The author of a recent work on the history of culture among the Galician
Jews[44] has pointed out how at the end of the last century the
Mendelssohnian Reform, and with it worldly education, took its course
through Austria into Galicia, to appear half a century later in Russia.
This quicker awakening in the South was not due to geographical position
alone, but in a higher degree to political and social causes as well.
The language of enlightenment was at first naturally enough a modernized
form of the Hebrew, for the literary German was not easily accessible to
the Jews of Galicia in the period immediately following the division of
Poland. Besides, although books had been printed in Judeo-German for the
use of women and 'less knowing' men, the people with higher culture, to
whom alone the Mendelssohnian Reform could appeal, looked with disdain
on the profane dialect of daily intercourse. When, however, the time had
come to carry the new instruction to the masses, the latter had become
sufficiently familiar with the German language to be able to dispense
with the intermediary native Jargon.[45] Consequently little opportunity
was offered here for the development of a dialect literature.
While the Jews of the newly acquired provinces were becoming more and
more identified with their coreligionists of German Austria, their
Russian and Polish brethren in the Russian Empire were by force of
circumstances departing gradually from all but the religious union with
them, and were drifting into entirely new channels. Previous to the
reign of Nicholas I., their civil disabilities barred them from a closer
contact in language and feeling with their Gentile fellow-citizens,
while their distance from Germany excluded all intellectual relations
with that country. The masses were too downtrodden and ignorant to
develop out of themselves any other forms of literature than the one of
ethical instruction and stories current in the previous century. In the
meanwhile the Haskala, as the German school was called, had found its
way into Russia through Galicia, and such men as J. B. Levinsohn, A. B.
Gottlober, M. Gordon, Dr. S. Ettinger, had become its warmest advocates.
They threw themselves with all the ardor of their natures upon the new
doctrine, and tried to correct the neglected education of their
childhood by a thorough study of German culture. It was but natural for
them to pass by the opportunities offered in their country's language
and to seek enlightenment abroad: the Jews were a foreign nation at
home, without privileges or duties, except those of paying taxes, while
from Germany, their former abiding-place, there shone forth the promise
of a salvation from obscurantism and spiritual death. Henceforth the
word 'German' became in Russia the synonym of 'civilized,' and a
'German' was tantamount to 'reformed' and 'apostate' with the masses,
for to them culture could appear only as the opposite of their narrow
Ghetto lives and gross superstition.
The inauguration of the military regime by Nicholas was in reality only
meant as a first step in giving civil rights to the Jews of his realm;
this reform was later followed by the establishment of Rabbinical
schools at Wilna and Zhitomir, and the permission to enter the Gymnasia
and other institutions of learning. The Jews were, however, slow in
taking advantage of their new rights, as they had become accustomed to
look with contempt and fear on Gentile culture, and as they looked with
suspicion on the Danaid gifts of the government. The enlightened
minority of the Haskala, anxious to lead their brethren out of their
crass ignorance and stubborn opposition to the cultural efforts of the
Czar, began to address them in the native dialects of their immediate
surroundings and to elicit their attention almost against their will.
Knowing the weakness of the Jews for tunable songs, they began to supply
them with such in the popular vein, now composing one with the mere
intention to amuse, now to direct them to some new truth.[46] These
poems, like the dramas and prose writings by this school of writers
previous to the sixties, were not written down, but passed orally or in
manuscript form from town to town, from one end of Russia to the other,
often changing their verses and forming the basis for new popular
creations. The poet's name generally became dissociated from each
particular poem; nay, in the lapse of time the authors themselves found
it difficult to identify their spiritual children. An amusing incident
occurred some time ago when the venerable and highly reputed poet, J. L.
