As Debra Spark says in her introduction, Bernard Malamud uses “fairy tale, myth and magic” not to distract us from reality, but “lead [us] to it in the most profound way.” Imagine us diving back into the words of our favorite childhood fairy tales and stories, letting them lead us to examine our own reality in a way we didn't know how back when we were children. Malamund allows us to do that with his stories “The Magic Barrel,” “The Last Mohican,” and “The Jewbird.” His use of magical realism allows us to see our reality through these stories of magic and mystery.
Malamund also has the unique ability to draw us in to the plaight of his characters, even us readers who are not Jewish. When his mother asked why a non-Jew would want to read his stories, he famously replied that “All men are Jews.” In that, we all suffer in various ways, either by our unique ethnic background, gender or class. We live, therefore we suffer, according to Malamund.
We have characters that have forgotten their Jewish past, such as Cohen in “The Jewbird” and Fidelman in “The Last Mohican.” We have the “Old Jews” such as the lonely rabbi in “The Magic Barrel,” and the union of him with the fallen rabbi's daughter. These stories show that one must find a balance between the ways of the past and the ways of the present. Malamud accomplishes that by creating stories that all people, oppressed or not, will be able to read, enjoy and learn from.
Bernard Malamud’s stories were interesting, if not a bit confusing for me at times. The thing that struck me the most in all three of the stories were the characters and how diverse each and every one of them was. In The Magic Barrel, Leo hires Salzman, a matchmaker to find him a wife. Through the matchmaking process, Leo realizes that the reason he needs the matchmaker and the reason he doesn’t like any of Salzman’s suggestions is that he’s never loved anything or anyone before, and feels like he can’t love anyone, until he sees the picture of Salzman’s daughter and falls for the one girl he shouldn’t fall for, according to Salzman. There seemed to me to be something supernatural or weird about Salzman, in that he didn’t could only be communicated with in strange ways and was always appearing out of the blue. This sense of slightly supernatural elements was present in the other stories as well.
ReplyDeleteThe Last Mohican was the most confusing in my opinion and I’m not really sure I understand it completely. An art student, Fidelman, goes to Rome and meets a fellow Jew in Susskind, a refugee from Israel. Susskind asks Fidelman for his coat and then continues to show up around Rome and ask Susskind for money or for his coat. Fidelman himself doesn’t really seem to identify as Jewish very much. He seems put out that the first person he meets is Jewish, is extremely uncomfortable in the synagogue, and forgets that of course Susskind wouldn’t be at work on the Sabbath. The way Susskind was able to follow Fidelman without being seen and know when he switched hotels might also be that slight supernatural element. I must admit, I don’t know what Susskind burning Fidelman’s manuscript was supposed to represent. Perhaps Susskind thought he was too wrapped up in his work?
The most interesting, and the most outwardly supernatural or fantastical, story was The Jewbird. A ragged, crow-like bird seeks refuge with a family while running from some “Anti-Semeets”. Generally, I got the impression that the bird was supposed to be the old Jewish grandfather that the grandkids really like but the adults just tolerate and have to take care of. They don’t treat him very well, especially the father, even though they also seem to be Jewish themselves based on the occasional Yiddish, perhaps representing the generational gap between n the older and younger generations. I’m not sure what being a bird is supposed to represent, but that was the impression I got from it.
Now this is the story all about how
ReplyDeleteMy inbox got filled, stuffed with blog posts
And I'd like to take a minute just sit right there
I'll tell you what I thought of the stories by Bernard Malamud
(Sorry, couldn't resist including it again.)
Bernard Malamud makes interesting choices when selecting the types of characters he decides to portray. No, I am not referring to the essentially all-Jewish cast (though in practice, most of them barely qualify as Jewish), but instead to the use of negative character traits. For example, “The Magic Barrel” features Leo, a man who is rather picky and hypocritical in how he views his relationship with God (a weak link despite being a rabbi) and how he judges the women he is set up with, as he is judgmental to them while acknowledging that he wasn’t what he was built up to be either. Also in this story was Salzman, the typical sleazy salesman: manipulative, dishonest, and persistent (not to mention the unexplained animosity towards a daughter he sets up with a client anyway). Despite these “negative” characters, the story itself manages to not end on a pessimistic vibe, nor am I infuriated with the characters. Perhaps this is due to the combination of positive qualities and a sense of self-realization that may lead to personal improvement (Leo learning to accept his relationship with God and Salzman giving Leo the blessing to help his daughter).
