#dtcl

A Jewish character? In a period right after WW2? Could there be, for once, proper religious representation in the media? My mind was full of ideas for how DTCL could approach his Yiddishkeit, how easy it would be for them! His name is Daniel? Have a cute little scene where he corrects someone’s pronunciation from DAN-iel to dah-NI-el. Negotiating to not work on Saturday, or feeling guilty or conflicted over it. Bringing home a nice tichel for his mother, who as a seamstress would appreciate fine fabric craftsmanship. Yiddish falling into conversation. A Rabbi mentor to show the difference between the two environments he was in. There were so many wonderful options, but I knew not to hope too hard. 

Just like the JDS itself, it was too good to be true. 

I had not read the book until today, because I had been gut punched by the information my friends had given me that there was hardly any mention of his Jewishness at all. The bite was worsened by it’s advertizing as a Jewish character. Which… barely.

The reality of the book hurt.

A lot.

So much so that it is what turned me away from the canon lore at all. 

I could not even read it because I did not want my disappointment to be worse, as it already stung like a wasp had managed to get into my heart. So for three years, this has just been sitting on my mind. This little nagging feeling of loss. The loss of something I never should have even hoped for.

But hey, we all want to be represented. 

It’s only so disappointing when it's simply a brownie card. 

I will go in order of the book of how it is written, and only focus on the Jewish side of things, despite my qualms with the writing itself as well, and other historical inaccuracies, and of those there are many. Nor will I mention my personal opinions on ‘shoulds and woulds’ of the personality of a Yid. No matter how hard that is for my critical mind. 

Right off the bat, we’re treated to the lovely Lower East Side! I have personal friends whose family is from that location during that time period, back when it was a whopping 70% Jewish population. Funnily enough, there is not a single reference to any synagogues or Yeshivot or klezmer bands or gemachs or… anything that was very prevalent in the area. In fact, it subtly pushes the whole concept of “Dirty Jew” in a way that tries to sugarcoat it with “look at how unfortunate Buddy’s situation is!” instead of the actual perceptions that have for so long followed the footsteps of almost any Jewish person. Antisemitism forced many Jews in the 1880s to move into slum like areas, and the entire conception had evolved from such a constricted environment. It is true that hygiene was an issue, however, when you take thousands of vastly poor, largely unsecularly educated, mass immigrants and try to cram them all in one place because no one could afford to travel- you get a lack of cleanliness. Such is life. The fact that the book does not touch on the reason aside from a causal reference that the people there were hard workers about a hundred pages later leans even heavier into that assumption. 

Assuming that Mr. Schwartz was Jewish (or even not) the garment industry of the time would not have cared if a delivery boy would have quit. There was, again, a massive influx of fresh and desperate workers who would work for little wages and long hours. It bothered me because one is to assume Mr. Schwartz was Jewish due to the time period and how prevalent Jews are in the garment industry, especially historically. During this time period especially, Jewish disunion in said industry were at record highs, so one person quitting would mean nothing. There would always be another person to fill the gap… and likely at a lower wage. 

Buddy’s knowledge of the war is also constantly shifting and disturbing in the way that it glosses over the Holocaust part of the Holocaust. He mentions that he knows about the War, hell, his father died in it, but he makes no reference to knowing why. In every single Jewish community, religious or otherwise, the Holocaust was a major issue. People excused FDR’s inaction due to the good he was giving to Jews already in America. Everyone knew about what was going on, even little kids. There is no reason he should be surprised about his Grandfather’s arrival. There is no reason that he would recognize his Grandfather’s accent, either, as there is no mention of anyone else with such an accent. As a child of immigrants, I cannot hear their accents, and that’s something I have noticed a lot of other first generation Americans do as well. So even if Buddy’s mother had a Polish accent, then it is still very unlikely that he would have recognized it. On the term of Grandfathers, how the hell does he not know the term Zeyde living in a community that, even today, dominantly speaks Yiddish? Especially considering the fact that Zeyde is a word that any schmuck off the street would know. 

Let’s consider Buddy’s nickname now. As Dot mentions, yes, Danny (pronounced dah-NI) or Dan would be more likely. But it’s because he was a little helper! Surely nicknames like Buddy would suit that purpose well! If he had been purely Polish, then maybe. But because he is a Yid in the LES, that is a hard no. The nickname would have been Ah klineh Menchie. A mensch is a boy that is very well mannered and always looking to help. Menchie is a very common nickname for such a personality even today. Being called “Buddy” makes no sense in such a community. 

The word “Jew” is not used in the book at all. There are only two uses of the word “Jewish”, all the way on page one hundred. Removing this from the book would have changed nothing. In fact, I would have found it a far more enjoyable read, reminding people that it was not just Jews who had been massacred and murdered in the camps. It would have gotten rid of the question. 

The question.

That question. 

“You’re Jewish, right?”

First and foremost, due to Buddy’s portrayal, Dot had absolutely no reason to assume that he was Jewish. Everyone knew that all those against the Nazis were put into the camps or simply murdered. This is what nailed the coffin shut for me. I wish they would have made him Polish, and Polish alone. I already knew what to expect thanks to my friend’s warning three years prior, but I still could not help but feel utter disappointment and hurt with Buddy’s defensive response. Defensive. This trait would not come up in Jews for many more years since the 1880s, all the way until the 1980s. As a frankly completely non Jewish boy who happens to have Jewish blood, he would have shrugged it off. Instead, the book uses both mentions of, not even Judaism, but Jewishness, to bring up antisemitism in a historically inaccurate and nauseating way. No Jewish pride. No casual agreement. Not even confusion before recognition. Defensive and angry. 

Soul crushing. My disappointment is immense and my lack of surprise is larger. 

Needless to say, my motivation to finish the book had been axed sharply, and the next chapter, chapter 10, was the last I managed to read with a critical eye, especially because it is the end of any possible hope. The rest of the book fails to have anything else historical or cultural of value. 

Buddy displays no Yiddishkeit. He does not wear a kippah, he does not wear tzitzit, he does not even recognize Yiddish. No kosher, no Shabbat, no chagim or zmanim. Hell, he eats out with Mr. Drew at a restaurant, and even if the steak somehow had been kosher, he eats cheesecake directly after. Nebach. No hashkafa at all.

The end of the chapter is what turned off my brain, however.

Using the term ‘Never again’ with said not kosher food. 

Well. 

Do I even have to explain how belittling that is? Do I have to say why this leaves me numb? Do I have to continue reading with thought, only for more pain?

Dai li. Enough for me. 

I finished the book. Of course I did. I haven’t left a book unfinished in years. 

The rest I read hollowly. There was nothing for me in it. It had an okay story, fine plot points, and tied into the game. More or less. Mainly just used the names and slapped on a BatIM sticker.

Dreams come to life, sometimes.

Not this time, Control. Keep dreaming.