Gordon, had incorporated a parody of Heine's 'Two Grenadiers' among his
collection of popular poems, for a plain case was made out against him
by the real parodist. Gordon at once publicly apologized for his
unwitting theft by explaining how he had found it in manuscript among
his papers and had naturally assumed it to be his own production.[47]
Another similar mistake was made by Gottlober's daughter, who named to
me a dozen of current songs which she said belonged to her father,
having received that information from himself, but which on close
examination were all but one easily proven as belonging to other
poets.[48]
Most difficult of identification are now Gottlober's poems,[49] he
having never brought out himself a collective volume of his verses,
although he certainly must have written a great number of them as early
as the thirties when he published his comedy 'Dās Decktuch.' Those that
have been printed later in the periodicals are either translations or
remodellings of well-known poems in German, Russian, and Hebrew; but
even they have promptly been caught by the popular ear. The one
beginning 'Ich lach' sich vun euere Traten aus,' in which are depicted
humorously the joys of the Jewish recluse, has been pointed out by
Katzenellenbogen as a remodelling of a poem that appeared in a Vienna
periodical;[50] the sources of some of the others he mentions himself,
while the introductory poem in his comedy is a translation of Schiller's
'Der Jüngling am Bache.' From these facts it is probably fair to assume
that most, if not all, of his other poems are borrowings from other
literatures, preëminently German. This is also true of his other
productions, which will be mentioned in another place. Nevertheless he
deserves an honorable place among the popular poets, as his verses are
written in a pure dialect of the Southern variety,--he is a native of
Constantin in the Government of Volhynia,--and as they have been very
widely disseminated.
No one has exercised a greater influence on the succeeding generation of
bards than the Galician Wolf Ehrenkranz, better known as Welwel Zbarżer,
_i.e._ from Zbaraż, who half a century ago delighted small audiences in
Southern Russia with his large repertoire. There are still current
stories among those who used to know him then, of how they would entice
him to their houses and treat him to wine and more wine, of which he was
inordinately fond, how when his tongue was unloosened he would pour
forth improvised songs in endless succession, while some of his hearers
would write them down for Ehrenkranz's filing and finishing when he
returned to his sober moods. These he published later in five volumes,
beginning in the year 1865 and ending in 1878. While there had
previously appeared poems in Judeo-German in Russia, he did not dare to
publish them in Galicia except with a Hebrew translation, and this
method was even later, in the eighties, adopted by his countrymen
Apotheker and Schafir. Ehrenkranz has employed every variety of folksong
known to Judeo-German literature except historical and allegorical
subjects. Prominent among them are the songs of reflection. Such, for
example, is 'The Nightingale,' in which the bird complains of the
cruelty of men who expect him to sing sweetly to them while they enslave
him in a cage, but the nightingale is the poet who in spite of his
aspiration to fly heavenwards must sing to the crowd's taste, in order
to earn a living. In a similar way 'The Russian Tea-machine,' 'The
Mirror,' 'The Theatre,' and many others serve him only as excuses to
meditate on the vanity of life, the inconstancy of fortune, and so
forth.
'The Gold Watch' is one of a very common type of songs of dispute that
have been known to various literatures in previous times and that are
used up to the present by Jewish bards. They range in length from the
short folksong consisting of but one question and answer to a long
series of stanzas, or they may become the subject of long discussions
covering whole books. In 'The Gold Watch' the author accuses the watch
of being unjust in complaining and in allowing its heart to beat so
incessantly, since it enjoys the privilege of being worn by fine ladies
and gentlemen, of never growing old, of being clad in gold and precious
stones. Each stanza of the question ends with the words:
Wās fehlt dir, wās klapt dir dās Herz?
The watch's answer is that it must incessantly work, that it is
everybody's slave, that it is thrown away as useless as soon as it
stops. So, too, is man. Upon this follows what is generally known as a
_Zuspiel_, a byplay, a song treating the contrary of the previous matter
or serving as a conclusion to the same. The _Zuspiel_ to 'The Gold
Watch' is entitled ''Tis Best to Live without Worrying.' There is a
series of songs in his collection which might be respectively entitled
'Memento mori' and 'Memento vivere.' Such are 'The Tombstone' and 'The
Contented,' 'The Tombstone-cutter' and 'The Precentor,' 'The Cemetery,'
and 'While you Live, you Must not Think of Death.' The cemetery, the
gravedigger, the funeral, are themes which have a special fascination
for the Jewish popular singers, who nearly all of them have written
songs of the same character.