This interesting twist appears also in “The Last Mohican.” Fidelman is obsessed with himself and his studies (his awkwardness at the synagogue shows how he made little room for religion in his life), going nearly insane due to losing a single chapter of work. Susskind was only worse, being a persistent stalker and eventual thief who is unable to prioritize between comfort and financial security, not to mention breaks the trust of the authorities who let him off with a warning for illegal peddling. However, this story also turns itself around when Fidelman learns from the theft of his chapter to think beyond his studies to fill his work with more passion, and it was (possibly) Susskind’s goal in the first place to teach this message (albeit in a convoluted and harsh way).
“The Jewbird” subverts this trend, with the cruel Cohen not only failing to acknowledge his faults, but allowing his stubborn nature to lead to Schwartz’s exile and death, despite all that Schwartz had given to the family – specifically tutoring for Maurie, whose grades dropped when the bird was gone – and how little the bird had needed in return. This story departed from the others in that the ending was pessimistic and depressing, with the themes focusing on betrayal and hate instead of redemption. It wasn’t a bad story due of this difference, and I do not fault the author too much for this choice (it is difficult to write about predominately Jewish characters without falling to the temptation of creating an analogy to the suffering of the Jewish tradition, and not every story one writes is going to have the same mood), but I did prefer the dynamic character development seen in the other two stories. What can I say? I like seeing characters evolve, and it’s impressive to see it happen in the limited room of a short story.
While reading Malamud's stories, I found myself fully engaged with each character. In each story there is a problem that the character faces. We then see the character struggle with mostly themselves, to fix, or move on with their lives. I also realized that in each story we see a main character lose their temper. Whether it be over a woman, a thief, or a bird, we see characters get picked at until finally they can't take it anymore. They all want something, something they can't have, find, or get rid of. In "The Magic Barrel", we see Leo struggling to find a partner in life. So he turns to this matchmaker Salzman who supposedly can help him find a wife. Leo however doesn't want to buy love, he wants to find it. We see Leo fall apart over the concept of finding the woman in this photograph. He stops eating and taking care of himself. In "the Last Mohican", we see Fidelman lose his ability to write and be inspired once he has been taken advantage of by Susskind. In "The Jew Bird", Cohen comes to the final breaking point and kills the bird, (or at least I think he does) because he just can't take it anymore. Malamud has taken these stories and created great tension for the readers and the characters. Not only are there these antagonist that are testing these characters, but I also think Cohen, Fidelman and Leo are all struggling internally. With this constant build up in each story, I have to say that I loved that Malamud doesn't give a happy ending, in fact if anything he leaves us hanging on the emotional state of the characters themselves. I think Malamud is really hinting on the emotional struggle we have within ourselves as well as the breaking points we each have. Each one of these stories also hints on the concept of trust. Leo needed and wanted to trust Salzman, but in the end he realized he couldn't. Fidelman thought he could bargain with Susskind, just like Cohen thought he could handle the bird if he kept his mouth shut and maurie got good grades. I also think that each one of these stories has an even deeper meaning to them. I almost think that each one is trying to teach me a lesson, whether it's on love, life, or the ability to be happy, i'm not sure. I do however think that Malamud is doing something bigger, something i'm not even sure I can explain.
ReplyDeleteBernard Malamud’s stories are an interesting bunch each with very colorful characters. A rabbi-to-be searches for the perfect marriage candidate, but ends up finding that all along he was searching for a way to love. A former painter and a refugee meet in Rome and continue to meet up randomly as the former painter tries to complete his manuscript. A talking bird, known as a Jewbird, comes to live with a family and helps to better their lives, but the father still ends up chasing the bird away. All stories deal with Jewish characters, but none strictly have to do with being Jewish. In fact, I could see these situations happening to anyone of any religion based on the worlds Malamud presents to his readers.
ReplyDeleteI will admit that I felt misled by the introduction by Debra Spark. She described Malamud’s stories as a mixture of realism and fantasy. Certainly abnormal things happened in each story, but nothing quite deserving of the “fantasy” genre. While a talking bird may be out of the ordinary, Malamud manages to make it seem normal in the world he creates, thus giving more of an air of realism. Still, talking birds and disappearing matchmakers don’t strike me as fantastical elements, despite Malamud’s ability to make them feel real within the context of the story.
I found myself enjoying these stories, though “The Last Mohican” dragged on a bit here and there, and I can’t say I completely understand the purpose of that story yet. With “The Magic Barrel” I enjoyed reading about Leo’s inner struggle to try to find love in his life. It felt very real to me, the thought of “how can I marry or say I love God when I have never loved anything in my life?” It was a very important question to bring up, not just for a Jewish man, but for anyone. And then there was my favorite “The Jewbird.” I could find humor in this story through Schwartz, not just in the fact that he was a talking bird but that he had rather comical dialogue in the beginning as well. The entire story started out feeling very lighthearted, and then ended on a rather grim note. This was probably the most Jewish story in the collection, as Schwartz’s struggles with this family could easily be taken as a representation of what the Jewish people went through throughout multiple events in history. I don’t want to make that assumption and thus limit the intended audience, but it is hard to completely deny altogether.
