Wednesday Mar 19

On my way from work I was
instinctively walked into a
synagogue to listen to the
Megilath Esther (The Book of Esther)

The house was crowded, everything
went along mechanically, without
any enthusiasm. —

In my mind is a picture
of the same scene in the old
world in my early childhood,
at sunset all stores are closed
All work has stopped, All streets
are full of young & old go on their
way to the synagogues dressed in
their Sabbath’s best, At the places of
worship, everybody seems so happy
as if they would live there with Esther
her adventure. Thus they welcomed
the eve. of the happ merry fiesta of
Purim. — Sweet memories.

——————

Matt’s Notes:

Purim is one of the more cheerful Jewish holidays, a celebration of how ancient Jews of the Persian Empire saved themselves from an evil royal minister who hoped to destroy them. The celebration involves dressing up like characters from the story, putting on plays, having parties and giving to charity. Papa grew up in a Jewish ghetto where Purim was probably the biggest festival of the year and gave everyone a breather from the trials of their daily lives, so it’s no wonder it meant so much to him.

When I read about his disappointment, I’m reminded of the scene in Midnight Cowboy in which John Voight arrives in New York, sure his cowboy look will make him a standout gigolo, only to see dozens of other cowboy gigolos wandering around. This might seem like an odd association, but I bring it up because New York can be unforgiving that way — huge, busy and hungry, the city is indifferent even to the things we find most significant. New York has never needed help from any holiday to feel colorful and hectic; perhaps that’s why, in Papa’s eyes, Purim felt less important when imported.

I should note that my wife, Stephanie, who spent her early childhood in an insular Orthodox community, remembers Purim as a big deal and has many happy memories of it. Perhaps the dilution of Purim Papa sensed was due to the diversity of his neighborhood (yes, it was very Jewish, but not entirely so, while my wife’s neighborhood was probably as culturally homogeneous as Papa’s home town). He might have enjoyed Purim more, too, if he’d had children to dress up and regale with the old stories; surely such holidays intensified his longing for a family of his own and contributed to his sense of disappointment.

In any event, the Yivo Institute for Jewish Research has a great Web site called “People of a Thousand Towns” with images of Eastern European Purim celebrations in the early 20th Century. I’ve written to Yivo with a request to use some of these images. Alas, I’m not sure I’m ever going to hear back from them The above and below photos of early 20th Century Eastern European Purim celebrations come from this collection and are published with their permission. Check out the site when you get a chance (registration required) but beware — you may lose a few hours paging through all the images.

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Update 3/19 –

My mother writes:

When I was growing up in Brooklyn, Purim was also a big deal. I remember one play in Hebrew school where I played Queen Vashti, the king’s petulant wife. Papa thought I was wonderful and raved about the way I tossed my head, but I’m sure he believed I should have been chosen for the part of Esther.

—————-

Additional references:

Here’s more on the story of Purim from jewfaq.org and Wikipedia .

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Update 3/22 –

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Thursday Mar 20


I was embued with
a Purim spirit just thinking
a little of days gone by
Down in my neighborhood
I saw some cheep masquerades
just a shadow of a Purim
in the old world.

Visited my sisters.

I talked with the 20th
Century girl on the phone,
I long for a closer association
with her, I am constantly
thinking of her.

————

Matt’s Notes

Just a few days after meeting the “20th Century Girl,” Papa has become the very picture of a lovesick young man. Nothing can distract him from his longing; even children running by in their Purim regalia make him feel worse. (Not that he was happy about the state of Purim in New York to begin with, as we saw yesterday.) If this were an old cartoon he’d be kicking a can down the street. Maybe a car would drive through a puddle and splash him.

I wonder where he talked to the 20th Century Girl — he didn’t have a phone in his apartment, so he must have borrowed a neighbor’s or used a pay phone in his building or on the street. I’m sure he prearranged the call with his friend Rothblum (who introduced Papa to the 20th Century girl) during their conspiratorial shvitz a couple of nights earlier.

In any event, when she talked to Papa, the 20th Century Girl might have looked a little something like this:



Image source: Young woman posed with a telephone, 1915.
Library of Congress call # LC-USZ62-89817. No rights information indicated.