NormanG finds so much to write about that he
needed yet another place to enter his thoughts.
"GOD AND EVIL" - A REVIEW
Why do helpless, innocent, and righteous people suffer if, as we believe,
God is all-knowing, all-powerful, and benevolent? Most of us, at one time or another, have asked that troubling question,
while theologians and philosophers have tried to find an answer. The author of "The Book of Job" addressed this
puzzle by allowing Satan to test Job's faith in God through ordeals of suffering.
To
link God with evil seems irreverent, but that is the subject of David Birnbaum's thought-provoking book, "God and
Evil." He distinguishes two kinds of evil: moral evil and natural evil. Moral evil is man's inhumanity and exploitation
of man. It comprises the Judaic view of sin, iniquity, and transgression. It also presumes that humankind is endowed with
God's gift of free will to act without Divine intervention. Natural evil includes catastrophes like droughts, floods,
arthquakes, and tornados, which are described as acts of God.
This is an important distinction.
If we accept the premise that humankind enjoys the Divine gift of free will, then each of us who has learned right from wrong
is responsible for his or her conduct towards others. We cannot shift the blame to God. Natural evil, however, presents a
serious religious problem because God is the Creator of the forces of nature that can destroy human life and property.
According to the prophet Isaiah, God acknowledges that He is responsible for what is good and what
is evil in the world:
I form the light,
and create darkness;
I am the Lord, who
has made all these things.
(Isaiah 45:5)
How
can we reconcile our traditional belief in God's attributes with the existence of natural evil? Birnbaum's answer
is the cabalistic, mystical idea of "tzimtzum," that is, God contracted His spirit in creating the universe. God's
contraction allowed man to have free will and gave the forces of nature the liberty to operate.
This
explanation is, of course, questionable, but it is carefully argued and supported by many quotations from Jewish philosophers.
Would I recommend this book? Yes, if you are willing to plow through ideas that "would cross a rabbi's eyes."
Norman G.
APPRECIATING STORIES
Whenever we read a story or see it performed as a play or film, we want
to enjoy it and, hopefully, learn something from it. To accomplish these goals, we need to focus our attention to comprehend
what happens in the plot, to whom it happens, and why it happens. To interpret the underlying meaning of the story, we need
to assemble the vital information into a pattern of cause and effect. An extra bonus is to be able to appreciate its style
and structure.
For thousands of years, story-telling
has served mankind to describe actual or imaginative experiences, to preserve myths, traditions, and a variety of tales. Stories
have been an essential part of our civilizing and educational process, as in teaching morals and social manners. In the Western
world, the narratives in the Bible have provided us with the fundamental purpose of practically all creative literature: to
interest and to teach. How can we derive the maximum pleasure and deepest understanding of the novels, short stories, and
tales that we read, or see in the plays?
A helpful start is to become familiar
with the general structure of narrative. The opening is extremely important, for the writer wants to catch the interest of
the reader as soon as possible. So he presents his major character(s) with a problem to solve, or a goal to achieve. This
is how he stirs the reader's curiosity and motivates him to read on. To sustain and build the reader's interest, he
then introduces a series of conflicts that generate suspenseful situations or crises. At this midpoint in the plot-structure,
the writer progresses toward the resolution of the suspenseful situations that lead to the major crisis.
This structural pattern is necessary for proceeding to the next step; interpreting
the underlying meaning(s) of the story. It answers the questions: What are the goals of the important characters? And how
do their goal-directed actions affect other characters? A valid interpretation is therefore not a guessing game, but rather
a close study of the text and noticing the connection between causes and consequences.
Finally, in view of the skills required to fully understand and appreciate a story, it is not unusual for readers to arrive
at different but valid interpretations. The mistaken assumption is that there is only one underlying or basic idea in the
text. The truth is that preceptive readers may discover plausible meanings that the writer may have unintentionally embedded
in the plot.
Norman G.
BONSHA THE SILENT SUFFERER
Readers
of short stories usually expect the protagonist or main character to be goal-directed, to achieve or fail to achieve his or
her objective, and to provide the basis for a valid interpretation of the author's underlying point or idea. In Bonsha
Schweig by Loeb Peretz, however, the reader might find Bonsha, the protagonist, too passive and submissive to seem plausible.