Another kind of popular poetry is that which deals with some important
event, such as 'The Cholera in the Year 1866,' or noteworthy occurrence,
as 'The Leipsic Fair,' which, however, like the previously mentioned
poems, serves only as a background for reflections. There are also,
oddly enough, a few verses of a purely lyrical nature in which praises
are sung to love and the beloved object. These would be entirely out of
place in a Jewish songbook of the middle of this century had they been
meant solely as lyrical utterances; but they are used by Ehrenkranz only
as precedents for his 'Zuspiele,' in which he makes a Khassid contrast
the un-Jewish love of the reformed Jew with his own blind adoration of
his miracle-working Rabbi. These latter, and the large number of Khassid
songs scattered through the five volumes, form a class for themselves.
The lightheartedness, ignorance, superstitions, and intemperance of
these fanatics form the butt of ridicule of all who have written in
Judeo-German in the last fifty years, but no one has so masterfully
handled the subject as Ehrenkranz, for he has treated it so deftly by
putting the songs in the mouth of a Khassid that half the time one is
not quite sure but that he is in earnest and the poems are meant as
glorifications of Khassidic blissfulness. It is only when one reads the
fine humor displayed in 'The Rabbi on the Ocean' that one is inclined to
believe that the extravagant miracles performed by the Rabbi were
ascribed to him in jest only. Owing to this quality of light raillery,
the songs have delighted not only the scoffers, but it is not at all
unusual to hear them recited by Khassidim themselves.
Ehrenkranz also has some songs in which are described the sorrows of
various occupations,--a kind of poetry more specially cultivated by
Berel Broder. Of the latter little is known except that he composed his
songs probably at a time anterior to those just mentioned, that he had
lived at Brody, hence his name, and that he had never published them.
They were collected by some one after his death and published several
times; however, it is likely that several of them are of other
authorship, as is certainly the case with 'The Wanderer,' which belongs
to Ehrenkranz. As has been said above, he prefers to dwell on the many
troubles that beset the various occupations of his countrymen, of the
shepherd, the gravedigger, the wagon-driver, the school teacher, the
go-between, the usurer, the precentor, the smuggler. They are all
arranged according to the same scheme, and begin with such lines as: 'I,
poor shepherd,' 'I, lame beadle,' 'I, miserable driver,' 'I, wretched
school teacher,' and so forth. The best of these, and one of the most
popular of the kind, is probably the 'Song of the Gravedigger.' Of the
two songs of dispute, 'Day and Night' and 'Shoemaker and Tailor,' the
first is remarkable in that each praises the other, instead of the more
common discussions in which the contending parties try to outrival one
another in the display of their virtues.
The style of these two Galicians and their very subject-matter were soon
appropriated by a very large class of folksingers in Russia who amuse
guests at wedding feasts. Before passing over to the writers in Russia
we shall mention the two other Galicians who, writing at a later time,
have remained unknown beyond their own country, but one of whom at least
deserves to be known to a larger circle of readers. The one, David
Apotheker, in his collection 'Die Leier,' pursues just such aims as his
Polish or Russian fellow-bards and is entirely without any local
coloring. The poems are written in a pure dialect, without any
admixture of German words, but their poetic value is small, as they are
much too didactic. Of far higher importance and literary worth are the
productions of his contemporary, Bajrach Benedikt Schafir. Being well
versed in German and Polish literature, he generally imitates the form
of the best poems in those languages and often paraphrases them for his
humble audiences. His language is now almost the literary German, now
his native dialect, according as he sings of high matters or in the
lighter vein. In the introduction to one of his earlier pamphlets
written in a pure German, he says that in Germanizing his native dialect
it has been his purpose so to purify the Jargon that it should become
intelligible even to German Jews. The most of his songs were collected
in 'Melodies from the Country near the River San.' These he divided into
four parts: Jewish national songs, songs of commemoration, songs of
feeling, and comical songs,--the first three, with an elegy on the death
of Moses Montefiore, forming the first part, the comical songs the
second part, of the collection.
