Customer Reviews

Resurrecting Hebrew (Jewish Encounters)

5 star:		(0)
4 star:		(1)
3 star:		(4)
2 star:		(5)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

The Hebrew language is perhaps one of the most fascinating tongues in the history of civilization. It is the only language that has officially died and that has experienced a resurrection. Dr. Ilan Stavans, the Chair of Spanish at Amherst College, illustrates the rebirth of this amazing language in Resurrecting Hebrew.

The good professor approaches the rebirth from a pretty weird angle - his recollection of a dream that propels him to reconnect with his lost Hebrew. In his dream, a lady sits next to him at a party and speaks in a language he does not immediately recognize. Conveniently, a group of rabbis are nearby, and one informs him that the mysterious language is Hebrew. His dream haunts him since a Jewish native from Mexico City should recognize the tongue of his youth. To add to the mystery, the lady completely undresses herself during the conversation.

Bothered, the dream propels Dr. Stavans to search out its meaning. After much reflective thought and conversations will well-intended friends, he believes the dream means he is "missing" his Hebrew. This displaced Jewish man is in the midst of a language identity crisis.

To find his language he investigates the life of Eliezer Ben-Yehuda, a lexicographer who is credited with helping Hebrew to achieve its national status once again. Ardently he searches and passionately he writes. The prose, however, is dreadfully slow in places. The various conversations he alludes to in full quotation do not ordinarily occur in casual circumstances.

Love language? Read this book. Don't read it in bed, however, or the Hebrew language won't be the only thing that needs a resurrection.

Armchair Interviews agrees.

You might think that a book entitled "Resurrecting Hebrew" would be about how an archaic and dead language was brought to life and made the daily language of a 20th-Century nation, something like the attempt, much less successful, to make Gaelic the language of the Irish Republic. And you would be terribly wrong.

Mr. Stavans has written a very moving book about his own encounters with Israeli life and culture, with the language of Hebrew and the men and women who helped to bring it to a second life, but he gives no real information about how Hebrew was revived in Palestine and even before in the Diaspora, how it was taught in Israel to the new immigrants who knew it only as a language of holy scripture, how decisions were made about its pronunciation, spelling, vocabulary and syntax. Indeed, a very strange book from which some might derive benefit as they feel extreme frustration in its failure to deliver on its alleged purpose in the first place.

As other reviewers have noted, this is an odd book. Or maybe not odd--just self-absorbed. This is about the author, not so much about the Hebrew language. This is not a place to learn much of substance about the latter.

Savvy Ilan Stavans has here another highly intelligent and artfully constructed book. At heart one finds Stavans' odyssey after traces and the impact of Eliezer Ben-Yehuda, a Jewish lexicographer whose ideological ambitions for Hebrew may have clouded his appreciation of its true horizons. Although, most of the neologisms that he coined for a modernizing Jewish people fell into disuse within a decade or two of their creation, Hebrew thrives. Also, as in all of Stavans' books that I have read, is a powerful autobiographical current. The reflections, linguistic and otherwise, in <Resurrecting Hebrew> seem to have been triggered by a difficult to understand dream, one for which Stavans believes his language withdrawal may account. In the course of his travels and narration of a quite beautiful history of Hebrew, its vernaculars and sages, its vicissitudes in the sea of history and its rescuers from the shoals of Diasporic neglect, the author also comes to understand the significance of his dream and the importance of Hebrew for his acceptance of the ties of tradition in its many manifestations. This book is a gem of historical insight and political provocation as well as a revealing look at the power of Hebrew and the divisions among its speakers concerning its appropriate employment.

