I didn't know what to make of what Borges makes of Jews. My first
impressions did not accord with the assessment of academic Evelyn
Fishburn, who wrote,
Borges' philosemitism is not at issue here: his credentials in this respect must satisfy all but the most paranoid.
Well call me paranoid.
Philosemitism didn't occur to me when I read the following description of "Aaron Loewenthal" in Borges' short story, "Emma Zunz" (from his 1949 collection, The Aleph):
That said, I do not think Borges is anti-Semitic. As J.M. Coetzee writes of Borges in The New York Review of Books,
Rather than being an expression of anti-Semitism, I think Aaron Loewenthal is simply a function of Borges' generally weak skills at characterization. In Borges' quick sketches, readers find many characters capable of grand action and exhilarating thinking, but very little in the way of deep psychological and emotional portrayals. (Indeed, Fishburn votes for Emma Zunz herself as being Borges' most fully fleshed-out character: "his only moderately developed character is female; also Jewish, manipulative and murderous; and uniquely pitiable"). This being the case, I think that when Borges reached for a character description of Aaron Loewenthal, he defaulted to the "Jewish miser" stereotype. So ingrained was this stereotype into the world in which Borges lived that his invocation of its broad form may have seemed "right" to him as a description of a Jew. I doubt seriously that Borges even recognized in Aaron Loewenthal an anti-Semitic stereotype.
All the same, whether Borges was philosemitic or merely interested in Kabbalah (and even if he was prey to the anti-Semitic stereotypes of his day), I don't recognize myself, as a Jew, or as a Jewish woman, in Borges. What Borges makes of Jews, however thought-worthy, doesn't strike me as Jewish.
(Image of Borges' El Aleph from Antiqbook.com)
Borges' philosemitism is not at issue here: his credentials in this respect must satisfy all but the most paranoid.
Well call me paranoid.
Philosemitism didn't occur to me when I read the following description of "Aaron Loewenthal" in Borges' short story, "Emma Zunz" (from his 1949 collection, The Aleph):
Aaron Loewenthal was in the eyes of all an upright man; in those of his few closest acquaintances, a miser. . . . The year before, he had decorously grieved the unexpected death of his wife - a Gauss! who'd brought him an excellent dowry! - but money was his true passion. With secret shame, he knew he was not as good at earning it as at holding on to it. He was quite religious; he believed he had a secret pact with the Lord - in return for prayers and devotions, he was exempted from doing good works.Fishburn doesn't quote this rigidly stereotypical character description in her discussion of "Emma Zunz," but she does say:
The story is placed almost entirely within the confines of the Jewish world of Buenos Aires around the year 1922 and includes scenes of embezzlement, prostitution, lies, betrayal and cold-blooded, premeditated murder, thus opening up the social and moral range of Borges' Jewish imaginary."Thus opening up the social and moral range of Borges' Jewish imaginary"? Is Fishburn somehow suggesting that Borges is immune to common anti-Semitic stereotypes of Jews that cast them as embezzlers, liars, betrayers, cold-blooded premeditated murderers (blood of Christian children in the Passover matzoh), etc.? Without in any way suggesting that depictions of Jews should be immune from the full range of human behavior in which they (and all groups of humans) engage, I can't see anything laudatory about Borges descending to depict Jews consistently with anti-Semitic stereotypes.
That said, I do not think Borges is anti-Semitic. As J.M. Coetzee writes of Borges in The New York Review of Books,
Englishness was one part of Borges's self-fashioning, Jewishness another. He invoked a rather hypothetical Sephardic strain on his mother's side to explain his interest in the Kabbalah, and, more interestingly, to present himself as an outsider to Western culture, with an outsider's freedom to criticize and innovate.Much as Borges might have been an example of the much-loved Jewish stereotype of the "self-hating Jew," much more likely (in my opinion) is that he extended to Judaism the same openness, curiosity and delight that he obviously shows in Islam and other traditions of long lineage in which he found interesting engagement with large questions of theology, time, existence and reality.
Rather than being an expression of anti-Semitism, I think Aaron Loewenthal is simply a function of Borges' generally weak skills at characterization. In Borges' quick sketches, readers find many characters capable of grand action and exhilarating thinking, but very little in the way of deep psychological and emotional portrayals. (Indeed, Fishburn votes for Emma Zunz herself as being Borges' most fully fleshed-out character: "his only moderately developed character is female; also Jewish, manipulative and murderous; and uniquely pitiable"). This being the case, I think that when Borges reached for a character description of Aaron Loewenthal, he defaulted to the "Jewish miser" stereotype. So ingrained was this stereotype into the world in which Borges lived that his invocation of its broad form may have seemed "right" to him as a description of a Jew. I doubt seriously that Borges even recognized in Aaron Loewenthal an anti-Semitic stereotype.
