Wicked Ways Research Articles

Savagery and Civilization: Joseph Conrad’s "The Heart of Darkness"

This research paper highlights Joseph Conrad’s satirical portrayal of "The Heart of Darkness" and shows how the white European people, the colonizers, take their lead in the novel to be civilized enough to go over the world and civilize people. Among those people the black people of Dark Continent Africa who were marginalized in the novel and to be called ‘uncivilized’ and ‘savage’ people. Some great empires like the British Empire used the cover of the civilization so as to achieve their desires over the third world countries. Joseph Conrad in his Heart of Darkness talked about these important themes, by showing the hypocritical ways that the British Empire used to colonize the third world countries and how did they use wicked plans to convince the world with their occupation. The British Empire colonized Africa so as to exploit their main resources, especially ivory, to use them in their manufactories. Also, this study aims to show how the British Empire used the cover of religion so as to convince the world of their deeds and to make them legal. This study focuses on the real ‘savagery’ concealing under the cover of ‘civilization’ and the real darkness existing inside the veil of white men. This study is based on historical research linked with a political background of imperialism. This study comes to its conclusion by showing the wicked ways that great empires used to colonize other countries, like Great British, and their policy to spread their control.

The Prophets

The Prophets Fred W. Guyette, Brian J. Meldrum, Timothy M. Rucker, Christopher T. Begg, Thomas Hieke, and Richard A. Taylor 2567. [The Prophets of Israel] James K. Hoffmeier, The Prophets of Israel: Walking the Ancient Paths (Grand Rapids: Kregel Academic, 2021). Pp. 398. $45. ISBN 978-0825445729. H. draws on his extensive knowledge of ANE culture, geography, and political realities to situate the prophets and their message in their historical contexts. Abraham can be thought of as the first prophet, on account of the way he pleaded as an intercessor for the lives of those in Sodom and Gomorrah. But it was Moses who became the prototype of Israel's prophets, because in Exodus 3 and 4, God gave him a message to deliver to Pharaoh: "Let My people go!" It was also Moses who taught Israel about the meaning of their covenant with God in Exodus 20, following a treaty pattern described by Kenneth Kitchen: (Preamble/Historical Prologue/Stipulations/Deposition of Text and Public Reading/Witnesses/Blessings/Curses). Speaking of generations to come, God said: "I will raise up for them a prophet like Moses, and he will tell them everything I command him" (Deut 18:18). Who were these prophets? Samuel called on Israel to always remain faithful to God as their king. He advised them not to seek a human king "like the other nations." Yet, the people did not listen, and Saul became king. Saul made a good beginning as a military leader of Israel, but he did not heed Samuel's prophetic words, so the kingdom was taken away from [End Page 962] him and given to David. It was the prophet Nathan who became the voice of conscience to King David after his affair with Bathsheba and his betrayal of Uriah. Elijah the prophet confronted the idolatry and injustices of King Ahab and Queen Jezebel, and he prepared Elisha, who became his worthy successor. Amos was the prophet who used a plumbline as an image of God's judgment on Israel's wicked ways. Hosea's message was: Israel has played the harlot, but God remains a faithful covenant partner to Israel. Jonah, like Hosea, knows that God is loving and forgiving, but that knowledge is problematic for him: Jonah would rather see the great city of Nineveh go up in flames. The prophet Isaiah anticipates a Messiah, a Suffering Servant who will come to save Israel, and his words are quoted in the NT more than 60 times. It took great courage for the prophet Jeremiah to keep delivering God's message to Israel, because that message was rejected over and over. Eventually, Jeremiah became a witness to historical catastrophe, as Jerusalem fell to Babylon and many of the people went into exile. Still, he anticipated a day when there would be a New Covenant between God and his people. In Babylon, the prophet Ezekiel was deeply committed to Israel's priestly traditions. Ezekiel comforted the exiles with visionary descriptions of dry bones coming back to life, a New Temple, and a River of Life. This is a book that would be very suitable for classroom use at the college level. Full-color photos, maps, and images of historical and cultural importance abound. Helpful discussion questions for students and instructors also appear at the end of each chapter.—F.W.G. 2568. [Isaiah 1–39] Matthew J. Lynch, First Isaiah and the Disappearance of the Gods (Critical Studies in the Hebrew Bible 12; University Park, PA: Eisenbrauns, 2021). Pp. 144. Paper $39.95. ISBN 978-1-57506-839-8. Ten of the eighteen occurrences of the term ʾlylym (usually translated as "idols") in the Hebrew Bible are found in Isaiah 1–39. L. explores the possibility that First Isaiah uses the term to avoid characterizing other deities and idols as "gods" or ʾlhym. Using this linguistic phenomenon as a point of departure, L. reexamines the rhetorical strategies of First Isaiah, thereby uncovering a stronger monotheizing rhetoric than previously recognized. Standard accounts of Israelite religion frequently insist that monotheism reached its apex during the exile, and especially in Deutero-Isaiah. By contrast, L.'s study brings to light an equally...