The redeeming aspect of this book is that it is extremely readable, a trait not usually associated with academic books. On the other hand, the author demonstrate a very low knowledge and understanding of the Hebrew language in its various forms, and an inability to comprehend that "Hebrew" as discussed in the book is actually three distinct notions ideologically amalgamated by him subconsciously: 1. The Classical Hebrew Language, 2. The Modern Hebrew Language, the final and most current version of it which is used in the State of Israel today, and 3. Hebrew as a metaphysical concept and language as theorized by the Jewish, the Christian and other religious traditions, philosophers, authors-of-fiction, and theoreticians. His inability to distinguish between these three notions of "Hebrew" deprives the book's text of serious speculative of contemplative significance. One personal issue that the author is trying to contend with is the notion that he might have "lost his Hebrew" which for him means, literally, an inability to speak the Modern Hebrew he had learned and used when he was involved with the Zionist movement and after that, during his several-year residency in Israel. Again, conceptual confusion abounds: Does "Hebrew" here mean some sort of spiritual meta-language, Jewish or otherwise, embedded in his spirit and then translated in to the other language he uses, or does "Hebrew" here mean, literally, the Modern Hebrew he learned and used during his residency in Israel? I suppose that his own lack-of-clarity and understanding of this question is the principal investigation of this book but since his own discourse on this issues, as expressed in the book, lacks, simultaneously, "Precision and Soul," it really says nothing, concludes nothing, and does not even offer any issues of irresolvable conflict worthy of contemplation.

I agree with reviewers who find this book, told from the author's point of view, self absorbed. I had hoped to learn how Ben Yehuda's vision reached practical fulfillment, creating a generation of native Hebrew speakers in Israel and reviving the ancient language. Instead the focus of the book was the author's own journeys through Israel, interviewing scholars of both Hebrew and Arabic, and recording their comments. This makes the structure of the book episodic and rambling, without a central focus, as it would have had if the story had stayed with Ben Yehuda. There are meretricious episodes as well. A news vendor's lack of knowledge of Ben Yehuda would not be as telling as, say, the reaction of a student on the Hebrew University campus to the same question. And the sauna episode was embarrassing, both to the woman involved and to the reader. I had hoped the book would focus on the author's reacquaintance with Hebrew after many years, because I too, spent a year at Hebrew University in the 1970's studying in Hebrew and reading the Hebrew newspapers, immersing myself in Hebrew and speaking the language. But I did not get a feel for Stavans' initial reactions to being in a Hebrew-speaking environment after so many years, and how he reacquired fluency, if he did. The author obviously has a great aptitude for Ivrit, but his book is ultimately inconclusive and disappointing.

This book was a major disappointment. Ilan Stavans set out on a quest to unearth the secrets behind the miraculous revival of Hebrew into the living, breathing language it has become today -- but it turns into a self-indulgent, ill-disciplined journey into his own psyche that was just not very interesting.

The wellspring of the book is a tiresome dream that may have had great significance for the author but is of little interest to the reader, no matter how many times it is repeated.

The revival of Hebrew is one of the great achievements of the Zionist movement. Hebrew has become the glue that holds Israel together. Today, even most of the ultra-orthodox who wanted to keep the language in deep freeze used only for prayer speak a vigorous venacular Hebrew. The language changes incredibly fast, constantly sprouting new slang and phrases, many of which are incredibly witty. Everyday Israeli speech seamlesslessly melds Biblical quotations and Talmudic references English, Arabic and Russian phrases.

It has become a flexible, muscular, living language as well as a powerful literary language. Listening to it and speaking it are a joy. Stavans notes that only around 8 million people speak it -- but how many speak Danish or Latvian?

One gets the impression that Stavans doesn't actually know Hebrew that well. And this book does not really explain how the language was revived. Stavans speaks about Eliezar Ben Yehuda, the man credited with inspiring the revival who compiled the first modern dictionary and coined many new words -- but he doesn't get to the heart of the man.

How was a language that nobody had actually spoken for more thasn 2,000 years revived? Stavans doesn't say. Instead, he discusses irrelevant matters like an essay by Borges and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. There is an interesting but limited discussion of the pained relationship between Hebrew and Yiddish -- but this is cut short before one actually learns anything.

The great poet Bialik is mentioned -- but not the other wonderful lyrical voices of the early 20th century such as Shaul Chernikovsky. Stavans discusses the problems of translation but I've read deeper and more interesting essays on this subject elsewhere.

There is a great book waiting to be written on this subject. This is not it.