The purpose of magical realism in most stories is to use a fantasy-based lens not to drive the plot but to relate an overlying metaphor to the actions of a particular story. I believe we have established that Bernard Malamud is a great craftsman when it comes to this element in writing. Another piece that defines at least these selected short stories, is how Malamud uses other characters as alternative, sometimes sadistic, helping hands. Salzman, the matchmaker, makes his living on bringing people together. However, the more Salzman involves himself in Finkle’s life, the more anxious and distraught Finkle becomes. Salzman keeps trying to one-up himself, by exaggerating the qualities of the women he shows Finkle and mentioning to look past their one flaw. On the surface, the matchmaker is only doing his job, but continuously shows or matches Finkle up with the wrong other. Until the end, where he arguably teases Finkle with his own daughter who, by his word, “should burn in hell”. Then we get to the last chilling line, which we all find frightening but intriguing at the same time, “Around the corner, Salzman, leaning against a wall, chanted prayers for the dead.” Who is he chanting for, his daughter? Maybe he didn’t mean what he said about her figuratively.
ReplyDeleteI see Salzman as a classic angel of death character. He becomes sicklier as Finkle remains indecisive about who he wants to be with, as if he isn’t just feeding off of fish but on Finkle’s soul as well. Plus, when Finkle actually needs to locate him, he disappears. Finkle finds his address and the place is described to sound like no one has maintained apartment for decades. Furthermore, Salzman’s wife simply tells Finkle to return home, because Salzman will find him instead. That is a direct signal that something is afoot in this already eerie story. This all solidifies the fantastical hints that Malamud is so fond of.
Susskind and Schwartz act in similar roles to the other characters. With Susskind the aid he seemingly provides is actually what is hidden to Fidelman. Susskind pushes Fidelman to strive for more in his life as well as his work that he is currently studying. Fidelman’s psyche is destroyed by the end of the story, but again he was pushed. Susskind gave him a drive. Schwartz is the old family member that no one really wants to deal with, but he helps Maurie in homework and provides a little more life to the home. All of these characters’ motives are just, but their process of executing them comes with a price.
Bernard Malamud’s The Magic Barrel was an interesting story to say the least. He used a lot of detail, but not a lot of setting. I thought that the dialog was the most praise worthiness of this story. Malamud really got the point across about Leo and even about Salzman. I thought it was so interesting that it was a story about a man getting a matchmaker. The only time I’ve even seen something like that was from “fiddler on the roof.” I thought that this was very deep actually although looking back the last line confused me and I didn’t understand why Salzman was chanting for the dead? I’m assuming his daughter was a metaphor, but I couldn’t tell because all I really understood about her was that he couldn’t offer any money for her and she was a sinner. At the same time thought she must have represented something brilliant for Leo who couldn’t stop thinking of her. During this story I was slightly confused, but I found my baring and was able to backtrack and understand Salzman’s quirks and his persistency.
ReplyDelete"The Last Mohican" holds true for the last story about the theme of studing and using up years of ones life. The main character Fidelman seems almost obbessested over his work and it is shown a few times that he is on the verge of breaking. Susskind honestly was really creepy, not to mention a staker. I was more confused with this piece then with "Magic Barrel." I didn't get as much out of it although I did enjoy that Fidelman learns from the theft of his chapter and begins to follow more of his feels rather then his thoughts.
"The Jewbird" This story broke the trend and had the main character Cohen not learning from his mistakes, but being increasingly unprogressive and intoerant.
This was my least enjoyed story even thought it was a quick read.
All three of Bernard Malamund’s stories were quite enjoyable to read. He really is a master at incorporating fantasy into reality. He is so good at it that I don’t even question what is happening in the story. In my opinion, the fantasy increases steadily in each piece. Essentially, The Magic Barrel is the most realistic story to me. It is grounded in a very real situation around a very believable man, who has a believable problem. I really appreciate the way Malamund hides Leo’s real problem (his disbelief in his own faith) until he meets Lily. And then, suddenly, Leo realizes just how lost he is. It’s not marriage he wants. He doesn’t know what he wants. But, he is now staring at an absolute truth: he is a sixth year rabbinical student, who doesn’t know why he’s going to be a rabbi anymore. Interestingly, he only finds this out through the whole matchmaking process. That being said, my favorite part of the story is Salzman’s steady creepiness. In the end, I am questioning who this guy is. For a split second, I thought Stella was a prostitute and Salzman was a pimp. Now, I’m almost certain that that’s not the case, but I do think there is more to Salzman than meets the eye. The final line of this story is wonderfully creepy. It makes me smile.