Robert the Devil: The First Modern English Translation of Robert le Diable, an Anonymous French Romance of the Thirteenth Century trans. by Samuel N. Rosenberg

Reviewed by: Robert the Devil: The First Modern English Translation of Robert le Diable, an Anonymous French Romance of the Thirteenth Century trans. by Samuel N. Rosenberg Nicholas D. Brodie Rosenberg, Samuel N., trans., Robert the Devil: The First Modern English Translation of Robert le Diable, an Anonymous French Romance of the Thirteenth Century, University Park, PA, The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2018; paperback; pp. 168; R.R.P. US $19.95; ISBN 9780271080161. In describing this text, translator Samuel N. Rosenberg describes it as 'basically the tale of a boy born to a childless noble couple only after the mother has secretly called on Satan to help her conceive' (p. 1). This dark start, the reader soon learns, is borne out by a week-long labour. While handsome, Robert is a violent child. He is prone to biting while nursing, frightening his teachers, and attacking the poor. The naughty boy grows into a troublesome man, causing the Pope to deny Robert communion and ultimately leading Robert's father to boot him out of home. Robert then takes to the forest and a career in highway robbery. As knighthood is seen as a potential cure of his wicked ways, Robert is knighted. Yet while he then tourneys with brutal effectiveness, he remains a malevolent force. Evidencing this is the fact that he does not pray, and a shocking event where he massacres a house of nuns. Only then, with a moment of self-reflection, does Robert question his path in life. Seeking answers, Robert threatens his mother before heading to Rome. There the Pope redirects him to a hermit in the mountains where, with tears and mass, Robert seeks salvation and is put under a strict penitential regime. Robert must play at being mad, be silent, and fast. And so he does, all the way to the Emperor's palace, where he becomes a court fool. Which proves just as well, for from there he three times rescues Rome. Incognito, Robert turns the tide of each battle, riding a fine white horse and slipping back into penitential disguise afterwards, observed only by a mute princess whose tale of Robert's heroics is disbelieved. Throw in a side story of a scheming and disloyal seneschal, and you have the gist of the narrative arc, leading ultimately to a decidedly medieval twist. Translations should be measured against their purpose, and Rosenberg easily meets his declared intentions. This is 'a work suitable for recitation, a work whose rhythms and sonorities bespeak the presence […] of a storyteller' (p. 5). Whether as teaching aid or pleasure read, this translation of Robert's tale brings medieval Europe to life with aplomb. [End Page 304] Nicholas D. Brodie Hobart, Tasmania Copyright © 2020 Nicholas D. Brodie

KIM JEST AMFINOGEN KRYŻANOWSKI – TAJEMNICZY MNICH Z SATYRY SYMEONA Z POŁOCKA

Morality pieces belong to the mainstream of baroque poetry. This genre was frequently and aptly exploited by Symeon of Polotsk. In one of his works he turned his verse into a shrewd satire dressed up as birthday wishes to a mysterious clergyman. The monk, Amfinogen Kryżanowski was a real figure and, according to scarce historical sources, he made himself known mostly owing to the wicked ways in which he conducted himself. Symeon of Polotsk directed the sword of his satire at him, incensed by the fact that Kryżanowski smeared Peter Mogila, Symeon’s beloved tutor and mentor at the Kiev Academy. In this paper, the author dissects the poem, traces the fortunes of the infamous monk and concludes that Symeon took an active interest in both the social and political upheavals of his time.