The most of the comical songs are in the form of dialogues in which a
German, _i.e._ a Jew of the reformed church, discusses with a Khassid
the advantage of education; in others he describes the ignorance of the
latter. Many of them do not rise above the character of theatre
couplets, but in the lyrical part the tone is better, and in some of his
songs he rivals the best folksingers of Russia. His 'Midnight Prayer'
and 'Greeting to Zion' are touching expressions of longing for the
ancient home, just as 'Przemysl, You my Dear Cradle,' and
'Homesickness,' are full of yearning for his native country. Of the four
songs of commemoration, two deal on the famous accusation, in 1883, of
the use of Gentile blood by the Jews in the Passover ceremony, one
describes the fire in the Vienna Ring theatre, while another narrates a
similar catastrophe in the town of Sheniava.
As early as 1863[51] there was printed in Kiev a volume of songs under
the name of 'The Evil-tongued Wedding-jester,' by Izchak Joel Linetzki.
Before me lies a somewhat later edition of the book: it is published in
a form of rare attractiveness for those days and bears on the title-page
a picture of two men, one in European dress, the other in the garments
of a Khassid, in the attitude of discussion. This illustration has
appeared on all the subsequent editions of the same work; it expresses
the author's purpose, which becomes even more patent in his prose works,
to instruct the Khassidim in the advantages of culture, however, the few
poems in the book devoted to this differ from the usual unconditional
praise of reform, in that they point out that the servile imitator of
the Gentiles is no better than the stubborn advocate of the old regime.
Two of the poems are versified versions of the Psalms, and there are
also the usual songs of reflection, and a song of dispute between the
mirror and the clock. Two of the poems sing of the joys of May,
presenting the rare example of pure lyrics at that early time. These
alone will hold a comparison with the best of Ehrenkranz's songs; the
others are somewhat weak in diction and loose in execution.
Few poets have been so popular in Russia as Michel Gordon and S.
Berenstein were in the past generation, the first singing in the
Lithuanian variety of the language, the second in a southern dialect.
Both published their collections in Zhitomir in 1869, and Gordon wrote
an introductory poem for the book of his friend Berenstein. In this he
indicates the marked contrast that exists in the productions of the two.
While the first writes to chide superstition and ignorance, the other
sings out of pity for his suffering race; while the one sounds the
battle-cry of progress, the other consoles his brothers in their misery;
the one, fearing prosecution from the fanatic Khassidim whom he attacks,
sent his poems out into the world anonymously, the other signed his name
to them. And yet, however unlike in form and content, they were both
pervaded by a warm love for their people whom they were trying to
succor, each one in his own way.
Gordon's[52] poems are of a militant order:[53] he is not satisfied with
indicating the right road to culture, he also sounds the battle-cry of
advance. The keynote is struck in his famous 'Arise, my People!' 'Arise,
my people, you have slept long enough! Arise, and open your eyes! Why
has such a misfortune befallen you alone, that you are asleep until the
midday hour? The sun has now long been out upon the world; he has put
all men upon their feet, but you alone lie crouching and bent and keep
your eyes tightly closed.' In this poem he preaches to his race that
they should assimilate themselves in manners and culture to the ruling
people, that they should abandon their old-fashioned garments and
distinguishing characteristics of long beard and forelock, and that they
should exchange even the language in which he sings to them for the
literary language of the country.
Assimilation was the cry of all the earnest men among the Russian Jews
before the eighties, when the course of events put a damper on the
sanguine expectations from such a procedure. Many of his other poems are
of a humorous nature and have been enormously popular. In 'The Beard,' a
woman laments the loss of that hirsute appendage of her husband, who, by
shaving it off, had come to look like a despised 'German.' 'The Turnip
Soup' and 'I Cannot Understand' are excellent pictures of the ignorance
and superstitious awe of the Khassidim before their equally ignorant and
hypocritical Rabbis; other poems deal with the stupidity of the teachers
of children, and the undue use of spirituous drinks on all occasions of
life.
Two of his earliest poems are devoted to decrying the evil custom of
early marriages, in which the tastes of the contracting parties are not
at all considered. In the one entitled 'From the Marriage Baldachin,' he
paints in vivid colors the course of the married life of a Jew from the
wedding feast through the worries of an ever-increasing family, and the
helplessness of the father to provide for his children, with the
consequent breaking up of the family ties. The catching tune to which
the poem is sung, and all folksongs are naturally set to music,
generally by the authors themselves, and the lifelike picture which it
portrays, have done a great deal to diminish the practice; while the
other, 'My Advice,' addressed to a girl, advising her to exercise her
own free will and reasonable choice of her life's companion, has helped
to eliminate misery and to introduce the element of love in the marital
stage.
