedfrom Poland and carrieshistorywith him, both through
memory and his usage of Yiddish, Ozick never clearly presents
Ostrover's identity to the reader. Therefore, the reader cannot
identify Ostroveras Jew or Gentile, but must invent a classification
in between these categories.
A desirable state of using history is one in which history
informs what one is, and not just what one is not, as is true in
Hannah's case. It is also a state in which collective and personal
histories work together to inform identity constructionratherthan
struggling against one another, as they do in Edelshtein's case.
194 JANET L. COOPER

Finally, history arises from an internal struggle, and not a simple

rejectionof historyor an employmentof historywhen it suits one's
ends. It is only throughviewing Edelshtein's concern for Yiddish
filtered through Hannah's violent disentanglement from history
and Ostrover's bear dance that one can constructthis lesson from
the story.
CynthiaOzick's triangularstructureof creatingmeaning out of
competing inventions of history prevents her stories' lessons from
being simple, essentialist, or stereotypical.Ozick strongly implies
that Jewish identity is both complex and always changing as each
person struggles to discover who he or she is by reinventing
personaland collective histories. If these strivingswere not evident
by her characters' actions, Ozick further highlights them by
making her readersstruggleas well. Ozick's structureof triangular
discourse forces the reader to become an active participant in
making meaning. One does not merely read Ozick's texts, but
struggles to understandher by taking partsof characters'historical
discourses and trying to fit them into the emerging picture of the
main character's identity like a complex and shifting jigsaw
puzzle. Such a painstaking enterprise prevents the reader from
creating simplistic meaning from Ozick's stories and fosters
constructionsof Jewishnessthat are as complex as Ozick's vision.

Notes

1. Bitterer Yam is translatedinto Bitter Sea in English. However, the journal

"hadso few subscribersthatBaumzweig's wife called it Invisible Ink"(47).
2. Also, although critics such as Lowin have asserted that Ostrover is a thinly
veiled I.B. Singer, I will discuss Ostroverindependentof Singer's biographical
informationin order to reach a conclusion regardingwhat Ozick is implying
aboutJewish identityon a largerscale.

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