This report from the online workshop on 3 June 2021 which took place at the University of Vienna and University of Gothenburg gives an account of the talks and discussions on the role of Rabbi Marcus Ehrenpreis in the Jewish communities of Sofia and Stockholm.
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Recension av jag må bo mitt ibland dem. Stockholms stora synagoga 150 år
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Pub Date : 2021-11-23DOI: 10.1093/obo/9780199840731-0219
The centrality of translation in the history of Hebrew literature cannot be overstated. Scholars of Hebrew translation history often attribute the fact that Hebrew writers have steadily relied on translation for enriching and sustaining the Hebrew literary canon to Hebrew’s long-standing existence in a state of diglossia or multiglossia: a condition in which a community habitually uses two or more languages or several forms of the same language for different purposes. Jewish communities from antiquity to the present have generally used Hebrew alongside other tongues, even after Hebrew’s reinvention as a modern vernacular, its so-called revival, in the 20th century. It is possible that Hebrew served as a vernacular in antiquity, but sufficient proof of this possibility has never surfaced. Nevertheless, in late-19th-century Eastern Europe, Jewish thinkers and lexicographers began promoting the idea of resuscitating Hebrew. They often articulated this goal through the metaphor and practice of translation, borrowing from European cultures the notion that every modern nation is defined by a shared vernacular, while also translating into Hebrew a cornucopia of texts—scientific, poetic, journalistic, and philosophical. This enabled those late-19th- and early-20th-century Jewish thinkers to enrich, expand, and test the limits of Hebrew in a modern context. If the modern Hebrew literary canon includes the Hebrew Bible, as many Hebrew writers and scholars believe, then it consists of the most frequently translated and widely circulated text in the world. Yet Biblical Hebrew differs from later formations of the language, and traditions of biblical translation in and outside the Jewish world call for separate bibliographies. The following bibliography focuses on central theoretical questions relating to traditions of translation in Hebrew literature, foregrounding the intensifying debates on Hebrew’s spiritual and national status from the 19th century onward. Translation has often served as a unique arena for such debates, acting as a vehicle for transforming Hebrew literature from within, while allowing for its venturing out. It has frequently allowed its practitioners to define the imaginary boundaries of Hebrew literature and delineate the contours of Hebrew culture as primarily Jewish-national.
{"title":"Traditions of Translation in Hebrew Literature","authors":"","doi":"10.1093/obo/9780199840731-0219","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1093/obo/9780199840731-0219","url":null,"abstract":"The centrality of translation in the history of Hebrew literature cannot be overstated. Scholars of Hebrew translation history often attribute the fact that Hebrew writers have steadily relied on translation for enriching and sustaining the Hebrew literary canon to Hebrew’s long-standing existence in a state of diglossia or multiglossia: a condition in which a community habitually uses two or more languages or several forms of the same language for different purposes. Jewish communities from antiquity to the present have generally used Hebrew alongside other tongues, even after Hebrew’s reinvention as a modern vernacular, its so-called revival, in the 20th century. It is possible that Hebrew served as a vernacular in antiquity, but sufficient proof of this possibility has never surfaced. Nevertheless, in late-19th-century Eastern Europe, Jewish thinkers and lexicographers began promoting the idea of resuscitating Hebrew. They often articulated this goal through the metaphor and practice of translation, borrowing from European cultures the notion that every modern nation is defined by a shared vernacular, while also translating into Hebrew a cornucopia of texts—scientific, poetic, journalistic, and philosophical. This enabled those late-19th- and early-20th-century Jewish thinkers to enrich, expand, and test the limits of Hebrew in a modern context. If the modern Hebrew literary canon includes the Hebrew Bible, as many Hebrew writers and scholars believe, then it consists of the most frequently translated and widely circulated text in the world. Yet Biblical Hebrew differs from later formations of the language, and traditions of biblical translation in and outside the Jewish world call for separate bibliographies. The following bibliography focuses on central theoretical questions relating to traditions of translation in Hebrew literature, foregrounding the intensifying debates on Hebrew’s spiritual and national status from the 19th century onward. Translation has often served as a unique arena for such debates, acting as a vehicle for transforming Hebrew literature from within, while allowing for its venturing out. It has frequently allowed its practitioners to define the imaginary boundaries of Hebrew literature and delineate the contours of Hebrew culture as primarily Jewish-national.","PeriodicalId":41057,"journal":{"name":"Nordisk Judaistik-Scandinavian Jewish Studies","volume":"44 1","pages":""},"PeriodicalIF":0.1,"publicationDate":"2021-11-23","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"91225975","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2021-10-27DOI: 10.1093/obo/9780199840731-0218
