Archive | 2016/01/02

Ksiazki: Rzeczywistość poprzecierana – Piotr Paziński

Wydawnictwo AUSTERIAKsiazki:  Rzeczywistość poprzecierana – Piotr Paziński

  Piotr Pazinski


[ W Warszawie książka trafiła wreszcie do księgarni Liber na Krakowskim Przedmieściu, czyli tzw. księgarni w mieście. Można ją tam poprzeglądać, pomacać okładkę, zerknąć na skrzydełko, a nawet kupić, jeśli kto czuje taką potrzebę. ]

Poszło. Ale ponieważ drukarniane młyny mielą wolno, to rzecz ukaże się pod koniec listopada, tak zapowiada Wydawnictwo_Austeria. Ja póki co mogę się co najwyżej pochwalić okładką i zamieścić spis treści, żeby Czytelniczkom i Czytelnikom ułatwić decyzję, czy już teraz odkładać kasę na egzemplarz, czy zaczekać na lekturę w jakiejś księgarnio-kawiarni, czy w ogóle sobie darować. W stosownym czasie zamieszczę również wstęp, żeby dawkować tzw. napięcie i w ogóle. Tutaj podaję w nawiasach, o kim z grubsza będzie mowa w poszczególnych rozdziałach, żeby wszystko było jasne jak słońce. Większość tekstów była tu i ówdzie publikowana, do książki trafiły gruntownie zredagowane, a po części – napisane na nowo, więc… Reszta informacji w linku. Daty trasy koncertowej, obejmującej miasto stołeczne Warszawa i miasto królewskie Kraków, a może też inne ośrodki, zostaną podane do wiadomości w terminie późniejszym. smile emoticon

Biblioteka, Księga, Ogród (Jorge Luis Borges);
Odyseusz w zamkowych komnatach (Franz Kafka & James Joyce);
Krosna Penelopy (James Joyce);
Rzeczywistość poprzecierana (Bruno Schulz);
W płatkach śniegu (Paul Celan);
Beth w domu umarłych (Paul Celan);
Historia pewnego odwrócenia (Paul Celan);
Projekt: Izaak Cylkow (Izaak Cylkow);
Stary polski Bialik (Chaim Nachman Bialik);
Krajobraz z oszronionym oknem (Jerzy Ficowski & Bruno Schulz);
Atrapy pamięci (Tadeusz Kantor).

Aha, jeszcze jedno: ‘Rzeczywistość poprzecierana’ zawdzięcza ostateczny kształt wielu osobom, najwięcej jednak dwóm środowiskom, z którymi na co dzień jestem związany: redakcji pisma Midrasz placówce znanej jako Uniwersytet Muri im. Franza Kafki, ich atmosferze intelektualnej i toczonym sporom o literaturę, filozofię i tradycję żydowską. Bez nich książka by nie powstała, toteż winien im jestem najserdeczniejsze podziękowania. Dziękuję również wszystkim, których zamęczałem – osobiście, telefonicznie, listownie, na spacerach i w knajpach – przez długie miesiące szlifowania ostatecznej wersji tekstów. Pani Annie Pawlikowskiej dziękuję oddzielnie za troskliwą opiekę redakcyjną.


Zamow ksiazke tu: Rzeczywistość poprzecierana Wydawnictwo AUSTERIA

autor: Piotr Paziński

Wracam tu do starych znajomych: Joyce’a, Kafki i Schulza, sięgam po postaci nowe (Celan, Cylkow, Bialik). Próbuję zmierzyć się z twórcą może dla mnie najważniejszym – Tadeuszem Kantorem – i zrozumieć hipnotyczny wpływ, jaki wciąż na mnie wywiera. W tym sensie jest to książka osobista, chociaż staram się unikać osobistego tonu, oddając głos samej literaturze. To ona jest i powinna być bohaterką pierwszoplanową.
Czytelniczce albo Czytelnikowi na pewno rzuci się w oczy rozmaitość wątków tkackich. Powód jest prosty. Otóż w niejednej tradycji i niejednej kulturze czynność tkania kojarzona bywa ze snuciem opowieści, a gotowa tkanina – z tekstem, który mieni się znaczeniami i określa z osobna los każdego człowieka. Ale również tkanie i pisanie mają ze sobą wiele wspólnego. I tu, i tam chodzi przecież o trwałe i oryginalne splecenie wątku i osnowy. A w praktyce – o ciężką robotę, która polega na ustawicznym pruciu i zawęźlaniu nitek symbolizujących warstwy sensów, języków i tradycji, pamięci i rzeczy niepamiętanych, wpływów i nawiązań symbolizujących także pojedyncze ludzkie głosy. Te znowuż są najlepiej słyszalne w prześwitach i ubytkach tekstu. W przetarciach widać i słychać więcej, i to one najbardziej mnie interesują.