In his advocacy of reform, Gordon had in mind the clearing of the Jewish
religion from the accumulated superstitions of the ages which had almost
stifled its virgin simplicity, not an abandonment of any of its
fundamental principles in the ardent desire for assimilation. True
culture is, according to him, compatible with true piety, and a surface
culture, with its accompanying slackness of religious life, is
reprehensible. When he saw that so many had misunderstood the precepts
of those who taught a closer union with the Gentiles in that they
adopted the mere appearances of the foreign civilization and overthrew
the essential virtues of their own faith, he expressed his indignation
in 'The True Education and the False Education,' of which the final
stanza is:
True culture makes good and mild,
False culture makes bad and wild.
The truly-cultured is a fine man,
The falsely-cultured is a charlatan.
Gordon has also written a ballad, 'The Stepmother,' which has given rise
to a large number of popular imitations. In this he tells of a mother
whose rest in the grave is disturbed by the tears of her child. Upon
learning that the child has been maltreated by his stepmother, she sends
up her voice to God, interceding in her son's behalf, and then addresses
herself to her weeping child, assuring him that God has heard her
prayer.
Berenstein was no less cultured a man than Gordon. His acquaintance with
German literature is evidenced by his motto from Körner, an occasional
quotation from Schiller, and his several epigrams which he frankly
acknowledges as translations or adaptations of German originals. Thus
it happens that Schiller's 'Hoffnung' has been popularized among the
Russian Jews in the form of a stanza of a long poem, 'The False Hope.'
Except for these literary allusions, Berenstein wrote in the true
popular vein. His 'The Cradle,' in which he makes use of the well-known
verses, 'Hinter Jankeles Wiegele,' has become as universal as the oral
cradle song. Its last stanza enjoins the child to sleep well in order to
gather strength for the sufferings of the next day, and this pessimistic
view of life becomes ever after the prevailing tone in the many cradle
songs that have been written by younger men.[54] 'The Sleep' is a
variation on the motto from Körner's 'Tony,' which is put at the head of
it: 'Der Schlummer ist ja ein Friedenhauch vom Himmel--Schlummern kann
nur ein spiegelreines Herz.' 'Young Tears' is one of the very few love
lyrics that appeared in print before the second half of the eighties. In
'The Bar of Soap' Gordon shows that with soap one cannot wash off the
blot from his brow, the sorrow from his heart. 'The Empty Bottle'
describes the loneliness of him who has lost his wealth, and with it his
friends. As a 'byplay' to it follows a pretty lyric, 'Consolation.' A
'byplay' bearing the same name follows an elegy upon the death of an
only son. Several of the poems are devoted to the praise of the
Sabbath, and only two are given to sarcastic attacks on the Khassidim.
In the latter, the words are put in the mouth of a Khassid, who prays to
God that he may send again darkness instead of the victorious light in
order that his kind may the more securely shear their sheep.
Another very popular poet of the sixties was Abraham Goldfaden,[55] who,
in 1876, became the founder of the Jewish theatre. His literary activity
may be roughly divided into the period before, and the period after, the
establishment of the theatre. The first only is the subject of our
present discussion. Like the other two, he published his works in
Zhitomir, which, on account of the Rabbinical school opened there in the
forties, had come to be the rallying ground of all those who were
advocating a progressive Judaism. As the title of his first collection,
'The Jew,' indicates, his poems are all devoted to strictly Jewish
matters. Although he occasionally has recourse to the method of
Ehrenkranz, or, foreshadowing his future career, even descends to the
use of theatre couplets, yet the most of his poems have an individual
character, differing from all of his predecessors. He treats with great
success, and in a large variety of rhymes, the allegorical and the
historical song, sometimes as separate themes, more often by combining
them.