Anne of the Wicked Ways: Perceptions of Anne Boleyn as a Witch in History and in Popular Culture

In life and in death, Anne Boleyn has always invited controversy. On the one hand, she was that 'godly lady and queen' under whom 'the religion of Christ most happily flourished'. But to her detractors, Anne was the very 'scandal of Christendom'. A prevailing view that commonly appears in both scholarly and popular texts is that Anne was either perceived in her time as a witch or was indeed a witch. However, this essay argues that such a perception is relatively recent – one created in the earlier part of the twentieth century, sustained by modern writers and historians, and in popular culture. It demonstrates that Anne was never regarded as such by her contemporaries or by those who were critical of her.

How Repentance Became Biblical: Judaism, Christianity, and the Interpretation of Scripture by David A. Lambert

Reviewed by: How Repentance Became Biblical: Judaism, Christianity, and the Interpretation of Scripture by David A. Lambert Lesley R. DiFransico david a. lambert, How Repentance Became Biblical: Judaism, Christianity, and the Interpretation of Scripture (New York: Oxford University Press, 2016). Pp. xiii + 266. $74. Lambert challenges the long history of interpretive practices of reading repentance into the Hebrew Bible and explores the development of the concept of repentance and how it was appropriated in early Judaism and Christianity. Whereas others identify the ancient Israelite rituals of fasting, prayer, and confession as penitential, L. argues that such practices do not portray signs of repentance or evidence of "inner remorse" but rather serve other functions. L. suggests that this "penitential lens" involves interpretive strategies of expressivity, intentionality, teleology, and nominalization, problematic means of interpretation based on human subjectivity, interiority, virtue, didacticism and autonomy that serve to read a false focus into the Hebrew Bible texts. L. rightly calls such methods of interpretation into question, challenges readers to reassess the ways in which they approach the texts of the Hebrew Bible, and cautions against reading into the text concepts not in the mind or world-view of the ancient Israelite. Part 1 of the book addresses rites, including fasting, prayers of appeal, and confession. In each case, L. explores how such rituals are interpreted through the penitential lens such that the action is identified with the performer's intention and experience of inward penitence. He argues that they should be considered in the context of the complex of other behaviors. In chap. 1, L. suggests fasting as a response to disaster, an act of mourning and communication of grief. Fasting and applying ashes and sackcloth are outward demonstrations of suffering. In conjunction with prayer, fasting has the potential to move the deity to respond to the distress. The ritual is not about contrition and forgiveness; it is an act of self-deprivation, a manifestation of distress, and an appeal to divine mercy. In chap. 2, L. presents a critique of finding a "contrite heart" in prayers that, for ancient Israel, were focused on "appeal" in response to suffering, intended to elicit a response from the deity to act. For some psalms in which allusions to sinfulness are included, L. suggests that the acknowledgment of sin is an attempt to admit guilt and ask God to overlook it. In chap. 3, L. acknowledges that confession and repentance have become so closely associated that confession is rarely evaluated in light of other contexts or purposes. Confession, viewed as an expression of an inward state, often includes no explicit reference to repentance, as in the phrase, "I have sinned against you." The speech act acknowledges the relational state between wrongdoer and victim, a "juridicial truth." In terms of the divine–human relationship, confession is about enumerating sins so as to prepare for the removal of the consequences, the sin–suffering complex. Excluding the possibility of repentance [End Page 329] from such confession contexts in which sin is explicitly mentioned, as L. does with Psalm 51, feels like a stretch of the argument. In my reading, Psalm 51, while lacking explicit reference to repentance, conveys through the psalmist's intense poetic expression the experience of remorse, or perhaps L. is right that this is the influence of years of reading through a "penitential lens." Part 2 of the book addresses language and pedagogy. In chap. 4, L. explores the terminology of "(re)turn to Yhwh," the nominalization of šûb and the association of the term with repentance. L. suggests understanding the term as associated with an act of appeal to Yhwh, a movement toward encounter with the deity. L. traces the development of the use of šûb from appeal to relational use to, in later texts, turning away from wicked ways. In chap. 5, L. addresses the pedagogical function of scriptural texts, power, and the prophetic utterance. Prophets are wrongly understood as "preachers of repentance," argues L.; such exhortations became the focus of later Deuteronomistic editors, not the prophets themselves. Rather than viewing prophetic words as describing inner workings of the audience, the words have efficacy, the potential to deconstruct and make things happen. Prophetic utterances are...

