Film pays tribute to ‘Yiddish Mark Twain’
“While his focus was the Jewish community, his literary themes were universal.”
Mention the name Sholem Aleichem, and even those aware of the man may more than likely associate him with his best-known literary creation, Tevye the Dairyman, who went on to inspire Fiddler on the Roof, both on the Broadway stage and on screen.
The latter productions made for fine escape and were able to stress the author’s core value of “tradition,” yet they hardly reflected the bulk of Sholem Aleichem’s writings.
Sadly, too few are aware of the man behind Tevye, an author once dubbed the “Yiddish Mark Twain,” whose takes on Jewish culture and upheaval in Eastern Europe in the late 19th and early 20th centuries have been compared to those of such Russian masters as Chekhov and Gogol. Yet while his focus was the Jewish community, his literary themes were universal. Of course, Aleichem’s views on Russia, unlike the latter writers, were tainted a tad by growing up in a shtetl and witnessing pogroms that resulted in the deaths of scores of Jews, including family members.
For those in the dark as well as those in the know, writer/ director Joseph Dorman provides compelling insights into the life of one of the more misunderstood literary figures in Sholem Aleichem: Laughing in the Darkness, which opens Friday at the Cinéma du Parc. Through archival footage and testimony from scholars and writers, including Aleichem’s own granddaughter, 100-year-old Bel Kaufman (author of Up the Down Staircase), Dorman has woven together a fascinating chronicle.
Sholem Aleichem – meaning “peace to you” – was the pen name of Solomon Rabinovich, born in 1859 to a relatively successful merchant in a Russian shtetl. His childhood was relatively happy, until his father lost everything and the family was plunged into poverty. Then his mother died, and domestic chaos ensued when his dad remarried but neglected to tell his new spouse of his 12 kids.
And so the adventure began.
Young Rabinovich landed a job tutoring Olga, the daughter of a wealthy Jew.
He later eloped with her, much to the chagrin of her dad. And he began writing in Yiddish.
Thanks to his reluctant father-in-law, he went from being penniless in a shtetl to part of the upper-crust in Kiev, where he spent his days playing the market and writing.
While he was to have more than his share of cash woes later, he went on to become an architect of a Yiddish cultural revolution, encouraging and supporting other writers. He also morphed into Sholem Aleichem and was able to reach the masses through sa- tirical pieces he wrote under that name. He gave Eastern European Jews a voice and inspiration through his writing.
Although he wrote in Yiddish, he spoke Russian at home with his family. The irony was that his four daughters and two sons were unable to read his books.
As a result of the deadly pogroms, his family was forced to move around Europe before coming to New York. He was able to eke out a living, by writing and teaching, between the continents and establish a following, yet he remained a man on the run and troubled until the end.
When he passed away in 1916, more than 200,000 people attended his funeral in New York, reportedly the largest ever seen for a public farewell in the city.
As is the case with far too many artists, Sholem Aleichem’s posthumous career proved to be more lucrative and successful. And as one of the scholars in the documentary points out: “If only he had lived to see what he became after his death …” But even though the legend lives for some, that period of mass posthumous fame didn’t last long. Thanks to director Dorman, there could and should be renewed interest in the life and work of Sholem Aleichem.
Perhaps surprisingly, Dorman, too, had largely been in the dark about his subject before undertaking this project. He was aware of the Fiddler on the Roof connection, but that’s about it.
“I had the same embarrassment as too many others,” says Dorman, who is in Mont- real to talk about the documentary. “It is a measure of how profoundly cut off modern Jews have become from our own history.”
The idea to pursue the life of Sholem Aleichem was suggested by an academic scholar, whom Dorman had interviewed for his previous doc, Arguing the World, about a group of New York intellectuals, including the renowned Irvings, Howe and Kristol.
“Then I started reading his works and was taken aback. The first thing that hits you is that they are not schmaltz, as is too often the perception. He was a most sophisticated writer who created this folksy persona and who was writing for a non-sophisticated audience.
“But too often, people confused the artist with the persona. His disguise was so good that critics didn’t take him as seriously as they should have initially. While he was beloved by so many, he was not given his proper due.”
Dorman, 53, a native of Detroit, was late in starting his film career. Upon graduating from Brown University, he taught English in New York City. He “stumbled” into the film business when asked to teach a course on the history of the documentary at New York University. As well as his two directed efforts, he has written and/or produced four other documentaries.
His next project deals with the efforts of a Brooklyn pediatrician to make AIDS-afflicted mothers aware that they can pass on the disease to their babies.
“I’m under no illusions,” a smiling Dorman says. “My work brings me a lot of intellectual fulfilment but will also continue to keep me on the road to poverty.”