Acknowledgement
of the multi-racial, multi-national, and multi-religious character of Britain's
population at the start of the twenty-first century has led the academy to expand
the ways in which it studies the literature of earlier centuries. It is now common to ask how representations of
aliens, outsiders, strangers, and other "others," as well as the work these
imagined "others" perform in fiction and poetry, illuminate larger cultural
anxieties and political concerns. It is
also now common to ask how writers who belong to marginalized groups both echo
and subvert these hegemonic representations. The two works under review here, however
different their aim and scope, share this outlook.
The collection of essays edited by Eitan Bar-Yosef and Nadia Valman began life as a
two-day colloquium at the University of Southampton in July 2003. The references in the subtitle to London's East
End and to British East Africa allude to the central themes of the conference:
how Jewish immigration to England from Eastern Europe, British support for the
nascent Zionist movement, including an offer of land for Jewish settlement in
what is now Kenya (but was then referred to as Uganda), and Jewish
participation in the development of the South African diamond industry thrust
Jews (real and imagined) into the public arena at the turn of the century. The contributors to the volume, starting from
the premise that Jews and Judaism have "always held a unique place in the
British cultural imaginary" (7), explore how these historical events
invigorated this hoary preoccupation in fiction, journalism, and other media.
The
most successful essays in the collection acknowledge and capture the ambivalence
in most literary representations of "the Jew."
They point to the limitations of the binary labels "antisemitic" and "philosemitic,"
preferring instead to stress the essentialist thinking at work in representing
"the Jew" more generally and the capacity of Jews to disturb categories of
identity" (national, racial, social) in modern culture by their proverbial liminality, For example, Nadia Valman's own contribution
to the volume, a study of four Anglo-Jewish writers (Samuel Gordon, Benjamin
Farjeon, Julia Frankau, and Israel Zangwill) who responded in novels and short
stories to the linkage in public debate between immigration and the Boer War,
demonstrates the fluidity of essentialist notions of Jewishness. In one late-Victorian text, disciplined,
hard-working East End immigrants embody the virtues of free market capitalism;
in another, manipulative, parasitical Rand millionaires conspire to undermine
British national interests. Valman's
theme is how these four Jewish writers insert, rewrite, and transform these
representations, moving between and around them without ever being able to
ignore them altogether.
The
figure of Israel Zangwill looms large in this collection. He makes an
appearance in Valman's essay, as well as in several others, and takes center
stage in the essays of David Glover and Meri-Jane Rochelson. Zangwill's attitudes to matters Jewish are notoriously
difficult to categorize, largely because he was himself so conflicted about
Judaism and Jewishness. Glover considers
Zangwill's creation of Territorialism (the movement to create a Jewish homeland
in a territory other than the Land of Israel) in the context of English
imperialism, from which, he argues, Zangwill drew deeply. He argues convincingly that Zangwill's Jewish
nationalism, however rooted in his sense of Jewishness, also participated in
British fantasies about empire, especially the fantasy of empire "as a tabula rasa, a place of fresh starts and
new beginnings" (141). Rochelson agrees
with Glover about the centrality of the language of British imperialism in
Zangwill's Territorialism but offers a broader view of its genesis and
development, linking it to his ideas about religious regeneration,
international conflict, and the plight of Russian Jewry. The author of a recent, book-length study of
Zangwill (A Jew in the Public Arena,
2008), Rochelson concludes with an ironic observation about Zangwill, who was frequently
pilloried for his 1903 pronouncement "Palestine needs a people; Israel needs a
country" (a position he soon abandoned). Compared with the leaders of political
Zionism in his lifetime, Rochelson says, Zangwill was
acutely aware that the Arabs of Palestine could not be ignored.
Rochelson
is sensitive to the dangers of presentism in writing about figures whose
commitments remain flashpoints of controversy a century later. But this is not true of every contribution to
the volume. Mark Levene's essay on Herzl
and the scramble for sub-Saharan Africa argues that British intervention there
"profoundly influenced" (203) the writing of Der Judenstaat - even though, as he admits, the pamphlet never
mentions Africa by name. His evidence is
flimsy and his argument is speculative. But
his intention, rooted in the current obsession with the Israeli-Palestinian
conflict in British universities, is clear: to demonize Jewish nationalism by
linking one of its ideological forebears with the imperialism of Cecil Rhodes
and King Leopold of Belgium. Equally
presentist is Eitan Bar-Yosef's essay on the commission sent to East Africa in
1905 by the World Zionist Organization to examine the territory that the
British government was offering for Jewish settlement. Bar-Yosef pursues the same strategy as
Levine, claiming that Africa played - "and continues to play, even today - a
significant role in Zionism's self-fashioning" because it is "a space in which
personal and national fantasies can be acted out and made explicit" (184). What Levine and Bar-Yosef forget to mention
is that Herzl, who died in 1906, exerted far less influence on the creation of
the State of Israel than the leaders of the Labor Zionist parties, whose education,
class position, and cultural background were entirely different. To imply that a straight line connects Herzl's
fantasies to current realities in Israel and Palestine is tendentious.
