Sholem Aleichem

Born/Death: March 2, 1859 - May 13, 1916
Important Locations: Born in the Russian Empire (today Ukraine), but later immigrated to New York City where he spent the rest of his life.
Notable Work: Numerous short stories revolving around Tevye the Dairyman. (This was my first book of his. We here at The Daily Yiddish encourage buying from local/used bookstores, if possible. But! Obviously, price is a factor and life is complex, so do what you need to do and just be part of the conversation 🙂 )

Introduction to the Series:

I’ve been wanting to highlight Yiddish authors for a while. Like, since my brother sent out the first Daily Yiddish, actually. I think it is not only important to highlight the language itself, but also the people that formed the language into what we know today. Language is, after all, living and developing, and how it is used largely depends on inventive, brilliant people, able to showcase the potential hiding within a set of squiggles (or letters). Shakespeare invented almost 2,000 English words and created even more phrases. (Not at all) Surprisingly, all languages have these influential people and I wanted to highlight those who contributed to Yiddish. I hope you enjoy some of these brilliant users of the Yiddish language. If you do or don’t, you can always email me.

Also, I’ll be posting links to books or video clips throughout this series, so please feel free to watch or buy or whatever. Maybe we can start a book club? Who knows?

Some Background:

If we were going to start with a Yiddish Shakespeare, we may as well begin with a man often heralded as “the most beloved classical Yiddish writer”: Sholem Aleichem. Born Sholem Rabinovitz in Pereyaslav, Ukraine, he was introduced to Hebrew Literature by his father. His father, a merchant and supporter of Jewish Enlightenment, knew Hebrew Literature was the purview of maskilim (proponents of the Jewish Enlightenment). Because of this, Aleichem originally wrote stories in Hebrew, as it was considered more sophisticated and scholarly than Yiddish. At the age of 24, however, he published his first Yiddish story under the pseudonym, Sholem Aleichem, literally meaning, “Peace be upon you.” The rest, as they say, is history.

Except, it really isn’t because Aleichem worked hard, published stories that introduced a wider world to the complexities and realities of the Jewish experience in Eastern Europe, and, not to mention, helped bring Yiddish to a much larger audience (like us). As I have said, he is most famous for the creation of Tevye the Dairyman, whose tales (and subsequent misfortune) became the basis for the 1964 musical Fiddler on the Roof. These stories are no doubt comedic. Tevye’s ramblings, mangled biblical verses, and nonsensical notions often have me laughing audibly in a coffee shop. But, underneath the humor, there is a pervasive, inescapable darkness to his words. If you have seen Fiddler, you know there is not always joy and times are not always simple in Aleichem’s shtetl. There are tragedies, great and simple, that affect everyone. But this is no different than, no? In our right hand, we hold happiness, yet in our left, we hold some degree of hardship that makes us cling ever tighter to our right. One day it storms, the next sun. And on and on, forever. Sunrise, Sunset.

So too was true for Aleichem, himself. Despite gaining worldwide acclaim, he could not escape religious turmoil in the pogroms of his Russian home, or financial troubles in New York City. Health problems caught him and led to his death at the young age of 57. Yet, his fiftieth birthday was celebrated around the world and seven years later he had one of the largest funerals in New York City history, with an estimated 100,000 mourners. Fantastic highs, crippling lows. That was his experience, one that I believe is shared by many of his readers and my readers alike. This paradox is part of what inspires how I write here. I fear I do writers like Aleichem a disservice only acknowledging the good. There is bad in the world and it must be faced and laughed at, acknowledged and appreciated; for hardship makes us cherish the beauty of joy, however slight.

To quote Aleichem, “No matter how bad things get you got to go on living, even if it kills you.” I’ll see you tomorrow.