Oy Vey!

The other day I was listening to a rebroadcast of a Fresh Air interview between Terry Gross and Michael Chabon about his novel The Yiddish Policemen's Union (which I have not read, but it just won a Hugo). Chabon takes an actual but little-known piece of history and imagines what would have happened if things had gone differently than they did in real life. Apparently a proposal really came before Congress in which all the Jews who were fleeing Nazi-occupied Europe could settle temporarily in Alaska, of all places. In the interview (which is well worth listening to—this was my second time), Chabon says that the initial inspiration for the novel came from a phrasebook he saw somewhere: Yiddish for Travelers. This struck him as very curious, since, as he puts it, it's a book for travelers with no real destination in mind. (He also jokes about how such books always have a weird assortment of "necessary" phrases to learn, like "I need a tourniquet" and "Which way to the casino"?)

So that reminded me that a while back, Nancy posted a link to this Survey of American Jewish Language. I found it fun and fascinating and kept meaning to post it here but never got around to it until today. You should give it a whirl, even if you're not Jewish—really!

I grew up hearing my parents sprinkle Yiddish words and phrases into their conversations—particularly, I suspect, when they didn't want us kids to understand what they were saying, but also because there are loads of Yiddish words that have no ready English counterpart. How else are you going to say "plotz" or "meshugas"?

Then I had to go dig up this passage from Philip Roth's novel Portnoy's Complaint:

The novelist, what's his name, Markfield, has written in a story somewhere that until he was fourteen he believed "aggravation" to be a Jewish word. Well, this was what I thought about "tumult" and "bedlam," two favorite nouns of my mother's. Also "spatula."

(I had to look up Wallace Markfield—never read him.) Although I can see what he means about "tumult," I don't recall ever thinking that an English word was really Yiddish. On the other hand, I do remember being surprised to find out that certain English words in fact came from the Yiddish, like "maven" and "glitch" and "spiel." So many Yiddish words are now heard commonly everywhere, like "schmooze," "klutz," "tush," "schlep," "nosh," and "shtick," among others, that they're in most English dictionaries.

[Update 3/8/11: For some reason this post seems to attract more spam than usual, so I'm hereby closing off comments. If you have something non-spammy to add to the conversation, please email me!]

Comments

[Naomi]

Funny you should mention. One of tonight's bedtime selections was Kibitzers and Fools, by Simms Taback, a delicious collection of anecdotes, each in explication of a Yiddish phrase or saying. ("I need a tourniquet," didn't make the cut, for some reason.) What I love about this book is that it's a picture book, and therefore enjoyable for the kids, and it's a jokebook, and therefore enjoyable for any of the adults who enjoys Yiddish/Jewish humor. I'm still chuckling over the one about mistaken identity!

As for the Chabon, it's not his best (I am partial to Kav & Clay) but even when he's not exquisite he's damn good. He writes the most beautiful sentences of anyone I have read recently, and the passage in Policemen's Union about the loneliest Jew in Sitka is bringing tears to my eyes as I sit at the computer and remember reading (and re-reading) it.

Oh, and one more thing: Until (shockingly) recently I thought that an acceptable synonym for spatula was latkedatzer. Apparently my mom really did make that one up.

[B.O.B.(bob)]

love, love, loved The Yiddish Policemen's Union. Best book I read last year, no contest. I liked it better than Kavalier & Klay (and I liked that a lot). I highly recommend it. If you like detective novels at all you should love it.

I wouldn't recommend his other book from last year though (Gentlemen of the Road) . Found it kind of boring and it's supposed to be an fantasy/action story.

[Margaret]

I couldn't get into the Policeman's Union, so I turned it back into the library. It should have been a book I loved since it's the genre I like, but I didn't understand the first 50 pages--and that's my limit!

[Ken George]

I love Yiddish.

And it was former WBUR Arts reporter Bill Marx who enriched by vocabulary immensely. From him I learned “Zagat.”

(Bill comes from an interesting background. Father worked in a kosher abattoir and had high hopes for his son, but Bill just couldn’t stomach the family trade.)

And down the hall from my former desk, one of the freelances had the cover of “Born to Kvetch” tacked to the bulletin board. That cover is priceless.

Speaking of Yiddish, this multimedia piece about Isaac Singer is most certainly worth the time:

http://www.wbur.org/special/isaacsinger/exhibit.asp

[Karen]

Ken, you reminded me that I meant to mention in my post that you can tell who really knows Yiddish and who doesn't by listening to whether they pronounce "kvetch" with 1 syllable or 2. (It should be the former.) :-)

[Ken George]

I am finding it hard with the one syllable.
Will likely have plenty of opportunity to practice as I am flying out in the early a.m. and am convinced the plane will be delayed.

Sorry for the delay in getting you the goods.
I brought them home Friday and hope to mail
upon my return. Please don't kvetch!