Sisters

Sisters Shirley Geok-lin Lim (bio) When Yen was seven, she took Su Swee to the Methodist School playground and placed her on the swing. Su thought the swing was a dumb hairy animal, its plank seat hanging unbalanced on fraying hemp, a loose swinging head suspended by ropes of frizzy hair. “Swing, swing!” Yen chanted, pushing the dangling seat into the air, and Su felt the rush of a large animal against her cheeks. It rustled its mysterious paws in her hair. She smelled its breath up close in her nostrils—something sharp, ammoniacal, like the fumy air from the caustic soda bottles in Ah Voon’s storeroom—before she wetted herself. “Aiiyah,” Yen scolded, “good for nothing, scaredy cat!” “Not so little, already five, how you marry if cannot keep your pee in?” Ah Voon grumbled when she changed Su out of her soiled clothes. “Swing, swing,” Su mumbled, trying to keep the new word in her mouth a little longer. At five Su believed words were a kind of magic, conjuring ways to protect her from Ah Voon’s tough caretaker’s hands; when Yen and Su talked—Yen more talk and Su more ear—words invaded invisibly, placing unseen, powerful beings into their everyday lives. Later, Su found that words could still the irregular, dancing visions that so terrified her, wordless, behind closed eyelids, and steady the motes into print, which became story and meaning. Su remembered the first day Yen came home from Methodist School speaking a strange new language called English. Wah, a new magic in this world, and one better for being black magic to Ah Voon, who could only scold them in noisy Hokkien, crackling like strings of firecrackers. Not listening to her scolding, the sisters spoke more and more English—elegant, chirpy, difficult—to each other, leaving Ah Voon ignorant of their wicked ways. Yen brought back new words for Su each day. Separate words like colored fragments, falling, shifting, breaking out in dreamy shapes inside a kaleidoscope. Or like dried plasticine figures, brittle, snapping as Su forced them out: England. Asia. China. America. House. Father. Mother. Baby. Man. Woman. Brother. Sister. Dog. Cat. House. Tree. Bird. Aeroplane. Sky. See. Run. Yen laughed because the words scratched Su’s throat and crumbled into [End Page 137] messy pieces as she tried to repeat them. But Su didn’t mind her laughter. Su liked the way the sounds scattered, pulling her out of Ah Voon’s lap and into places Ah Voon couldn’t follow. Su didn’t mind Yen even when she kicked and bit, screaming no words until her face turned pink, then purple. It was the wind entering into her, Ah Voon explained, a bad wind unbalancing her body’s hot and cold and making her sick. Mama said she was just a no-good eldest sister. Su knew Yen only wanted her to grow up faster so they could play better together. Because of Yen’s biting, Mama didn’t send Su to Methodist School. Instead she went to the Government School. Su liked Government School better because Yen had taught her English words and how to swing. The earth under the school playground’s ten swings was scraped hard by hundreds of pairs of canvas shoes bumping on it every day. At recess, Su’s classmates crowded into the tuck-shop for curry puffs and sticky sweet orangeade. She planted her feet on the grassless dried hollow and pushed off alone on the swing. Once in the air she stood on the seat, pumping the swing higher and higher until it was flashing above the ixora bushes, higher than the young coconut palms by the toilets, until she was almost a bird rushing through the warm air, if she would only let go. Swooping up and falling down, hands gripping the woven hemp, air humming under feet, addicted to flying but more afraid of tumbling off—and so, at last, slowing down, out of breath and hungry. Then the hot blue sky reeled by as she ran with the other children, without Ah Voon or Mama shouting, “Don’t be a tomboy! Don’t get burned in...