Holocaust memorials can be categorized according to the evolution of the genre. The first type of memorials are the historical sites of discrimination and destruction themselves, such as concentration and extermination camps, transit camps, ghettos, forced labor camps, and sites of mass executions, as well as sites where hiding, rescue, and other life-saving operations took place. The second category, which developed immediately after the war, includes plaques and monuments dedicated to the memory of Holocaust victims. In many cases, these monuments are erected in the places where the victims came from; the victims can be identified individually, with some personal details (e.g., age, occupation, etc.), or as part of a specific group (residents of a building, student body of a school, denizens of a town, etc.). These memorials, located all over Europe where the victims originated, follow traditional artistic patterns, such as plaques, allegorical sculptures, and rare figurative expressions. The third and more recent category comprises memorial museums, a complex combination of two institutions: a memorial, with its commemorative purpose, and a museum, with its collection, conservation, documentation, and educational missions. Such institutions are not necessarily located in cities where deportation and/or extermination took place, but may also be established where significant survivor populations settled after the war and took it upon themselves to commemorate the Holocaust: Israel, the United States, Canada, Australia, South Africa, Argentina. Most recent memorial museums are also architectural artworks that add an artistic interpretation to the historical content: broken lines, voids, grids, narrow spaces, and dead ends are some of the design traits that contribute to express the loss and destruction in more abstract ways. Scholarship about Holocaust memorials has appeared and evolved in parallel with the memorials themselves. First came the historical accounts and testimonials about specific sites of destruction, then guides to monuments, followed by monographs about types of memorials (geographical focus with studies about public memory in Germany, France, or Poland, or artistic focus with counter-monuments). Later came the studies of memorial museums, whether as monographs or in a comparative approach, sometimes in a global perspective. More recently, a number of scholars have examined Holocaust memorials in relation with other phenomena, such as commodification and tourism, space, religious practices, memory politics, and appropriation.
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Pub Date : 2021-08-25DOI: 10.1093/obo/9780199840731-0214
Abraham Sutzkever (Yiddish: Avrom Sutskever; Hebrew: Avraham Sutskever) (b. 1913–d. 2010) was a titan of Yiddish literature. Over the course of six decades, he published more than thirty volumes of poetry and prose. He also edited the most important postwar Yiddish journal of arts and letters, Di goldene keyt, from 1949 to 1995. From his youth in Vilna and Siberia to his later years in Tel Aviv, Sutzkever insistently posited the power of poetry to sustain life and culture. His wartime experiences further marked the writer as both poet and hero. During his incarceration in the Vilna Ghetto, he served as a member of the “Paper Brigade,” rescuing the cultural heritage of the Jewish community of the “Jerusalem of Lithuania.” He also took up arms as a partisan fighter in the forests surrounding the city. After the war, he testified in graphic detail at the Nuremberg Tribunals at the request of the Soviet Union. A writer of wide-ranging interests—from the frozen tundra of Omsk to the cafés of Paris, from the cellars of the Vilna Ghetto to the shores of the Red Sea—Sutzkever continually exercised his neologistic skills, poeticizing his present life in conversation with the memories of his past and his cultural ambitions for the future. Some of his most prominent volumes include his first collection, Lider (Poems), published in Warsaw in 1937; his epic poem Sibir (Siberia), illustrated by Marc Chagall and published in Jerusalem in 1953; the series of experimental prose poems of memorialization, Griner akvaryum (Green Aquarium), published in Jerusalem in 1975; and one of his later volumes, Lider fun togbukh (Poems from a Diary), published in Tel Aviv in 1977.