The
literary and historical ground covered in the volume will be familiar to those
who work in the late-Victorian and Edwardian period. A few contributors, however, introduce texts
that will not be familiar to even specialists in the period. Adrienne Munich's chapter on three South African
diamond field novels addresses the imaginative link between Jews and
diamonds, what she calls "the problem of
the Jew in the jewel" (20), in ways that expose the cultural unease of their
authors. Jasmine Donahaye's article
takes historians of British Jewry (myself included) to task for ignoring the
literary output of Welsh Jews, especially the fiction of the now forgotten Lily
Tobias, to whom much of this chapter is devoted. Simon Rabinovitch's chapter should also be
mentioned in this context, for it examines the contributions of Joseph Jacobs
and Moses Gaster to folklore rather than their much better known work in Jewish
history and apologetics.
Toby
Benis's Romantic Diasporas moves back
a century to the start of the nineteenth century. It too operates on the premise that texts
about outsiders reveal the making of national identity and its tensions,
especially when those outsiders were exiles, in this case, French clergy and nobility
who fled the revolution, British convicts who were transported to Australia,
and Jews, the archetypal exiles and wanderers in Christian theological
discourse.
The
strongest chapters in the book are the two on narratives about transportation
to Australia. One has a sense that here
Benis is less dependent on earlier literary scholarship and is charting her own
path. Her argument is that "the exile of
convicts to Australia brought to the fore public anxieties about the nature of
British identity, the nation's political future, and its class structure"
(86). In the first of these chapters, she
concentrates on narratives about George Barrington, "the prince of
pickpockets," whose modus operandi was speaking, dressing, and behaving like a
well-bred man to gain access to upper-class society;, she shows convincingly
how unsettling this was and how it continued to shape perceptions of his
behavior long after his arrest and transportation. Barrington's relations with other convicts,
with officers on the ship carrying him to Australia, and with aboriginal
tribesmen fascinated readers because they could be read in so many ways: as a
challenge to the fixity of class stratification, as a blurring of the line
between the guilty and the innocent, and as evidence of the potentially
rehabilitative impact of transportation.
But in spite of what Benis argues, the narratives about Barrington and
other convicts do not address the formation of British identity. While these narratives have much to say about
the rights and wrongs of Britain's class system, they do not speak to the
question of defining Britishness or Englishness. Indeed, it is not clear how "anxious" Britons
were at the time about matters of national identity.
The
second of her chapters on transportation treats narratives about the five Scottish
Martyrs who were transported to Botany Bay in the mid-1790s for seditious
libel. Here too Benis demonstrates the
fruitfulness of reading narratives on the trial, transportation, and exile of
these five--by Godwin, Coleridge, and others--as contributions to contemporary
political debate. She also shows how
"the threat of exile shaped in crucial ways the rhetoric and tactic of British
reformers" at the time, who subverted the very aim of transportation - the physical
and imaginative banishment of the government's political enemies - by ensuring
that this exile did not simply "slip off the map" (128). Again, however, Benis claims too much when
she argues that these narratives "call into question key assumptions about the
nature of nationality" (128). When she
writes of their interrogation of the nature of crime and Britain's class
system, she is on firmer ground.
Benis's
book ends with a chapter on Maria Edgeworth's Harrington, which she terms "the touchstone work for Romantic
scholarship on Jews and Judaism" (133). In this chapter, she explicitly links the
different exile communities whose representations are her subject, claiming
that "how Britons responded to Jews anticipated and set the terms for the
questions raised by French émigrés
and transported British convicts" (132).
This is a large claim and one that Benis's exposition does not
support. Even less convincing is her
claim that the obstacles to integration and acceptance that confronted English
Jews "looked ahead" to those experienced by "English/French hybrids" and to
convicts of real or imagined "foreign" origin (133). While her reading of Harrington is illuminating, especially when she writes about the
central trope of ventriloquism in the novel, it does not strengthen either of
the claims that provide the unifying theme of the book.
Todd M. Endelman
is William Haber Professor of Modern Jewish History at the University of
Michigan. He recently completed Broadening Jewish History: Toward a Social
History of Ordinary Jews, which the Littman Library of Jewish Civilization
will publish in December 2010.