I'm with Mr. Hurwitz. A confusing book, moderately readable, sometimes interesting, but generally inconclusive. The leisurely pace produces some riveting passages such as:--

"The taxi dropped us at my hotel. I checked into my room, shaved and freshened myself a bit." Numerous similar passages are stupefying in their tedium.

When he waxes philosophical, some of the author's musings are surreal:

"'Is there a worse form of immortality than ending up as a street name?'" the author quotes himself as asking a learned friend. He procedes, quoting himself: "As you know, in Mexico this might be the way for the establishment to deprive someone of a legacy: force people to remember your name, but not what you did.'" So, naming a street for somebody is somehow an attack on the individual's noteworthiness? You could have fooled me.

On architecture: "Israel is a relatively young nation with limited financial resources. [Duh!] Still, I was suprised to see how small and graceless the structure ["housing the Academy of the Hebrew Language on the premises of the Hebrew University"] was in comparison with other federal institutions." What is he talking about? An academic research institution is in non-descript premises? Amherst's campus is spiffier, the New York Public Library an imposing institution? What's the point? And Israel is a unitary, parliamentary state, not a federal state, and doesn't have any "federal" institutions. To apply "federal" to a state whose entire history is a bloody battle over how to accommodate (at least) two nations in one state is pretty weird.

Elsewhere, he tell us there are "a number of different colloquial Arabics but only one classical language...seeking to regulate the use of Arabic and to modulate its embrace of modernity." How can a "language" seek to do anything? If there are political and literary forces behind the promotion of classical Arabic, perhaps Stavan refers to the views of the proponents of various theories, movements, or schools but to to say that the one "classical language [is] seeking to regulate something" is not terribly informative.

"Ben-Yehuda...focused on words of Semitic origin, leaving out terms in Aramaic and words of other origins." Aramaic is not a Semitic language?

Hillel Halkin considers Dr. Johnson a "bemused observer of life." So Dr. Johnson was confused? Or did Halkin mean Johnson viewed llife as an amused and entertained spectator? Because that ain't what "bemused" means. Did Halkin say that, or does Stavan misquote him?

A "lexicon" by Reuven Alkali...is like a Larousse: sharp but trustworthy." Sharp but trustworthy? Sharp, mordant; sharp, attractively formatted; sharp, laconic; sharp, intelligent and perspicacious; sharp, clever, spot on? And if any of these applies, why the "but" before trustworthy?

Naim, a tour-guide and graduate student, wears "thick glasses and his yarmulke, which had the word 'Israel' embroidered in 'graffiti' letters." Anybody know what graffiti letters are? Or how to embroider them? In another place, he refers to graffiti "splashed" on a gravestone. How do you splash graffiti? Would Naim use a Yiddish name for his head-covering, or would he have called it a kippa?

Stavan "asked Naim if, as Halkin [had] told him earlier] Jesus had spoken a bastardized Aramaic with a strong Greek influence." So he doesn't trust Halkin. OK with me, but then he quotes Naim to the effect "that during the Roman control of Palestine, at the time of Jesus, Aramaic was indeed the common language, although Hebrew and Greek were in use, too." Really? How thrilling. Even if this obvious fact were new to the reader, do we really need Naim to tell us yet again, in response to a query for verification of what Halkin has already said? Does this assertion of facts require such ponderous dialogue?

The Jewish Quarter of Jerusalem in 2007 is "dramatically different from what Ben-Yehuda saw upon his arrival [another Duh!]... He belonged to the do-it-yourself generation [Hunh? Levitown in the 1950's? Home Depot?]. There was no wood, no bricks, no cement and machinery construction at the turn of the twentieth century, at least not among Jews." "[t]here was...no bricks"? There were brock buildings and no concrete and no wooden structures in Jerusalem at the turn of the century? Really! And what pray is "cement and machinery" construction? Does he mean the poured concrete now used for low-cost construction everywhere? Cement, by which he means, concrete, mortar, existed for centuries before Ben-Yehudah went "up" to Jerusalem. What is he talking about? That there are new buildings in the Jewish Quarter that weren't there 100 years ago? Duh!, I say, and again, Duh!