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Pub Date : 2021-07-28DOI: 10.1093/obo/9780199840731-0213
Interest in the Jewish heritage and Jewish communities of Central and Eastern Europe, including Poland, has grown in recent decades. The cultural phenomenon has been termed variously as the “Jewish renaissance,” “Jewish revival,” or “Jewish boom” and has demonstrated enormous complexity. The phenomenon consists of two intertwined social processes: a Jewish communal revival and a Jewish heritage celebration, the latter of which includes various cultural initiatives undertaken by outsiders to the Jewish community. The opening of the Eastern Bloc after the collapse of communism made foreign institutional support and funding for the renewal of Jewish communal life available. The growing popularity of heritage and Holocaust tourism enabled the gentrification of neglected historical Jewish neighborhoods and sites and renovation or restoration of material Jewish heritage. Increasingly people have pursued their Jewish roots upon discovering them. The “unexpected generation”—the generation of Poles born between the late 1970s and the early 1990s who claimed their Jewish ancestry as teenagers—has emerged carrying their own notions of Jewishness. Simultaneously, growing interest by non-Jewish Poles in Jews and all things Jewish has been observable in the multiplication of Jewish-style cultural products, in the opening of new cultural institutions (of which the most notable is the POLIN Museum of the History of Polish Jews in Warsaw), and in the emergence of Jewish studies programs at many universities. However, as many Polish cities and towns hold Jewish festivals of some kind and concerts of klezmer music are organized all over the country, artists, intellectuals, and scholars approach the “Jewish revival” with widely divergent views. They do so mainly because Poland was the geographic epicenter of the Holocaust. Little remains of Poland’s large, vibrant, and diverse Jewish communities, which, prior to World War II, constituted approximately 10 percent of the Polish population. Until recently, most historical and sociological analysis of Jews in Poland after World War II concluded that the Jewish community will soon end. Estimates of the number of members of Jewish communities range from a little over 7,000 to 20,000 people. Polish society remains overtly homogenous in terms of its ethnicity and religion, identifying mostly as Roman Catholic. Therefore, the revival of Jewish culture and the preservation of Jewish memory have been carried out mainly by non-Jews and, for the most part, for non-Jewish audiences. Consequently, the phenomenon has been often perceived as a simulacrum, as a cultural theft lacking authenticity—morally ambivalent endeavors concerning Polish complicity in the Holocaust and widespread anti-Semitism. Yet, some scholars have put forward another reading of the Jewish cultural revival, one that is not mere imitation and reproduction of the lost heritage but rather one that entails the reinvention of a new Jewish culture, which may create
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Pub Date : 2021-07-28DOI: 10.1093/obo/9780199840731-0209
Hebrew literature, defined expansively, has existed outside of the land of Israel since at least the first millennium of the Common Era. Hebrew religious, liturgical, and poetic works were composed in Europe, the Middle East, and North America for a thousand years before the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948. The presence of vocabulary, grammar, and genres that were adapted from non-Jewish-dominant cultures are a testament to the long imbrication of Hebrew in the Diaspora, the areas of Jewish dispersion outside the land of Israel. Hebrew literature in its modern form originated in the cities of Europe in the 19th century, drawing on European languages and literatures, historical layers of the Hebrew textual tradition, and Yiddish for inspiration. In the early 20th century, the Tarbut Ivrit (Hebrew Culture) movement, a deeply Zionist group made up of American Hebraists, most of whom had immigrated from the Russian Empire and been influenced by Ahad Ha’am’s idea of a national Hebrew culture, created another center of Hebrew literary production in the United States. At the same time, the center of Hebrew culture was shifting from Europe to Palestine, and after the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948, Palestine rapidly became the main center of Hebrew literary production. Nonetheless, even since 1948, there has always been a small but significant amount of Hebrew literature written outside of Israel, whether by translingual Hebraists or Israeli expatriates. While most of the American Hebraist movement had died out by the 1960s, a few writers continued to produce Hebrew literature in America until the 1990s. And since that time, Israeli expatriate writers in the United States and Europe have begun to create a contemporary Hebrew literature outside of Israel, with its own idioms and ideologies. Unlike the American Hebraists of the Tarbut Ivrit movement, these writers often see Hebrew in apolitical terms or are explicitly anti-Zionist in their use of Hebrew in the Diaspora. This contemporary Diaspora Hebrew literature has also been accompanied by the rise of multilingual Israeli literature, often with overt references to Hebrew but written in other languages. These Hebrew and multilingual literary cultures are also strongly tied to art in other forms and media, which are essential to understanding contemporary Hebrew culture in a global context.