ReplyDeleteThe Last Mohican is excellent for its creepiness. Essentially, Fidelman is stalked by this Susskind character. It is beyond strange. Malamund does an excellent job of controlling the action, so that I progress from being mildly amused at this aggressive beggar to terrified at this potential sociopath (and, I don’t even know which of the two kinds he is!), who will stop at nothing to get what he wants. Is it realistic? As in The Magic Barell, this piece does not have any outright fantastical elements to it. However, it does play with reality. It seems far-fetched for Susskind to attach himself instantly to Fidelman. But, it is not impossible. The reasoning for doing such a thing would undoubtedly be sinister.
After reading The Jewbird, I am not sure which of these pieces is my favorite. This is certainly the most unique of the three. Unlike The Magic Barrell and The Last Mohican this story does not rely on reality at all. It is pure fantasy. It is darkly comical and I found it fucking hilarious, to be honest. Malamund is definitely playing up Jewish stereotypes by naming the bird Schwartz. Moreover, I really love he is just Schwartz. Hell, sometimes, he’s even Mr. Schwartz. This piece does, in the end, take a dark turn, as Schwartz is violently thrown out of the house. As in the other pieces, I do question identity to a certain extent. We are caught gaping at the violence of Harry Coehen and his apparent disregard to his own culture. That is perhaps the most shocking part of this piece: Harry Cohen is so afraid of his own culture that he cannot consent to Schwartz’s own Jewishness.
Bernard Malamund’s stories are all fantastic. The subtle creepiness drives them before an explosion of fear overtakes the reader right before the ending. These three stories were all thrilling in their own ways. I will certainly have to start looking into more of Mr. Malamund’s work.
I love the magic and conflict in all three of the Bernard Malamud stories. Each of the stories has a clash between the old and the new. The main character has their ways and values challenged by a less fortunate, almost magical, soul. In “The Magic Barrel,” Finkle doesn’t know what love really is or what he wants. He is unable to discover what he wants until another character, Salzman shows him through a potential wife. Finkle is pretty well off on his way to becoming a rabbi. Salzman on the other hand is not so well off in the story it describes his apartment, “It was sunless and dingy, one large room divided by a half-open curtain, beyond which he could see a sagging metal bed” (Winegardner, 641). Salzman also keeps disappearing and reappearing throughout the story. When Finkle finally thinks he really needs him, Salzman is nowhere to be found. Instead Finkle is told that Salzman will find him. Another character like Salzman is Susskind from “The Last Mohican.” Susskind is also a little magical in the way he keeps reappearing along side Fidelman. Which is interesting since Finkle and Fidelman have names that kind of go together like Salzman and Susskind do. Fidelman is trying to study a famous painter, Giotto, and write a story on him. Susskind is the one who distorts his view and in a dream gets him to finally understand Giotto’s art. “The Jewbird” connects into the magic with a talking bird names Schwartz. He comes and challenges Cohen’s family structure and tries to improve it. He helps the son get better grades and Edie gains a friend. The bird provides a caring relationship to Edie and Maurie and makes Cohen feel undermined in his authority. In the end, Cohen goes on a rampage and kills the bird and the values the bird stood for. All three stories are intricantly linked through the challenging forces shown through magical characters. What makes Malamud such a great writer is that those almost magical characters are realistic. A reader doesn’t necessarily question a man only appearing when he is not needed and a talking bird.
ReplyDeleteBernard Malamud was a difficult read for me to get to. It felt as though his works were prolonged in a way where I began to itch, waiting for the end of the story, waiting to feel satisfied with where the stories were going. “The Magic Barrel” managed to keep my attention, even though I had that off-putting feeling and wondered where it was going. I disliked all of the characters, but I thought it was well-written. I thought it was an oddly hysterical story; a man so busy with his studies that he did not have time to fall in love. This may happen more than we think. Because of this I think I was more accepting of the story, even though it really did seem to be something that was so odd it might not happen. He shows us how desperate some people really are. “The Last Mohican” gave me a really hard time. The descriptiveness of this story was something that I really appreciated, however, this reader took forever getting through it. I look toward being descriptive in my stories, it's something I strive for, however I just couldn't connect to this. I don’t even know where to begin with “The Jewbird”. I didn’t know how to react to the idea of a bird “hiding out” within a family’s home the way he did. It was, after all, only a bird. It seemed to be a modern-day fairy tale that would never have a happy ending. Reading through it though, we know that this story is about more than just a bird who can talk. All in all, I have a fair sense of what Malamud’s stories accomplish, even though I’m not his biggest fan.
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