Passive Messianism: To a More Pro-Active Approach

Passive messianism represented a condition as well as an ideology that influenced Jewish behavior based on the interpretation of their religious text. For instance, ever since their return from Babylonian captivity, Jews have believed that the reason for their exile from Jerusalem was due to God’s sovereign authority to punish them for not abiding in the Torah. The Tanak (Hebrew Bible) supports this claim. It is filled with stories of how Jewish Prophets prayed for God’s mercy as well as prophesized throughout the Jewish community the message of repentance. One such message appears in the book of II Chronicles 7:14. It states that “If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.” Such passages are typically found throughout the Tanak, and plainly suggest why exiled Jews tended to allow themselves to be victimized, electing to wait on divine intervention to solve their problems. Moreover, Robert Seltzer in his book “Jewish People Jewish Thought” tries to explain Jewish passiveness when he writes, “Ancient Israel received from God the gifts of land and statehood solely in order to be able to carry out the Torah. Later, Israel was exiled from the holy land to enable it to perfect itself and to fulfill its mission by remaining faithful to God and the Torah, despite suffering and agony”(587). This passage seems to suggest that Jews accepted their condition as part of some sort of divine purpose. Furthermore, the appearance of passive messianism during the 19th century is fully supported by a number of primary documents taken from that period. A case in point is the response published in 1819 by the Hamburg Rabbinical Court titled “These Are the Words of the Covenant.” This document clearly confirms and supports the claim that the behavior of Jews as a whole is passive, and is rooted in the rabbinical interpretation of their covenant relationship with God. The document states that “All the prophets have been unanimous in affirming that the God of our fathers would gather our scattered ones, and this is our hope throughout our exile.”

Border crossings and beyond: the life and works of Sandra Cisneros

Author of The House on Mango Street, which has sold more than two million copies in English alone, activist, MacArthur grant genius, figure of inspiration and controversy, Sandra Cisneros is unequivocally one of America's most important and much discussed contemporary literary figures. In a writing career that has spanned more than three decades, Cisneros has written acclaimed poetry and prose, including, My Wicked, Wicked Ways, Loose Woman, Woman Hollering Creek and Other Stories, and Caramelo, or, Puro Cuenta. Border Crossings and Beyond: The Life and Works of Sandra Cisneros traces the ways in which Cisneros's personal history, art, and influence are intertwined. The result is a revealing and multi-faceted portrait of the artist as writer, woman, and Mexican American. From a childhood defined by repeated migrations between Texas and Mexico, to the Chicano and women's movements, and the impact of her father's death, author Carmen Haydee Rivera offers a comprehensive and thoughtful engagement of Cisneros's writings, as well as her tremendous personal struggles and significant gifts. It will become mandatory reading for those who wish to understand the significance and power of Cisneros's contribution to Latina/o literature and American letters.