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Honoring the Moroccan King Who Saved the Jews

Honoring the Moroccan King Who Saved the Jews

Anne Cohen


The line to enter New York City’s B’nai Jeshurun synagogue on Sunday night went around the block.

But the 700 people who crowded the sidewalk on West 88th street weren’t there for services. Or for a wedding. Or a late-night bar mitzvah.

They came to celebrate a king — a Moroccan king, to be exact.

The ceremony, organized by the KIVUNIM: The Institute for World Jewish Studies as part of their three-day 10th anniversary conference, celebrated the creation of The Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. – Rabbi Abraham Heschel Award and its first recipient, the late King Mohammed V of Morocco, who protected the country’s 250,000 Jews from the occupying Vichy French forces and the Nazis during World War II.

In the early 1940s, Morocco was still a French protectorate controlled by the pro-Vichy government. When, in 1941, the occupying forces attempted to enact legislation discriminating against Jews, the king — only 32 at the time — refused. “There are no Jews in Morocco, only subjects,” Mohammed V reportedly said.

“Thanks to the strong decision of the sovereign, [the] Moroccan Jewish community was neither detained nor deported or murdered in concentration camps,” said Serge Berdugo, secretary general of the Jewish communities of Morocco and ambassador-at-large. “All Moroccans, Jews or Muslims, enjoyed his full protection.”

This award, Berdugo continued, represents the American Jewish community’s ”recognition of the deep convictions, the moral approach and brave policy,” of the late ruler, who died in 1961.

Image: Wikimedia Commons / King Mohammed V of Morocco

King Mohammed V of MoroccoPeter Geffen, founder and executive director of KIVUNIM, a gap-year program which allows students to travel around the world to learn about Jewish life in the diaspora, was overjoyed by the turnout.

“Here you have a majestic story that we have all allowed to remain unknown,” he said. “This story has the power to inspire, and challenge the entire way we view a situation and a people.”

Princess Lalla Hasna, Mohammed V’s granddaughter and sister to Morocco’s King Mohammed VI (and wearing a caftan of Jewish embroidery), accepted the award designed by Jay Greenspan. KIVUNIM alumni also presented the princess with a “khata” scarf of the Buddhist tradition given to the organization by the Dalai Lama.

Andre Azoulay, a Jewish advisor to the king, read out an official speech on his behalf.

“Speaking to you as 2015 draws to a close, I am sure you realize that my understanding of the honor bestowed on the Kingdom of Morocco tonight is more than a mere reminder of an exemplary page of history written more than 70 years ago,” he said.

“Today, we need, more than ever, to ponder the lessons and relevance of this part of history in order to stand up more forcefully to the deadly aberrations of those who are hijacking our cultures, our faiths and our civilizations. We are living at a time and in a world in which the collective imagination of our societies is too often impaired, not to say poisoned, by regression and archaism. By capitalizing on the depth and resilience of the legacy left by my revered grandfather His Majesty Mohammed V, we can, together, set out to recover the lost expanses of reason and mutual respect which have vanished from many parts of the world.”

The king’s words are especially timely. In October, JTA reported that the Simon Wiesenthal Center “expressed concern at what it described as a proliferation of expressions of anti-Semitism in Morocco” after a pro-Palestinian demonstration in Casablanca featured men dressed as Orthodox Jews being led away to a fake execution. In 2013, two bills aiming to criminalize trade with Israel were introduced to the country’s Parliament. Neither one has been passed into law.