As a result, interpretation, as this short story indicates, can become highly problematic.
The theme of the first part of the story is that Bonsha is a poor man without any ambition except to survive his adverse circumstances
without complaining. The author writes, "Bonsha was a human being; he lived, unknown, in silence, and in silence
he died. He passed through our world like a shadow." No one even knew where he was buried because a wind had carried away the board that served as his grave-marker. His childhood
was physically and emotionally abusive; his alcoholic father beat him and threw him out of the house, while his stepmother
begrudged him the scraps of bread and the gristle of meat she threw at him. In spite of the bitterest cold of winter, she
would make him chop wood in his bare, frozen feet. Yet he never cried out, never complained, and never cursed God.
In his earthly life, Bonsha dies as a nobody, but when he arrives in Paradise,
he is acclaimed as a great celebrity. Father Abraham greets him and blesses him. Angels bring him a golden throne and a golden
crown. During his trial in the Heavenly Court, the angel for his defense describes his silent suffering and his exemplary
faith in never rejecting God. The prosecuting angel is so impressed by the earthly life of Bonsha that he refuses to bring
any charges against the silent sufferer. Finally, the presiding judge rules that Bonsha deserves a heavenly reward, consisting
of anything that he desires in Paradise. When Bonsha replies that all he wants is "a hot roll with fresh butter,"
the Heavenly Court and all the angels are stricken with shame at his humble request, while the prosecuting angel laughs bitterly.
Interpreting the underlying meaning of this story is challenging because Bonsha is predominently a passive rather than an
active protagonist. Except for his heroic action of saving a gentleman from serious injury when the gentleman's carrige
horses stampede, Bonsha portrays a victim of adverse circumstances who makes no impression on his villiagers. Yet his silent
resignation to his misfortunes earns him acclamation and a reward in Paradise.
Is the writer suggesting that silent suffering on earth is one of the highest virtues, or that the angels shocked silence
at Bonsha's humble request imbalances them because it debases the image of man? We may even ask whether the author liked
the character he had created.
Since Bonsha provides the reader
with meager data on which to base a clear interpretation, the underlying meaning of this short story remains ambiguous. Yet
this is not necerssarily a narrative flaw. Like Sholem Aleichem, another great Jewish writer, Loeb Peretz, the author, emphasized
an interesting story rather than a clear-cut idea or message. Interpretation is left to the individual reader.
Norman
G.
GIMPEL THE
FOOL
By Isaac Beshevis Singer
Gimpel the Fool is worth rereading any time for the story has been included in many anthologies of Jewish short stories
as an outstanding example of serious Jewish fiction. It illustrates the author's ability to accomplish two traditional
aims of fiction: to delight and to instruct the reader in social manners and in moral standards.
The plot of Gimpel the Fool is deceptively simple. It is narrated by the central character
named Gimpel, who introduces himself in the opening lines: "I am Gimpel, the fool. I don't think myself a fool. On
the contrarary. But that's what folks call me." The folks of his village of Franpol also call him "imbecile,
donkey, flax-head, dope, glump, ninny, and fool," the last denigration having stuck. In his own account, he explains
that he is very gullible: he believes the false rumor that the rabbi's wife is suddenly pregnant, that he is threatened
by a barking dog rather than by a mischievous prankster, and that the Messiah has come.
The villagers arrange for Gimpel to marry a faithless woman named Elka, who already
has a bastard son and whose marital infidelities result in six more illegitimate children whom Gimpel naively believes are
his own. Even the village rabbi cannot persuade Gimpel to divorce Elka in compliance with Jewish law because Gimple loves
the children and convinces himself that he did not really find his wife in bed with other men.
