Reviewed by: Yiddish Writers in Weimar Berlin: A Fugitive Modernism by Marc Caplan Jessica Kirzane Marc Caplan. Yiddish Writers in Weimar Berlin: A Fugitive Modernism. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2021. 394 pp. Marc Caplan's recent monograph, Yiddish Writers in Weimar Berlin: A Fugitive Modernism, examines the work of a small group of avant-garde male Yiddish writers working in Berlin during the Weimar Republic, in conjunction with figures working in German-language literature, critical theory, journalism, and film during the same period. Caplan limits his study to Yiddish writers in Berlin who later returned to the Soviet Union, and to German Jewish figures who identified with Jewishness and expressed their identity as an experience of "permanent exile" (20). He interprets the work of his Yiddish writers through "the aesthetic categories developed in the experimental culture of the Weimar Republic," claiming that "it is from the periphery … that modernism articulates its most productive critiques of modernity" (5). In particular, Caplan is interested in theorizing the writers he studies through the concepts of allegory, the baroque, and melancholy. Caplan's study follows his previous work theorizing peripheral modernisms through a comparative lens in How Strange the Change: Language, Temporality, [End Page 193] and Narrative Form in Peripheral Modernisms (Stanford University Press, 2011), this time taking into account the positionality of recent and temporary refugees residing and producing literature in Berlin during the interwar period. Caplan demonstrates that through their complicated vectors of allegiance and cultural context—producing work for export to the Yiddish diaspora yet situated in a European center for literary modernism—these writers managed to create literature of particular "aesthetic and emotional complexity" (7). In his work, Caplan demonstrates the formal as well as thematic components of the displacement and upheaval their writing expresses, with particular focus on their conceptions of space and time. With regard to time, Caplan is interested in the question of belatedness, a concept also recently taken up by literary scholars of Jewish modernisms such as Harriet Murav, Abigail Gillman, and Jordan Finkin. As Caplan defines it, drawing upon Walter Benjamin, belatedness is "the unsettled feeling of not coinciding with the present moment" which "prompts a longing for bygone feelings either as a means of connecting to a tradition of continuity and belonging or as a romance of previous eras … [that] provides a reproach to a current moment of mechanical, mass-produced material culture" (18). Caplan differentiates between German Jewish modes of belatedness, which he describes as "melancholic" in contrast to those of Yiddish authors, characterized by "mourning." For Caplan, "melancholy" is a condition not only of longing for home, but of having lost "faith in the concept of home as such"—a lack of connection to past or present or future (20). "Mourning," on the other hand, comes from a more rooted and specific knowledge of the home that is now obsolete, and suggests a more linear conception of time, in which the past has died and the future may yet be born. Part 1 considers David Bergelson (1884–1952) in comparison with Alfred Döblin (1878–1957). Describing Döblin's Reise in Polen (Journey to Poland, 1925) as characterized by the author's melancholic measuring of his own distance from Yiddish and Jewish tradition, Caplan argues that Bergelson shares Döblin's belief in the obsolescence of the Jewish past but is oriented toward connecting Jews, currently in an uncertain, politically impotent status, with the future of Soviet Communism. Also examining Bergelson's writing about Jewish refugee life in Berlin, Caplan further concludes that Bergelson's Berlin-focused writing about the anonymity and alienation of urban space is consistent with his shtetl writing, as both critique the modern era for trapping human subjects in circumstances in which they have no agency. Part 2 focuses on two narratives by Yiddish modernist Der Nister ("The Hidden One," Pinkhes Kahanovitsh, 1884–1950) in conversation with the stories of Hasidic storyteller Rebbe Naḥman of Bratslav (1772–1810), his German-language contemporary E. T. A. Hoffman (1776–1822), and the German film Der blaue Engel (The Blue Angel, 1930). These comparisons draw attention to the belatedness of Yiddish cultural production, placing a "Yiddish Baroque" proximate to...
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