Rabbi Gad Bouskila of Brooklyn’s Netivot Israel Congregation opened the festivities with a traditional Moroccan prayer for the king. B’nai Jeshurun’s Rabbi Jose Rolando Matalon then joined Imam Id Youssef Hassan of Farouk Mosque in reciting a blessing of peace.

KIVUNIM students travel to twelve countries each year, including India, Greece, Turkey, Germany, Hungary, Czech Republic and, of course, Morocco. In 2011, KIVUNIM co-sponsored the first Holocaust conference in the Arab world with the Mimouna Foundation, their Muslim student partners, at Al-Akawayne University in Ifrane, Morocco.

United States Ambassador-at-Large for International Religious Freedom David Saperstein, representing the government, acknowledged the program’s contributions.

“I’m honored to be here with KIVUNIM,” he said. “The hundreds of American Jews who, through KIVUNIM, have studied Arabic, learned about the Islamic religion, studied about and traveled to Morocco — where, most importantly, they have built lasting relations with people who are at once so different and so much the same as themselves. This is a message of hope to all people of goodwill today.”

Peter Geffen speaks to the crowd in Manhattan’s B’nai Jeshurun synagogue. / Image: Asher Krell
Peter Geffen speaks to the crowd in Manhattan's B'nai Jeshurun synagogue.

Other attendees included Morocco’s Ambassador to the United States Rachad Bouhlal, U.S. Ambassador to Morocco Dwight Bush and Ambassador, Permanent Representative of Morocco to the United Nations, Omar Hilale.

A joint concert of Jewish and Arabic music by David Broza and Mira Awad wrapped up the celebration.

For Geffen, Sunday’s event summed up his organization’s mission to create a “differently informed Jew for the future of the world.”

“We are among the most intellectual of peoples and our diaspora has been the most enriching experience in our people’s history,” he said. “This is not the end, this is the beginning.”


Anne Cohen
Anne Cohen

Anne Cohen is the Forward’s deputy digital media editor. When she’s not looking for the secret Jewish history of Voodoo in New Orleans, or making lists about Ruth Bader Ginsburg , she writes for The Assimilator. She graduated from the Columbia Graduate School of Journalism with an M.S. magazine concentration in 2012.


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How Much Polish Is There in Yiddish (and How Much Yidddish Is There in Polish)?

How Much Polish Is There in Yiddish (and How Much Yidddish Is There in Polish)?

Mikołaj Gliński


For centuries, Yiddish was the language of the Ashkenazi Jews of Eastern Europe. Nowadays it is rarely spoken, but lives on in the texts of Yiddish literature and the minds of Yiddish scholars who have strived to analyze its complex composition.

This article is an introduction to Yiddish’s complicated linguistic relation with Slavic languages in general and with Polish in particular.

With its German grammatical structure and the bulk of its vocabulary coming from German, Yiddish is usually classified as a Germanic tongue. But being a ‘mixed’ language, Yiddish has also had a couple of other languages impacting its structure and vocabulary – the most important components being Hebrew and the Slavic languages. Among the latter Polish may have played a key role. Here’s how and why.

How much Polish is there in Yiddish?

While the idea of a mixed language may be itself a bit controversial (every language is a mixed language in a way – those versed in the history of the English language know it best) Yiddish was to a much greater extent subject to influences from other languages. Additionally the very character of it being a mixed language goes further than in the case of many other languages (as you’ll see below).

In regard to Yiddish vocabulary it is estimated that the Germanic element makes up some 70-75 percent of the overall lexicon. The remaining 15-20 percent words come from Hebrew, while the Slavic element is estimated at 10-15 percent (an additional couple of percent is of early Romance origin).

While the German and Hebrew could have been there right from the start (note: early Yiddish developed from Middle High German dialects) the impact of the so-called Slavic component comes later and obviously couldn’t have started before Jews began migrating to the east. This migration took most of the Jewish nation to Poland. It is precisely there, around the 14th century, that the Yiddish language as we know it took shape.

