[This
essay was published on the jbooks website as part of the
series "Secular Culture & Ideas," sponsored by the
Posen Foundation]
Jewish, Secular, and Popular
By
TED MERWIN
When
was secular Jewish culture born in the United States? The
short answer: later than most people think. While the seeds
of secular Jewish culture were sown on the Lower East Side
of New York at the turn of the 20th century, Yiddish
culture, in addition to being sealed off from the rest of
American society, was essentially backward-looking. Built
on nostalgia for the Old Country and its ways, it never
freed itself from its European past.
Only in the period between the two world wars, when Jews
began to join the mainstream of American society, could a
viable, vigorous, non-religious Judaism finally begin to
flower. When Jews became, in the words of historian Deborah
Dash Moore, “at home in America,” could they be
proudly Jewish and proudly American at the same time. The
children of Jewish immigrants, in flight from their
parents’ religion and traditional ways, sought to
meld their American-ness and their Jewishness, to re-invent
what it meant to be Jewish by shedding many of the
stereotypes that had made Jews seem unfit for full
participation in American society.
They did so, largely, through popular culture. Through
English-language comic strips, popular song, vaudeville,
theater and film—Jews remade their image in American
society, and in so doing changed the ways in which they saw
themselves as well. In other words, Jews developed a
secular identity both in and through Jewish culture,
through the very process of dramatizing their detachment
from religious orthodoxy.
Not incidentally, the representations and images of Jews in
popular entertainment reflected the patterns of New York
Jewish life. In the 1920s, Jews made up more than a quarter
of the overall population of New York City, and New York
Jews still comprised about half of all the Jews in America.
With the burst of prosperity that followed the First World
War, they were also highly mobile, and their very social
and economic mobility mirrored the flexibility of eye- and
body-movement that was the hallmark of so many Jewish
celebrities including Fanny Brice, Eddie Cantor, George
Jessel, Al Jolson, and Sophie Tucker.
Their movement was threefold: Jews moved out of the Lower
East Side, and into the newer Jewish neighborhoods in
Harlem, the Bronx, and Brooklyn. They moved from the lower
class into the lower middle class. And they moved away, in
conceptual terms, from religious observance—no longer
attending synagogue on a regular basis, keeping kosher, or
even celebrating many Jewish festivals. A national audience
followed these seismic shifts in Jewish life; they became
essential themes of much of the popular culture of the day.
Yet even as Jews increased their visibility and developed
non-religious forms of attachment to their heritage, they
still lived mainly in the company of other Jews. In their
memoirs of growing up in the Bronx and Brooklyn
respectively, Kate Simon and Alfred Kazin both recall that
they and their friends looked forward to going to the
movies every Saturday. Saturday was set apart as a day of
joy and recreation, and even as an occasion for group
cohesion, but no longer in a religious sense.
The cinema (in addition, one must add, to the delicatessen)
had indeed replaced the synagogue as the locus of Jewish
life. As Kazin remembered, “On my right hand the
‘Stadium’ movie house—the sanctuary every
Saturday afternoon of my childhood, the great dark place of
all my dream life. On my left the little wooden
synagogue… That poor worn synagogue could never in
my affections compete with that movie house, whose very
lounge looked and smelled to me like an Oriental
temple.” At a time when Jews were still freeing
themselves from exotic, “Oriental”
associations, it was the world of silent film that took on
mythic, larger-than-life dimensions in the popular
imagination.
But in addition to consuming popular culture with their
popcorn and soda, Jews also helped to create it. By the
early years of the 20th century, historians have estimated,
close to half of the entertainment business in New York was
already in Jewish hands. Nevertheless, Jews were depicted
on stage and screen in this early period as fiendish,
money-hungry, clumsy villains. It was only in the 1920s
that a large cadre of Jewish producers, actors, writers,
and directors could begin to alter the portrayals of their
own group, making them lifelike and sympathetic.
Dozens of Broadway plays and Hollywood films focused on
Jewish families as they worked out—or failed to work
out—conflicts between the generations, faced issues
over intermarriage and relations with other ethnic groups,
and explored the cost of ambition and personal success in
pulling the individual away from the community.
Some of these plays and films incorporated Jewish ritual
and references to Jewish religion, but the mezuzah was
likely to be on the wrong side of the doorpost and the food
not quite kosher. Religion was seen as outdated; the future
lay with a Jewishness that could adapt itself to the times,
creating new bonds between Jews not based on the
performance of Jewish ritual.
Furthermore, the barriers between Jews and non-Jews were
perceived as increasingly permeable. As Jews became more
secular, non-Jews became more attracted to aspects of
Jewish culture that now, freed from their religious
baggage, seemed more available and accessible. The appetite
of non-Jews for Jewish culture strengthened it, helping to
support everything from Jewish food to Jewish film.
The changing depiction of Jewish life on stage and screen
reinforced the movement of the Jewish audience in its
growing embrace of secularization. We often take our cues
from popular culture in terms of how to act and even how to
think. The message that Jews received from popular culture
was that the freedom and opportunity offered by America was
one that left it to the individual to define his or her
identity.
It has been often remarked that religious commitment tends
to wane as an individual prospers economically. As Jews
embarked on their legendary rise in America, most continued
to define themselves in secular terms, by virtue of an
ethnic identity rooted in culture rather than
religion. By the mid-20th century, a new generation
of Jewish performers had taken center stage (or center
screen)—Milton Berle, Sid Caesar, Phil Silvers, to
name just a few—all of whom continued in the
footsteps of the Jewish entertainers of the 1920s, who had
shown the country that you could celebrate and satirize
your roots at the same time, and through this process of
self-reflection, create a whole new form of Jewish
identity.