All the same, whether Borges was philosemitic or merely interested in Kabbalah (and even if he was prey to the anti-Semitic stereotypes of his day), I don't recognize myself, as a Jew, or as a Jewish woman, in Borges. What Borges makes of Jews, however thought-worthy, doesn't strike me as Jewish.
(Image of Borges' El Aleph from Antiqbook.com)
Dear Maya,
It was thoughtful of you to send me a copy of your blog, and kind to mention you enjoyed my article, though in the light of yours, I wonder what exactly it is that you enjoyed …
Your objections are perfectly logical and justifiable within the parameters of your reading. From a moral, realist, perspective, these are undeniably despicable characters: there is no question that Loewenthal is based on an antisemitic stereotype, and you are not alone in taking issue with this surface level negative portrayal. But your comments regarding the characterization of Loewenthal suggest that you are looking for something which Borges neither promises nor is interested in delivering: he is simply not about a conventional depiction of rounded character in a neatly delineated moral social setting: he writes about abstract issues, such as, in this case, the difference between appearance and reality.
What I said about Emma was precisely to emphasize this aspect of the fiction, by mentioning her ‘moderate’ development as an exception. I’m afraid ‘fully fleshed’ does not come into it. And, as you note, I do not mince my words regarding Emma who is all that she can be accused of being in a realistic reading, and which I spell out, to get it out of the way, as it were, as an irrelevance. For such a focus ignores the metaphorical quality of the writing, the complexity between what is being said and how it is being said, and seems to miss the essence of the story, a laying bare of the rich, multilayerdness of reality.
I suggest that the duplicitous nature of both Emma and Loewenthal, their self-righteousness together with their impiety, underscore the crux of the story, the co-existence of opposing levels of 'truths'. I refer to the radical change in the motivation for Loewenthal’s murder (explained in my article), and which does not affect the execution of Emma’s dastardly plan. When she eventually kills Loewenthal she does so not, as planned, to avenge her father’s suffering but her mother’s, and by extension, her own. And yet her account of what happened is believed, because ‘essentially, her story was true’. It is for readers to work interpret in what ways.
My comments regarding the story’s ‘opening up the social and moral range of Borges’s imaginary’ show, clearly, I think, that the writer is not concerned with dealing in patronizing idealizations, but with all different kinds of ‘typical’ Jews, a multiplicity which by its implied variety and contradictions not only ironizes but quite demolishes the clichéd portrayals of Jewish characters. I confess that I am at a loss to see how you can arrive at your conclusion about a ‘consistent’ depiction of anti-Semitic stereotypes, particularly in the light of my discussion of Hladik, David Jerusalem, Zimmermann, and above all, Santiago Fischbein,
As an aside I find your allusion to the blood libel somewhat incendiary, not to say gratuitous, in the light of your admission that you do nor think Borges is anti-semitic, but it links in, humorously, I hope you will admit, to your initial quotation about ‘all but the most paranoic’. Let me place this remark in context: my article was published in a specialist journal devoted exclusively to Borges studies; its readership would be familiar with Borges's most positive attitude to Judaism and particularly to Israel (c.f. Coetzee, whom you quote); moreover, it would take certain basic tenets, such as irony, self-parody and above all the metaphoric dimension of his fiction as understood and basic to his work. The article also assumes familiarity with my other writing on Borges and Jewish topics, such as Cabbala and a brief discussion in an essay on humour. Your comments are making me aware that now that these articles having been placed on the intermet, I can no longer take this knowledge for granted, and should open up my arguments to address this wider readership. I am grateful to you for this.
With kindest regards,
Evelyn Fishburn
E. Fishburn
Professor Emeritus London Metropolitan University
Honorary Senior Research Fellow
University College London
Dear Professor Fishburn:
Thanks kindly for this most thoughtful, thorough and engaging response.
I believe our dialogue is a vivid example of the interaction between academic and lay discussion of literature, and I think the interplay is enriching to both. Would you object if I posted your e-mail reply as a comment on my blog so it can be more widely read?
"Incendiary," by the way, is (probably, sadly) correct. I didn't intend to be incendiary in my post, but unfortunately blogging is a format that lends itself too readily to the incendiary, and I can understand how I may have capitulated to the conventions of the medium. Your reply would be a lovely balance on the blog.
Thanks again and have a wonderful day.
Best regards,
Maya