Yiddishland

During the time of the massive influx of Jewish people from Germany in the late Middle Ages, Poland served as a departure point for further Jewish migrations to the east. This helps to explain the huge range of Polonisms across the whole area of Eastern Yiddish (the so-called Yiddishland) regardless of the dialect spoken of the area. (In Eastern Europe, Yiddish is generally divided into 3 major dialects: Polish, Litvish, and Ukrainian – each of them reflecting the characteristic features of the local substrate language). That’s why many of the Slavic words, constructions, etc in Yiddish can be identified ultimately as Polish, in contrast to other possible Slavic sources: that is Czech, Belarusian and Ukrainian (the influence of Russian on Yiddish comes much later, only in the 19th century). In fact, the influence of those languages on Yiddish was usually limited to the local variant of the language. To put it simply, Yiddish’s contact with Polish was the earliest and lasted for the longest time.

Where to look for Polish in Yiddish?

Linguists have identified certain cultural areas where Polish (and Slavic in general) is to be found in Yiddish. While the German component covers the most basic vocabulary and the Hebrew loanwords are reserved primarily for the areas of ritual, morality, religious and mental aspects of life as well as social conditions of Jewish life, Slavic loanwords are present in an altogether different context.

They come usually in connection with household items and activities, immediate surroundings of the dwelling, family and professional life, as well as emotional states. Compare words like: bulke (bun), smetene (sour-cream), bieda (poverty), shpilke (pin), kopite (horse’s hoof), khlipen (to sob), muchen zich, and nebekh.

Polish words in Yiddish

While the above selection represents words that came to Yiddish from Slavic languages in general, linguists have also attempted to pinpoint words that came to Yiddish directly from Polish. Here’s a sample list of words identified as of Polish origin by the famous Yiddishist Max Weinreich:

blondzen, blonken (Pol. błądzić, błąkać się) – stray
gombe/gembe (Pol. Gęba) – chin
glomb (głąb) – stalk
demb (dąb) – oak
drong (drąg) – pole
vontse (wąsy) – moustache
vend(k)e (wędka) – fishing rod
temp (tępy) – dull
khromske (< chrząstka) – cartilage
lonke (łąka) – meadow
parondkes (porządki) – cleaning
parentsh (poręcz) – railing
plonte(r)n (plątać) – to confuse
penten (pętać) – to fetter
penkher (pęcherz) – bladder
prent (pręt) – rod
kurtshente (kurczę / pl. kurczęta) – [dial.] hen
rond (rząd) – row

You’ve probably noticed that many of these Yiddish words feature some combination of -en-, -on-, -em-, or -om- which all reflect the nasal sounds of -ą, and ę in the Polish original. This often serves as the ultimate proof that a word was introduced into Yiddish through Polish, as it’s the only Slavic language which retained the ancient Slavic nasal vowels.

According to Professor Ewa Geller some of the most frequent Polonisms in Yiddish include: tate, mame, bobe (grandma, Pol. babcia), zeyde (grandpa – Pol. dziadek), khapn (grab), kachke (duck), drimlen (snooze, Pol. drzemać), as well as particles: ci (czy), take (indeed), chocz (choć).

But which Yiddish?

However the question of how much Polish is in Yiddish begs another question, namely: which Yiddish? The Yiddish language in Eastern Europe differed not only geographically. The language varied heavily depending on the register of the language and its immediate context. These to a great extent defined the amount of Slavisms (Polonisms) included in a given text. As Professor Ewa Geller suggests, the register of Yiddish where the number of Slavic loanwords was the highest was the spoken colloquial Yiddish. The Slavic element also came to the fore in the language of the press, poetry and folk songs.

However, in other discourses and registers the number of Slavisms could have been very low, concludes Geller. As a result, there are registers of Yiddish that would have very little Slavic elements – for example poetry, especially in its high, religious, or elevated manifestations, would have been very likely devoid of any Slavic elements.

