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4To
SATIRE
Jewish,
They Wrote
W
ith Jewish Book Month
upon us once more, we are
again faced with that ageless
— and, possibly, that answer-
less — question:
Just what is a Jewish book?
Is a Jewish book a text written by
a Jew? If so, must it address only
Jewish issues? Or does a book
qualify as "Jewish" if it is written by
a person of any faith but is of specific
interest to Jews?
Perversely using this last criteria,
would Mein Kampf qualify as a
"Jewish" book because its message
was ultimately so essential to the
fate of many millions of Jews?
Would a cookbook of Italian dishes
written by a Jew be a "Jewish" book,
an "Italian" book, or just a plain old
"cookbook." Maybe only Julia Child
knows the answer. ❑
What follows is Arthur Magida's
satirical look at how four famous
authors could write Jewish.
•
• most elusive of genres
THE JEWISH BOOK
THE ACCIDENTAL TSURIS
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BY PHILIP ROTH
• .
acon walked into the deli de-
termined only to get a pa-
strami on rye. Nothing more
and nothing less, although his mother
had always told him, "Eat, eat, mein
kind, my son, my light of my life, my
f uture, my Mr. Know-It-All-Because-You-
Were-Always-The-Smartest-Kid-On-The-
Block. Fill yourself up until you need to
take your belt out one notch. No, two not-
ches. You were always too thin, anyway.
Always the kid who got the A's on every
test, but were so thin your biology
teacher had you stand in front of your en-
tire class because all the other students
could clearly see your bone structure. For
that, I cooked for you every night? For
that, I knew by heart every recipe in Joy
of Cooking?"
That even the wanting of anything as
simple as a sandwich could unleash this
torrent of a maternal monologue made
Macon cringe and he swore to spend at
least the next 15 years in therapy, just
like his brother, Alexander, who despite
having catharsis after catharsis on the
couch, still did a lot of complaining.
"Will that be with or without
mustard?" asked the woman behind the
counter.
Macon flustered, always bashful when
confronted with personal questions.
"Hi, my name's Muriel," said the
blonde who smelled of corn beef and
tongue and brisket.
Macon decided to change the order to
roast beef, and when he looked into
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78
FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 22, 1991
A satirical look at that
Muriel's blue eyes, he knew that he was
a goner; and they would be sharing a Dr.
Pepper before the sun went down. ❑
GENESIS
BY ERNEST HEMINGWAY
T
he old man stood up straight
in the boat and said to the boy,
"Light, Give me light."
The boy was small and dark and fine.
He handed the torch to the old man. They
both peeked into the blackness of the
water. It was painful, but they looked.
There was still no fish. They had been on
the seas for three days. No fish had come
to them.
The old man rowed slowly and steadi-
ly. He spoke firmly to no one in par-
ticular, not to himself, not to the boy.
"Let there be fish. Let there be wind
to carry us home. Let there be Dansk
silverware on our table so we can have
a fine meal. Let there be a Frank Capra
film on cable tonight so I can have some
jollies while I drink my wine and tell my
friends of the great fish that I will share
with them."
The old man felt the pull of a fish on
his fishing line and he knew that his
heart was pure and that the heart of the
boy was pure and that he would not have
to put tonight's supper on his Diner's
Club card.
He also knew this was one hell of a way
to get fresh lox. ❑