从广义上讲，希伯来文学至少从公元的第一个千年开始就存在于以色列之外。在1948年以色列国建立之前的一千年里，在欧洲、中东和北美已经有了希伯来宗教、礼拜仪式和诗歌作品。词汇、语法和体裁的出现都是从非犹太文化中改编而来的，这证明了犹太人在以色列土地以外的散居地区长期使用希伯来语。现代形式的希伯来文学起源于19世纪的欧洲城市，借鉴了欧洲语言和文学，希伯来文本传统的历史层次，以及意第绪语的灵感。在20世纪早期，Tarbut Ivrit(希伯来文化)运动，一个由美国希伯来人组成的深刻的犹太复国主义团体，他们中的大多数是从俄罗斯帝国移民过来的，受到Ahad Ha 'am关于民族希伯来文化的想法的影响，在美国创造了另一个希伯来文学创作中心。与此同时，希伯来文化的中心正从欧洲向巴勒斯坦转移，1948年以色列国成立后，巴勒斯坦迅速成为希伯来文学生产的主要中心。尽管如此，即使自1948年以来，在以色列以外的地方也一直有少量但数量可观的希伯来文学作品，无论是由翻译希伯来语的希伯来人还是以色列侨民写的。虽然大多数美国希伯来语运动在20世纪60年代已经消亡，但少数作家继续在美国创作希伯来语文学，直到20世纪90年代。从那时起，移居美国和欧洲的以色列作家开始在以色列之外创造一种当代希伯来文学，具有自己的习语和意识形态。与Tarbut Ivrit运动的美国希伯来学者不同，这些作家经常用非政治的术语来看待希伯来语，或者在散居犹太人中使用希伯来语时明确地反对犹太复国主义。当代散居的希伯来文学也伴随着多语言以色列文学的兴起，经常公开引用希伯来语，但用其他语言写作。这些希伯来语和多语言文学文化也与其他形式和媒体的艺术紧密相连，这对于在全球背景下理解当代希伯来文化至关重要。
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Pub Date : 2021-06-23DOI: 10.1093/obo/9780199840731-0208
The surprising aspect of Nazi ghettoization is that there was no centralized German policy and no clear agreement on what comprised a ghetto. Most decisions about ghettoization were taken at the regional or local level. The most workable definition of a ghetto is that it was a place where Jews were concentrated, consisting generally of entire family units, as opposed to forced labor camps for Jews that contained Jews selected for labor. In fact, not all ghettos were fenced, as some towns had open ghettos marked only by signs or just an occasional police patrol. Others had quite porous barbed-wire fences, whereas the larger ghettos, such as those in Łódź and Warsaw, were defined by their high walls that were very difficult to cross. A great wealth of information on ghettos can be found in the respective memorial (Yizkor) books, only a small sample of which can be mentioned here. Other key information can be found in memoirs, chronicles, and diaries. By contrast, relatively few monographs have been devoted specifically to ghettos, and even fewer to the general topic of ghettos. However, much useful information, including additional references, can be found in the more detailed encyclopedias devoted to the topic. Several regional overviews of the Holocaust also provide an excellent analysis of the role played by ghettos in the Nazi plans for the destruction of the Jews. In terms of geographical organization, three main subdivisions have been used below. The General Government and territories incorporated into the Reich form one large region that covers most of modern-day Poland as well as the western fringes of what is now Ukraine and Belarus. Here the majority of the Jews were deported by rail from ghettos to extermination centers. In Nazi-occupied territory of the Soviet Union (as of 1940, including the Baltic States), Jews were mostly marched out of the ghettos to be shot in nearby forests and ravines. Finally, the ghettos under Hungarian and Romanian administration are treated as a third regional group, as here the chronology of ghettoization and the ultimate fate of the Jews varied somewhat from the other two areas.