At the same time, there were writers, like Yitskhok Leybush Peretz, whose work was much dependent on the Polish idiom. Based in Warsaw and considered the father of modern Yiddish literature, Peretz very much relied on Polonisms in his style. As Natalia Krynicka suggests, Peretz’s readers not familiar with the Polish language have always had a hard time understanding some of the linguistic peculiarities in his work.

Yiddish morphology, or the ultimate mixed language

Though words may be the most conspicuous element of a language, they are by far not the most important element of language system. Apart from vocabulary, the Slavic element has also influenced Yiddish grammar and morphology. And ways in which it did so really justify the term ‘mixed’ language – and have made linguists scratch their heads talking of interlingual interferences, transferences, loanshifts, borrowings, and contaminations. But one could also say here’s where Yiddish is at its most creative – or, for that sake, at its most Polish.

Contamination

One of the characteristic features of Yiddish morphology is the so-called morpheme contamination, which means that Yiddish words are often made of different elements coming from different languages (heterogenic is the proper scientific term). Compare such word formations as:

sosnewald (pine forest) – which combines the Slavic word sosne (pine tree) + Ger. wald (forest)

or

golmeser (razor) – Pol. golić (shave) + Ger. Messer (knife)

tempkeyt – which means ‘dumbness’ (but is much more expressive), combines Slavic root temp- (< Pol. tępy = dumb) and the German sufix -keyt.

The same as with the word:

tupenish – which means ‘scurry (of footsteps)’; the word combines of Slavic root ‘tup’- (Pol. tupać – patter, scurry) and German suffix -‘nisch’

The mixed character of Yiddish makes it at times extremely hard to define the derivation of the original elements of a Yiddish word. One good example is the word:

pameylekh – slowly; This word is usually explained as combining German allmählich or gemächlich (both mean gradually) and Polish word pomału (slowly)

or

pomeshaf – dishwater; this word combines the Polish word pomyje and the German suffix -schaft

baych – whip; is an even more complicated case as it combines Polish bicz and German Peitsche, forming a perfect synthesis.

Of course a contamination can pertain to other languages too, like Hebrew and Slavic:

tamewate – dumb; Hebr. tame (stupid) + Slavic adj. suffix -waty.

Yiddish even has what Yiddishists call artificial loanwords. This means that the word which you borrow and which enters the language doesn’t actually exist in the original language. Take for exaple:

tate-mame – this is the Yiddish word for ‘parents’. While these two words, taken separately, are Slavic words for mum and dad (tata, mama), there’s no such phrase as tate-mame (tata-mama) in Polish or any Slavic language.

Contaminated Verbs

And now for verbs. A more complicated case of contamination may be:

nochshladeven – this verb (meaning to imitate) looks like a contamination of German nachahmen or nachmachen and Polish naśladować (all of them basically sharing the same meaning of imitating). [The linguistic term for the latter example would be a hybrid construction (loanblend)]

As you can see Yiddish is quite liberal in mixing roots coming from different languages. Take for example the Yiddish verb:

unterganvenen – (pod-kraść) this verb is built with German praefix unter (under) and Yid. verb ganvenen (to steal) which itself is a contamination made up of Hebrew root gnv and German -en infinitive suffix. While on the morphological level this word mixes two languages (Hebrew and German), the sense of unter- is likely influenced by the semantic field of the Polish prefix pod- (compare – podkraść)

The same goes for:

araynganvenen zich – while all morphemes of this word should suggest German and Hebrew as original tongues, the overall sense of the word meaning sneak/slip into points to Polish as the source for its semantic development (Comp. Pol. wkraść się)

Another case of words identified as Slavisms in Yiddish are verbs: rateven – to save, rabeven – to loot, mordeven – to kill. Although the word roots may suggest German at first (retten, robben, morden), they all came into Yiddish from Slavic languages (possibly Polish). This is plain when one compares Polish words: ratować, rabować, mordować.