Partners in Motion: Gender, Migration, and Reform in Antebellum Ohio and Kansas

In December 1861, six young women armed with hatchets and axes marched into a saloon in Mound City, Kansas, and proceeded to smash all the bottles and kegs they could find. One of the ringleaders was twenty-four-year-old Sarah Grimk6 Wattles. While her collaborators, her younger sisters Emma and Mary Ann and the Botkin sisters, kept the bartender busy, Sarah walked out onto the street, where a whisky drummer had stopped his wagon and was standing with a group of onlookers enjoying the show. Sarah calmly strolled around the wagon and opened all the spigots on the barrels, letting the whiskey run onto the street. The drummer accosted Sarah, threatening to strike her down, but Amelia Botkin stepped between them and promised to split his head open with her hatchet if he did not back off. Townspeople intervened and nearly lynched him for even suggesting that he might hit a woman. Sarah, Emma, and Mary Ann, almost drunk from the whisky fumes, returned home as conquering heroines.' Everyone agreed that their fledgling frontier town was much better off without the pernicious presence of the saloon. Even the bartender, By Hildreth, years later thanked Emma Wattles for turning him from his wicked ways.2 The Wattles girls moved to Kansas in 1855 with their parents, Augustus and Susan Wattles, who had worked for the abolition of slavery since the mid183os. Along with Augustus's brother and his wife, John and Esther Wattles, they migrated from New England to Ohio, lived in many places in Ohio and Indiana, and then moved out to Kansas to work for the free-state cause after the passage of the Kansas-Nebraska Act. Like many abolitionists, both Wattles families embraced other reforms including temperance, diet reform, and women's rights. They passed their progressive views about the need to improve society and to expand opportunities for women on to their children, especially to their daughters. For the Wattles, migration became a necessary means for accomplishing gender reform. In their mobility, the Wattles family typified Americans of the nineteenth

Building the Chicana Body in Sandra Cisneros' "My Wicked Wicked Ways"

The article analyzes the corporeal subjectivity developed in My Wicked Wicked Ways , from the early poems' focus on the young girl's difficult struggle to negotiate her Chicago barrio's economic, spatial, and physical violence against the bodies and sexuality of women and children to the final poems' portrayal of an adult woman and her body's extensive ontological and epistomological rootedness in global affairs. This is the first article to provide a comprehensive critique of My Wicked Wicked Ways that argues for the existence of a singular poetic voice that both makes the collection coherent and allows for the recognition of the work as the description of one Chicana subject's chronological and spatial journey.

Building the Chicana Body in Sandra Cisneros' My Wicked Wicked Ways

The article analyzes the corporeal subjectivity developed in My Wicked Wicked Ways, from the early poems' focus on the young girl's difficult struggle to negotiate her Chicago barrio's economic, spatial, and physical violence against the bodies and sexuality of women and children to the final poems' portrayal of an adult woman and her body's extensive ontological and epistomological rootedness in global affairs. This is the first article to provide a comprehensive critique of My Wicked Wicked Ways that argues for the existence of a singular poetic voice that both makes the collection coherent and allows for the recognition of the work as the description of one Chicana subject's chronological and spatial journey.

An Interview with Sandra Cisneros

AN INTERVIEW WITH SANDRA CISNEROS SANDRA CISNEROS Sandra Cisneros, former recipient of a prestigious MacArthur grant, is the author of a number of books, including the novella The House on Mango Street, the short-story collection Woman Hollering Creek and Other Stories and the poetry collections My Wicked Wicked Ways and Loose Woman. Her first novel, Caramelo, will be published by Knopf in October. Gayle Elliott is assistant professor of English/Creative Writing and coordinator of Women's Studies at Stephens College. Her short fiction and literary criticism have appeared in Writer's Forum, The International Guide to the Short Story in English and The Journal ofModern Literature, among others. She is currently editing a book of interviews with fiction writers for the Society for the Study of the Short Story. 96 · The Missouri Review Sandra Cisneros An Interview with Sandra Cisneros/Gayle Elliott Interviewer: What is your definition of a short story? Cisneros: I don't know what the definition of a short story is, and I don't even care to answer that question. That's something somebody in academia would think about. Ijust want to tell a story, and ifpeople listen , and if it stays with you, it's a story. For me, a story's a story if people want to hear it; it's very much based on oral storytelling. And for me, a story is a story when people give me the privilege of listening when Tm speaking it out loud, whether Tm reading it in a banquet hall for a convention and it's the waitresses and busboys who are looking up from their jobs, or whether it's across an ice house table (ice house is an outdoor bar here in San Antonio), or whether it's a group of my girlfriends when we're having soup. Its power is that it makes people shut up and listen, and not many things make people shut up and listen these days. They remember it, and it stays with them without their having to take notes. They wind up retelling it, and it affects their lives, and they'll never look at something the same way again. It changes the way they think, in other words. Interviewer: What about a story makes it memorable? Cisneros: Well, it's obviously meeting some need that you have in your life. It's memorable because it makes you either laugh or cry. If a story's really good, it does both. Sometimes it's not the story's fault if it doesn't stay with you, because you're too old or too young for it. I feel that, in the Native American sense, the story cycles; there are different times of your life that a story may come to you. You don't remember it, and then you hear it again or read it again later in your life, and because of what's happened in your life it's distinct from the first time you heard it. The story speaks to you then. We may say, "Oh, that story didn't do anything for me," instead of saying, "Tm not ready for that story." We The Missouri Review · 97 blame the author or the story itself; but I really think that you have to hear a good story at the right time in your life. Interviewer: And then it will resonate. Cisneros: Yes, because it was a story that was necessary to you. Interviewer: Do you classify yourself in a particular way: minimalist, magical realist, postmodernist? It would seem to me that you classify yourself maybe more as a storyteller. Cisneros: I don't classify myself as any of those things because I don't know what that means, and I don't have to know. It's not my job to be classifying my stories. Interviewer: What was the process by which you came to understand what your particular gift or stamp would be? Cisneros: You learn things in spirals, you know, and I learned it when I was in graduate school. I've written and talked a lot about that— when we were in seminar, and I was so intimidated when we were...