One of the best allegorical poems is the triad, 'The Aristocratic
Marriage.' In the first part, 'The Betrothal,' he tells us how the
humble Egyptian slave, Israel, was betrothed to his aristocratic bride
on Mount Sinai. God was the father who gave away the Law to his son, and
Moses was the _Schadchen_, the go-between, the never-failing concomitant
of a Jewish marriage. The second part describes a typical Jewish
wedding--Israel's entrance into Jerusalem; while the third shows how
Israel has misused his opportunity while living in the house of his
wife's father during the years that immediately follow the marriage. He
committed adultery with idolatry, and God drove him out of his home, but
out of regard for his pious ancestry He allowed him to take his wife
along with him on his wanderings, and promised him that after ages of
repentance He would send him the Messiah to restore him to his former
home.
A similar triad, but of a historical nature, is his well-known 'That
Little Trace of a Jew,' in which he successively portrays the virtues,
the sufferings, and the vices of his race. The last part is identical in
sentiment with Gordon's 'Arise, my People,' and inculcates tolerance for
the various religious parties of the Jews and love of worldly learning.
'The Firebrand' relates the destruction of the Temple; 'Rebecca's Death'
gives a Talmudical version of the event; and 'Cain' tells of his
wanderings over the face of the earth after his killing of his brother,
and his vain search of death. The latter is the most popular of his
Biblical songs. Among the other poems, many of which are of sterling
worth, there must be mentioned his lullaby, whose widespread
dissemination is only second to Berenstein's cradle song.
The poems which Goldfaden has written during his lifetime would fill
several large volumes; they can be found scattered through various
periodicals which have appeared in the last thirty years, and in the
greater part of the dramas which he has composed for the stage which he
has created. Most of these are mere street ballads, but there are some
of a serious nature; of these mention will be made in the chapter on the
theatre. To the best productions of his first, the most original period
of his poetical activity, belong the poems touching women, contained in
the volume entitled 'The Jewess.' From the contents we learn that one of
them is a translation from Béranger, the other from the Russian. It is
also characteristic of the history of Jewish folk-music that one of the
songs, as we are informed in the same place, is to be sung to the tune
of a well-known Russian lullaby, the other with a Little-Russian melody,
while for a third, is mentioned one of M. Gordon's songs.
All the above-mentioned poets belong to what might be termed the German
school. These men were more or less intimately acquainted with German
literature, and frequently borrowed their subject-matter from that
source. They all were active at a time when the conflict between the old
religious life of the Russian Jews and the modern tendencies was at the
highest. They looked for a solution in the reform which, since the days
of Mendelssohn, has become the watchword of progress in Germany. They
hoped finally to substitute even the German language for the
Judeo-German, which they regarded as a corrupted form of German, and,
therefore, named Jargon, an appellation that has stuck to it ever since.
In the meanwhile, the better classes were receiving their instruction in
Russian schools that alienated them alike from the German influence and
from a closer contact with their humble coreligionists. Even such men as
had begun in the forties and fifties as folk-poets, were abandoning
their homely dialect for the literary language of the country. Jehuda
Loeb Gordon, the Hebrew scholar and poet, had given promise of becoming
the greatest of popular singers. Yet, in the seventies, he wrote only in
Hebrew and Russian, and it was only in the eighties, when the riots and
expatriations of the Jews had destroyed all hopes that had been placed
in assimilation, that he returned to compose songs for the consolation
of his humble and unfortunate brothers.[56] J. L. Gordon has written but
few Judeo-German poems, and, of these, not more than nine or ten are
folksongs; but they represent the highest perfection of the older school
of the popular bards. He has not been surpassed by any of them in
simplicity of diction, warmth of feeling, and purity of language. Two of
his oldest poems, 'A Mother's Parting,' and 'A Story of Long-Ago,'
relate, the first, the hardships of a Jewish soldier in the forties; the
second, the horrors of the regime of _Chapers_, the dishonesty and
inhumanity of the _Kahal_, the representative body of the Jewish
community. The newer poems are all of a humoristic nature, except the
one devoted to the praise of 'The Law Written on Parchment' that has
been the consolation of the Jews during their many wanderings and
persecutions.