The same kind of -ow-/-ew- infix can be found in pure Slavisms (or Polonisms), like:

pratseven – to work (pracować)

shaneven – to respect (szanować)

…and even Hebraisms, like:

balabetewen – to run a household, which mixes Heb. balebos + Slavic -ew- + Germ. verb infinitive suffix -en

Slavic Interferences, or German Mistakes

Interference is another linguistic term that could help to explain what’s happening within Yiddish words – in fact, what’s happening between languages. The process of interference may seem at first similar to that of a mistake which one makes while trying to speak a new language. Usually, learning a new language one would simply bring along the characteristic linguistic features of one’s own native tongue and incorporate them into the new language. But while in a language class this would be considered a mistake, in Yiddish constructions which resulted from such interferences have gained the full right of existence. More than this, they even came to epitomize the unique character of the language.

  • shpiln zikh – a verb which in Yiddish means to play. In German spielen is not a transitive verb, and it doesn’t come with sich. Yid. shpiln zich arose as an interference with Polish bawić się. The same goes for:
  • ich dershrek zich – I’m scared (the interfering Polish phrase is: boję się).
  • In lakhn fun (laugh about something) or greser fun (bigger than) the usage of fun results from interference with Polish phrases which use different particles than German: śmiać się z czegoś (lachen ueber etw) and większy od (Ger. groesser als).
  • Professor Geller suggests that such constructions may be reminiscent of mistakes made by Poles – and Slavs in general – learning German.

Also the traditional popular way to say “What’s up?” in Yiddish – Vos hert zikh? – appears to be an interference drawing on Polish Co słychać?

In other verbs you can observe how the German prefix takes on the sense of the Slavic prefix to form a new word. These are called calques by linguists, which means that they are word-for-word (or root-for-root) translations from one language into another. One good example is:

iberbetn – this Yiddish word means ‘to apologize’, the German equivalent would be “sich entschuldigen” which makes clear that iberbetn has nothing to do with the German substrate; but it has a lot to do with Polish przeprosić which it imitates (or nachshladevet, to use the Yiddish word). Linguists would call it a loanshift.

Yiddish Slavic Syntax

If you thought transference is reserved for morphology only, here’s a look at how it can shape also the very syntax of a language (this is called syntactical transference):

Unlike German, Yiddish has participle constructions which closely follow the model of the Polish/Slavic participle:

Jakub hot geredt nisht gloybendik di eigene verter (Jacob spoke not believing in his won words)

In the above example the participle has the power of adverb – this mimics the way participle can be used in Slavic languages.

You might have heard of Slavic double and multiple negation. Here’s how it looks in Yiddish:

Ich vil nit keyn epl – I don’t want an apple (Germ. Ich will kein Apfel)

The following is a more complicated case:

Ober Gershn hot zich far keynem nisht ibershrokn – (Eng. Gershn wasn’t scared of anyone; Ger. Gerschon hat sich von niemandem erschrocken; Pol. Gerszon nie bał się nikogo)

The same goes for negation in imperative sentences. For example one could say in Yiddish:

Nit zuch mich! (Don’t look for me!) – which looks like a perfect literal translation from Polish (or other Slavic Language)

By now you won’t be surprised to learn that Yiddish uses Slavic constructions for ‘playing piano’ or “inviting someone to the wedding’: shpilen oyf fortepian or farbetn oyf khasene.

In both cases oyf is taken straight from Slavic rection. But note also farbetn: As you sure know by now it’s an obvious calque – comp. Pol. za-prosić (far-betn) – invite.

Yiddish also translated whole Slavic phrases which would have been otherwise extremely difficult to understand, like:

vi keyn mol gornisht – which is a way to say in Yiddish “As if nothing had happened” – if you wondered about the sense of the words in Yiddish phrase compare Polish “jakby nigdy nic”.

Particles – those little Slavic words

Those little unaccented words that you attach to words and phrases in Slavic languages are called particles – and Yiddish likes them a lot, especially Slavic to and zhe which it uses for expressive effect. In fact even the harshest commands in Yiddish can be softened by appropriate insertion of the unstressed Slavic-derived particles to and zhe, for example:

To kúm-zhe – which can be translated as “Then come, won’t you please now?’

Another little Slavic word Yiddish likes a lot is abi (Polish aby). When used in a popular phrase like “Abi gezunt” it is usually translated as “As long as you’re healthy [you can be happy].”

 

Read more: How Much Polish Is….


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