"Ben Yehuda's tomb is sparse. [Does he mean spare, perhaps?] It lies horizontally..." What was he expecting? That Ben-Yehuda had been buried standing up? Has anybody ever seen anything at all, much less a tomb, "lie vertically"? Diagonally, perhaps.

And a final example, a view of his sociological research: "As an experiment to find out if Israelis know about Ben-Yehuda, I stopped at a corner newsstand, where I bought copies of Friday's weekend editions of Haaretz and Maariv, Israeli's major dailies." [More irrelevant detail, in case the reader had never heard of either, or cared what papers he bought]". After receiving my change [important dramatic pacing here!] I asked the shop clerk if she knew who Ben-Yehuda was. She was an artificial blond [Ben Yehuda?], wearing an Adidas tracksuit that emphasized her hips and protruding belly [Again, telling details: a lady dresses like many news vendors the world around]. Her initial response was a smile, followed by a silence, behind which I detected hestitation. [Ah, I get it: she was slow to answer, so she must have been hestitating. I'd never have guessed! But Stavan figured it out!] 'Ben-Yehuda? It's a street,' she replied. 'But who is it named after?' 'How should I know? Am I an encylopedia?'" Q.E.D.!

He's lucky she didn't call the shomrim. What does this anecdote tell us? Some lady trying to make a living selling newspapers, either from a stand, or perhaps in a shop, has a lacuna in her literary education? And needs to work her abs?

In short: a meandering and largely tedious relation of one man's trip to Israel in search of eternal truths somehow related to Hebrew linguistics, Jewish history and sociology, Israeli identity and some dream he had about a lady speaking in tongues. A tedious relation in imprecise English alternates with occasional interesting insights, but it all adds up to bubkes. There may be an essay or a magazine piece or two lurking in all this travelogue cover, but revealing them will need an editor with a pruning hook (or maybe a ploughshare), preferably one whose first language is English.

But do not any cost or any account miss the riveting tale about the lady who walked, naked, into the sauna already occupied by the author. When she espied him in the murky darkness, she MAY have said a bad word in English. Or maybe "excuse me" in Hebrew. We'll never know. Or care, even if we are fascinated by the forces at play in the revival and evolution of Hebrew in modern Israel, and would have like to learn more about them.

Ilan Stavans has had personal encounters with many languages in his life. He was born in Mexico City, where he learned Yiddish as well as Spanish. As a young man he tried to live in Israel, learned some Hebrew, decided it wasn't for him -- and eventually ended up in the United States, where he now teaches at a university in Latin American Studies. This particular book charts his return visit to Israel to interview various linguistic experts about the revival of the long-dead Hebrew language in the early part of the Twentieth Century.

The book reads like a series of thoughtful, in-depth magazine articles, the sort of thing the NEW YORKER, for instance, publishes. Overall it tells a fascinating story, highlighting the lives of those who worked long and hard to bring Hebrew back to life and to establish it as the official language of a modern nation state. I do have caveats, however. Although Stavans knows more about Hebrew than I ever will, the book needed an editor with a better grasp of English. At one point Stavans states that "Old English" is the language that gave rise to Welsh and Gaelic. No. These are Celtic languages, not Germanic ones like English. "Old English," or "insular Frisian" or "Anglo-Saxon" comes from an entirely different branch of the Indo-European tree.

An error like that may not seem like much, but when an author loses his grasp on one fact, it leads the reader to doubt others. As a personal journey by one man into the past of his people, however, the book is well worth reading.

This study of the resurrection of Hebrew as a spoken vernacular becomes more of a series of mediations by Stavans on his history and associations with the language than about Hebrew itself.

One example (among many): He sits down with a luminary like David Grossman and winds up doing most of the talking, as if Grossman could not fill an entire volume on his observations of Hebrew that would be more trenchant than Stavans.

In other places he gets little details wrong that can undermine the reader's faith in his knowledge. He notes once that someone is teaching "Ethiopian" when there is no such language at all. At another time, he sums up the Hebrew of the Mishnah as technical language, a conclusion that is largely doubted by most scholars of Hebrew.

This book can be safely ignored. A really excellent and recent English language book about the rise of Hebrew as a spoken vernacular has yet to be written.