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Pub Date : 2021-02-24DOI: 10.1093/obo/9780199840731-0206
Sergey Dolgopolski, Laura Taddeo
“Talmud” means in Tannaitic Hebrew “learning,” “study,” or more precisely “expounding.” From the Middle Ages and on, the term came to refer to two corpora of rabbinic literature from Late Antiquity, called, respectively, Palestinian Talmud, or “Yerushalmi,” and Babylonian Talmud, or “Bavli.” Even broader, the term can mean rabbinic literature in Late Antiquity in general to include corpora of the Mishnah, Midrash, and other genres of late ancient rabbinic literature as well. There traditionally has been an incongruity in thinking about “Talmud and philosophy.” Philosophy was always understood as a discipline of thinking that has developed historically from Antiquity on. However, “Talmud” has been predominantly understood as an object, a book, “the Talmud” as opposed to “Talmud” as an intellectual discipline. That understanding leads to the first rubric in this article: the Talmud as an Object of Philosophical or Theoretical Inquiry: Comparative Study. The rubric embraces synchronic and diachronic comparative studies of the Talmud (as an object) in its relationship to philosophy as a discipline at various stages of its development. Yet beginning from the Middle Ages and the Early Modern period, the Talmud acquired a new understanding. Now, like philosophy, it has come to be understood as a discipline of thinking (which renders in English as Talmud, without the “the”). Not totally unlike how the discipline of rhetoric has been classified by different authors as either a part of philosophy or the philosophy’s most significant other, Talmud also has been placed differently in relation to philosophy. Different authors understand it either as one among other philosophical disciplines or, alternatively, as a discipline of its own, distinct from philosophy. That translates into the second rubric of this article, Talmud as a Discipline of Thinking at different periods of its evolution from Late Antiquity to modern times. The third major rubric is thematic; it includes works in which Talmud and philosophy is a theme (“(The) Talmud and Philosophy” as a Theme). As is true for all schematic divisions, a specific work, author, or line of thinking can defy this partition. Focused as it is on relationships between Talmud and philosophy, this article does not address a related but radically different field of philosophy, that of halakhah (Jewish Law), for the latter treats the Talmud as neither an object nor a discipline, but rather as a source of law; this is a radically different pursuit belonging to a bibliography on law and philosophy, which is not treated in this article. This selected bibliography focuses primarily on individual monographs published in the last ten years, with an even more selective mention of what has proved to be influential works in this category published earlier. The compilers of this bibliography envision it as a node and invite additional entries accompanied by original bibliographic descriptions, which will be credited to the name o
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Pub Date : 2021-02-24DOI: 10.1093/obo/9780199840731-0204
A. Cooper
Modern Jewish thought has been largely a masculine discursive space in both its historical construction and its focus, which is reflected in the makeup of its accepted canon. Certain figures are generally included in edited collections and syllabi of modern Jewish thought and philosophy. The field’s medieval and early modern antecedents include 12th-century scholar Moses Maimonides and 17th-century thinker Baruch Spinoza. The 18th-century German philosopher Moses Mendelssohn is generally viewed as the “father” of the field. Beginning with the 19th- and 20th-century German philosopher Hermann Cohen, prominent 20th-century figures include the following: German philosophers Franz Rosenzweig and Martin Buber; French-Lithuanian thinker Emmanuel Levinas; American thinkers Mordecai Kaplan, Joseph B. Soloveitchik, and Abraham Joshua Heschel; and post-Holocaust philosophers and theologians Emil Fackenheim, Richard Rubenstein, and Eliezer Berkovits. Other notable figures include founding Reform rabbi Abraham Geiger, Orthodox rabbis Samson Raphael Hirsch and Abraham Isaac Kook, political philosopher Leo Strauss, Israeli Orthodox thinker Yeshayahu Leibowitz, and American rabbi and philosopher Eugene Borowitz. Sometimes the political philosopher Hannah Arendt and feminist theologians such as Judith Plaskow are included, but the entirety of the canon is often male-dominated. Form tends to mirror content in the formation and maintenance of such canons. In these cases, male-dominated discourse, drawn from a network of male thinkers who operate in relation to one another, favors approaches that foreground and privilege the masculine. While this textual corpus has remained largely immune to critiques informed by gender and feminist analysis, important and groundbreaking contributions to the fields of gender and Jewish philosophy have been made. It is not simply a matter of adding women-identified and nonbinary voices to the canon (although any heterogeneity is preferable to none), but of attending to critiques informed by gender and feminist analysis in order to uncover viewpoints and frameworks that have been overlooked. This article includes sources that attend to this aim in a variety of ways and with differing methodologies: texts by women-identified writers and texts about women and gender (in many cases overlapping), texts that critically analyze the construction and preservation of sex and gender hierarchies, texts that uncover philosophical omissions by male-identified thinkers, and texts that philosophically reflect upon experiences and lived realities that have been largely neglected, including embodiment, emotion, affect, vulnerability, maternity, and a feminist ethics of care, among others. These interventions consider, among other foundational questions: Who is included or excluded from the canonical framework? What can contemporary theories of gender teach us about the use of gendered terms in Judaism? In what ways can feminist criticism identify the
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