The Excommunication of Spinoza: Trouble and Toleration in the "Dutch Jerusalem"

The Excommunication of Spinoza: Trouble and Toleration in the JerusalemBaruch de Spinoza, one of the most important philosophers of his time, and certainly the most radical, was excommunicated from Amsterdam's Sefardic synagogue at the age of twenty-four. The immediate reasons for the cherem pronounced against him remain hidden, although there are some good reasons for thinking that he was already propounding the heretical views that are found in his later writings. In this essay, however, I look closely at the political context for Spinoza's excommunication, especially in the relationship between Amsterdam's Jews and Dutch society.In 1656, the synagogue used by Amsterdam's Portuguese Jewish congregation, Talmud Torah, was a large house on the Houtgracht, one of the main thoroughfares of the city's Jewish quarter. On the sixth of Av, 5416 (July 27), the following text was read in Hebrew from the synagogue's ark:The lords of the ma'amad, having long known of the evil opinions and acts of Baruch de Spinoza, they have endeavored by various means and promises, to turn him from his evil ways. But having failed to make him mend his wicked ways, and, on the contrary, daily receiving more and more serious information about the heresies which he practiced and and about his deeds, and having for this numerous trustworthy witnesses who have deposed and born witness to this effect in the presence of the said Espinoza, they became convinced of the truth of this matter; and after all of this has been investigated in the presence of the honorable chachamim, they have decided, with their consent, that the said Espinoza should be expelled and excommunicated from the people of Israel. By decree of the angels and by the command the holy men, we excommunicate, expel, curse and damn Baruch de Espinoza, with the consent of God, Blessed be He, and with the consent of the entire holy congregation, and in front of these holy scrolls with the 613 precepts which are written therein; cursing him with the excommunication with which Joshua banned Jericho and with the curse which Elisha cursed the boys and with all the castigations which are written in the Book of the Law. Cursed be he by day and cursed be he by night; cursed be he when he lies down and cursed be he when he rises up. Cursed be he when he goes out and cursed be he when he comes in. The Lord will not spare him, but the anger of the Lord and his jealousy shall smoke against that man, and all the curses that are written in this book shall lie upon him, and the Lord shall blot out his name from under heaven. And the Lord shall separate him unto evil out of all the tribes of Israel, according to all the curses of the convenant that are written in this book of the law. But you that cleave unto the Lord your God are alive every one of you this day.The document concludes with the warning that one should communicate with him, neither in writing, nor accord him any favor nor stay with him under the same roof nor within four cubits of his vicinity; nor shall he read any treatise composed or written by him. A Portuguese version was later entered into the community's record books.(1)We do not really know what exactly occasioned the excommunication, or cherem, of Baruch (or Bento, as he was known among the Portuguese) de Spinoza. He was twenty-three years old at the time, and had not yet published anything; nor, as far as we know, had he ever composed any treatise. We do not know what the abominable heresies which he practiced and taught were supposed to have been, nor what monstrous deeds he is alleged to have performed. It is most likely that he was, at this time, already saying the kinds of things to which he would give fuller and more systematic expression in his written works within ten years, opinions which no Jewish religious leader could possibly tolerate. In the Ethics, his philosophical masterpiece which he began in the early 1660s, Spinoza basically denies the personal immortality of the soul. …