On her deathbed, Elka confesses to Gimple that their six children are not
his. Finally understanding that he has been cuckolded in his marriage, Gimpel becomes so full of rage that he yields to the
evil impulse of revenge by mixing a bucket of urine into the dough to be baked into bread. When the spirit of Elka chastises
him from the "other world," however, he destroys the loaves of bread and leaves the village of Franpol to become
a wandering beggar. As he reflects on his impending death, which he looks forward to because, "Whatever may be there,
it will be real, without complication, without ridicule, without deception. God be praised: there, even Gimpel cannot be deceived."
We have enough information to grasp the author's underlying ideas. There
is Gimpel, the narrator of the story, who rejects the idea that he is a fool, yet proves himself to deserve that tag. He is
simple-minded and so gullible as to become the laughing stock of the village. Yet, evan as a deceived husband, we can't
help noticing that he is also a devoted father who loves his illegitimate children. Among Jewish caricatures, he is a schlimazal.
In short, Gimpel doesn't realize that he really is a fool because he lacks self-understanding. Additionally, the
people of Franpol are also fools who humiliate Gimpel by turning him into a laughing stock. This bebasing of another human
being is, in Judaism, a serious sin.
Norman G.
Delmore Schwart's "Successful Love"
This short story is mainly about a 17-year-old girl named Susan, who decides, with her parents'
permission, to study art in New York City. Beginning to experience the biological urge for sex, she prepares herself for a
successful future marriage by reading a manual titled "Successful Love."
During her attendance
at the art studio, she meets a fellow student named Tony who arouses her sexual desire. Her sexual compataibility with Tony
induces her to believe that he is going to be her future husband, so she loses her virginity to him. However, he is suddenly
called to active duty in the army during the Korean War, so their marital talk is not implemented by a wedding. Nevertheless,
she declares that her love for him will keep her loyal to him while he is away in the military.
In
the last scene, her father happens to see and hear her chatting intimately with a strange young man. The reader is left to
assume that Susan has forgotten her declaration of faithful love to Tony.
From this synopsis
of the plot, I gather that Susan mistakes "romantic love" for "true love," or "successful love."
In other words, in her adolescent immaturity, she has mistaken her sexual infatuation for Tony as a lasting love that involves
loyalty to the man whom she supposedly intends to marry, but her commitment lasts only until the next infatuation. Susan's
mistake is common among young people because their sense of judgment is undeveloped regarding their newly awakened physical
needs. After all, Susan is only a naive 17-year-old girl, so we have to feel sympathy for her. At the same time, we must
recognize her lack of judgment.
Norman G.
LITERARY AIMS
The aims of oral and written stories were to record and preserve the significant events, legends, and myths of a society.
Beginning with tribal societies, story-telling not only entertained the audience but also provided a shared learning experience
to be passed on to future generations. From a sociological point of view, story-telling reflected the attitudes, beliefs,
and social manners of a particular culture, and it continues to do so in more diversified forms such as romances, science
fiction, detective stories, and mysteries.
Reading comprehension of narrative literature includes,
fundamentally, the ability to tell what happens in the plot, to whom it happens, and why it happens. Advanced readers can
analyze the plot structure, that is, describe the build-up of crises and their resolution. In my teaching experience, however,
I had found that my students usually could not agree on the central and the subsidiary meanings of the narrative. The
solution to the problem was to provide a logical procedure for interpretation. This procedure consists of focusing on the
main character and answering the following questions: what is the character's goal? What means does the character employ
to achieve the goal? Is the character's goal realistic, ridiculous, unethical, or risky? Does the character succeed or
fail to achieve the goal and why? And how does the goal-directed action of the main character affect the other characters
in the plot?
Readers who can answer these questions accurately have the necessary information
with which to form a sound interpretation. The final step in this procedure of interpretation is to integrate the component
parts of the information, as in the proverbial expressiconnecting the dots ,and enjoy the reading experience.
Norman G.
MAJOR BARBARA
by George Bernard Shaw
Theatergoers and play readers who prefer drama that combines entertainment,
intellectual stimulation, comic satire, and witty dialogue will be well-rewarded with George Bernard Shaw's MAJOR BARBARA.