Parallel with the German school, now overlapping its territory, now
pursuing its own course, ran the class of poetry that had for its
authors the _Badchens_ or _Marschaliks_[57]--the wedding jesters. In
medieval times the jester's function was to amuse the guests at the
wedding, while the more serious discourses were delivered by the Rabbi
and the bridegroom. In Russia he had come to usurp all these functions.
He improvised verses upon the various stages of the marriage ceremony,
delivered the solemn discourses to bridegroom and bride, and furnished
the wit during the banquet. His improvisations were replete with
Biblical and Talmudical allusions, and cabbalistic combinations of the
Hebrew letters of the names of the married couple. His verses were mere
rhyming lines, without form or rhythm, and his jests were often of a low
order and even coarse. The name of 'badchen' came to be the byname of a
coarse, uncultured jester. A change for the better was made in the
second half of the fifties by Eliokum Zunser,[58] then but in his teens,
who had conceived the idea of making the badchen a singer of songs,
rather than a merry person. He was, no doubt, led to make this
innovation through the many new folksongs, by Gordon, Ehrenkranz, and
Berel Broder, that were then current among the people, and that were
received with so much acclamation, both on account of their pleasing
contents and the excellent tunes to which they had been set. In 1861, he
published eight of his songs which he had been singing at weddings. One
of these, at least, 'The Watch,' is merely a differently versified form
of Ehrenkranz's 'The Gold Watch,' which must have reached him in its
oral form, as it was printed only in 1865. Zunser possessed an excellent
voice, and had received a good musical training, and his songs and tunes
spread with astonishing rapidity throughout the whole length and breadth
of Russia, wherever Jews lived, and became also popular in Galicia and
Roumania. This innovation came to stay, and, within a short time, the
host of badchens throughout the country began to sing songs at wedding
feasts. Whoever could, composed songs of his own; whoever was not gifted
with the power of versification, sang the songs of others. These
badchens were the most potent factors in the dissemination of the songs
of the above-mentioned poets, long before they were accessible in a
printed form.
Since it was the badchen's business to amuse, it was natural for Zunser
to adopt the manner of Ehrenkranz and Berel Broder, rather than that of
his countrymen, Gordon and Goldfaden. But to the Russian Jew, that is
amusing which gives him food for reflection, and nature and its
manifestations are interesting to him only in so far as they interpret
man in all his aspects of life and vicissitudes of fortune. It is this
facile power of dissolving external facts in the alembic of his
introspective imagination, that has brought Zunser so near to the
people, and that has made him so popular. He does not possess the
poetical instincts of his contemporaries, Gordon and Ehrenkranz; and
many of his poems are mere plagiarisms from other singers. Yet they
have become better known in the form in which he has sung them than in
their original verses.
All the characteristics of the poets whom he imitates are repeated in
Zunser: we have the dispute in 'The Countryman and the Townsman,' 'The
Old World and the New,' 'Song of Summer and Winter.' The best of his
songs of reflection is 'The Flower,' in which the Jew is compared with a
neglected flower; other poems of the same category are 'The Railroad,'
'The Ferry,' 'The Iron Safe,' 'The Clock,' 'The Bird.' There are also
songs in which he scourges the hypocrite, the usurer, the inordinate
love of innovations and fashion, and some give good pictures of various
incidents in the life of a Russian Jew.
Zunser has had many imitators, and their name is legion; few of them
have been so versatile or have become so popular as he. They delight in
their vocation of badchen, and take pains to mention their profession on
the title-pages of the pamphlets which they publish, and frequently they
try to make their publications more attractive by giving them the title
of 'The Lame Marschalik,' 'The Marschalik with One Eye,' and so forth.
Many of the improvisations of the badchen never see daylight, but pass
in manuscript form to their brothers in the profession. Although, in the
eighties, there has arisen a new class of singers who sing in the manner
of the poets of the literary languages, yet the badchens still recite in
the old style, frequently, however, reflecting the new conditions of
life in their poems. A strange departure has taken place in the
badchen's profession in America, where, under more favorable conditions
of existence and increased well being, there has come to be a greater
demand for amusement; the wedding day is no longer the one day of joy,
but the 'jester' is now invited to entertain companies at any and all
pleasurable meetings. He is now no longer required to create new poems,
but to sing well the current couplets of the day.