=Contrite Hearts.= By Herman Bernstein. A. Wessels Company, New
York.
Some books are interesting because of their content alone; some only on
account of the personality of their author: some for the reason that both
the author and the content of his book are humanly valuable. Of the third
distinction is “Contrite Hearts,” a story of Jewish life in Russia and
the United States, by a writer who on occasion before has shown that he
can use an alien language with simplicity and force. He has shown before
also that he can present a picture of the people of his race without bias
and with a due understanding of their defects and qualities. The Jew in
America as presented in melodrama is a creation almost wholly of the
romance spirit of the theatre. It is not to be denied that the prevalence
of the very poor Jews in the lowest ranks of traffickers among men has
provided an obvious type. In sharp contrast to this is the growing
dominance of the Jew in the very highest ranks of commerce. Between the
two must of necessity exist the Jew of the middle class; and all these
varieties of the race have expanded to their utmost in the United States
rather than in any other country. From a purely artistic standpoint,
therefore, there is nothing more evident than that the field of Jewish
manners and customs is wide and rich ground for the novelist. The
transmutation in one generation of a peasant in Russia, with no rights
beyond those of a street mongrel, to a man in the most advanced as well
as the most vigorous civilization of the day, is material too obvious to
be overlooked by the most casual scribe.
Mr. Bernstein, while not a writer of dramatic quality has that quieter
and more sincere gift native to Russians, whether Jew or Gentile, of
presenting life as an actuality against the artificial background of the
printed page. Many who are called novelists among ourselves, and who have
never talked or written any language but English, could learn a good deal
of simplicity from this foreign-born author. Of course, one runs across
the traces of his birth in certain peculiarities that even constant
practice cannot wear out. These blemishes, however, are never vulgar as
are the strainful phases of an indigenous author who uses his language as
a race-track tout spreads himself with the flashy colors and fabrics that
the clothier and the haberdasher of his station provide. It is rather
interesting to hear what one of the characters in “Contrite Hearts” has
to say of this country.
“Here in America it is different. All are equal. Everyone is free.
And all roads to success are open to the able, the enterprising, the
persevering. There is no difference here between Jew and Gentile.
People flock hither from all lands, and within a few years the Jew, the
Frenchman, the German, the Irishman, the Italian—all are proud that they
have become American. You ask me about the Jews, about Jewish affairs,
about Jewish institutions—well, we have various kinds of Jews here.
Orthodox Jews—these are the plain Jews like ourselves. Reform Jews—Jews
who imitate the ways of the Christian. There are also Jews here who try
to be both Orthodox and reform at the same time—that is, neither this nor
that.”
Is this all true?