At the heart of the play is the issue between
the spiritual work of the Salvation Army and the practical benefits of the arms industry. In Edwardian England, The Salvation
Army was generally ridiculed, and actors who represented the organization on stage were usually mocked. The prevalent attitude
of the British public was that the Salvationists were religious fundamentalists who took the Bible as an infallible account
of early history. Nevertheless, Shaw was favorably impressed with the spiritual and social work of the Salvations Army and
with its hospitality to all who were not drawn to other religions.
Although the play
bears the title of "Major Barbara," Andrew Undershaft, who is an executive in the arms industry, is equally prominent.
The arguments of Andrew Undershaft in defense of the arms industry are so forceful, and his charitable contribution to the
Salvation Army is so shattering to Major Barbara's idealism that she leaves the Salvation Army and returns to the world
of practicality.
Act I begins with the domestic problem of Lady Britomart Undershaft,
an earl's daughter and the overbearing matriarch of the family. Her imperious attitude toward her adult children--Stephen,
Barbara, and Sarah--provides an amusing satire of an upper-class woman who finds herself overhwelmed with the problem of managing
her family on the limited support of her absentee husband. In desperation she invites her estranged husband to a family reunion
in order to solve her problem.
The arrival of Andrew Undershaft serves to provide a touch of humor because in his
long absence from his family, he needs to be reminded of their names. Barbara, his idealistic daughter, who had become a Major
in the Salvation Army, challenges him to visit her Salvation shelter,and he accepts her challenge.
Act II opens with a graphic scene of the Salvation Shelter, with its jobless and needy characters, the voluntary
staff which includes a professor of Greek, who is a relatively new member, and Andrew Undershaft, who serves as the challenged
observer. The scene is extremely revealing in its action and thematic development. The goal of the Salvation Army is tested,
however, when Bill Walker, a tough guttersnipe wh speaks Cockney, arrives in a hostile mood and strikes two volunteer workers.
When they forgive him for his unprovoked assault, he is disconcerted and further tests the Salvation Army's reliance on
forgiveness by spitting in the eye of a popular boxer, a member of the Salvation Army.
Converted
by his extraordinary experience, Bill tries to atone for his misdeeds by offering money to the Salvation Army's cause.
Although the Salvation Army desperately needs the money, Major Barbara refuses it, stating proudly that "The Army is
not to be bought. We want your soul, Bill, and we'll take nothing less."
Despite Maor Barbara's high-minded
contention that the Salvation Army cannot be bought, events soon prove otherwise. Mrs. Bain, a fervent fundraiser for
the Salvation Army, persuades Andrew Undershaft to donate five thousand pounds to match the money donated by Lord Saxmundham,
formerly Horace Bodger, a wealthy whisky distiller. When Major Barbara protests, Mrs. Bain replies, "Dear Barbara, Lord
Saxmundham has a soul to be saved like anyone of us. If heaven found a way to make a good use of his money, are we to set
ourselves up against the answer to our prayers?" Major Barbara's agreement with Mrs. Bain's reasoning precipitates
the major climax of the play, namely, Major Barbara's leaving the Salvation Army as a disillusioned idealist.
In Act III the resolution of the major climax consists of short scenes in which Charles Lomax ridicules Barbara for her
idealism and confesses that he always regarded the Salvation Army as nonsense. Aldolphus Cusins, the professor of Greek, admits
that his joining the Salvation Army was a strategem to court Barbara.
In addition, Andrew Undershaft reveals
that he is seeking another foundling to succeed him at his arms factory. Lady Britomart suggests that he select his son
Stephen, but Stephen scorns that idea as beneath his ethical standard of "character." Provoked by his son's
conceit, Andew Undershaft boasts that in reality, he and the other wealthy tycoons control the government of England.
The problem of who will inherit Andrew Undershaft's armament enterprise is solved when Adolphus Cusins, the professor
of Greek, surprises the family by announcing that he is qualified by virtue of being a foundling according to English law.
Seizing on this new information, Andrew Undershaft offers Adolphus the opportunity to become his successor at a handsome salary
and to report to work the next morning. The play ends ironically with the Britomart family's visiting the Undershaft arms
factory and being favorably impressed with its progressive features and attractive amenities for the employees.
Norman G.