Reflection: The Holocaust as Retributive Justice

The Holocaust as Retributive Justice Reflection: The Holocaust as Retributive Justice Daniel J. Lasker Ben-Gurion University ofthe Negev 97 In the fifty years since the end ofthe Holocaust, theologians ofevery persuasion have tried to make sense ofthat terrible event. One explanation, popular especially among the theological right wing ofJudaism (known as lfaredim in Hebrew, or "ultra-Orthodox" in English), contends that the Holocaust was visited upon the Jewish people as a punishment for their sins. While there is no unanimity as to what the sin was, there is general agreement that ultimately God was the author ofthe Holocaust, just as He is the author of all history. Ifthe Jewish people suffered greatly in the Holocaust, God must have had a good reason for inflicting this pain upon them. God's reason is' often explained by a number of theologians as divine retribution. Understandably, this explanation has found many detractors who find it deeply offensive. Neil Gillman, professor ofphilosophy at the Jewish Theological Seminary of America, has written: "One response that is almost universally rejected by all thinking segments ofthe community is that the Holocaust is God's punishment for Israel's sin. Ifthe Holocaust accomplished anything, it effectively killed the doctrine ofretribution as the key to Jewish theodicies. It may have worked for centuries, but today it is viewed as an obscenity. It has not been invoked by any but the most traditionalist wings ofthe Jewish community, by those who maintain the sanctity ofthe past, come what may. To everyone else, the sheer disparity between the 'explanation' and the event is so wide that it just does not merit serious consideration" (Sacred Fragments, Philadelphia, 1990, p. 202; all emphases in quotations have been added). From Gillman's point of view, anyone who maintains the theory that the Holocaust was divine retribution cannot be said to be part of the "thinking segments of the community"; such a theory does not even "merit serious consideration." Is Gillman's claim defensible? It seems to me that all ofthe arguments offered against the theory ofdivine retributive justice are basically emotional and not rational. This does not mean that those who have' argued for the Holocaust as retributive justice have proven their point. I intend to argue solely that those who say that we must come up with a new theodicy/theology'or that the Holocaust must serve as a new point ofdeparture because traditional theodicy/theology has failed, have not demonstrated this fact. My contention is valid regardless ofwhat reason is given for the divine retribution. 98 SHOFAR Spring 1997 Vol. 15, No.3 Furthennore, the discussion here is irrelevant to the question as to the existence of God. Obviously, ifone feels that slbe has proven the non-existence of God, then this also would prove that the Holocaust could not have been direct divine retributive justice. I am dealing, however, mostly with those who believe in God but do not believe that God was the cause of the Holocaust. This would include those who say that the Holocaust was possible because ofGod's hiding His face (hester panim, the view ofEliezer Berkovits or Joseph Dov Soloveitchik), or that the Holocaust was the occasion of a new divine command ("the commanding voice of Auschwitz" in Emil Fackenheim's tenns), or that Death of God theology must replace traditional theology/theodicy (such as Richard Rubenstein). The source ofthe idea ofdivine retributive justice in Judaism is in the Bible. The flood is visited upon the inhabitants of the earth because of their wicked ways. Sodom and Gomorrah were overturned because of the evil of their inhabitants, and the Temple was destroyed as a result ofIsrael's turning away from God. The underlying assumption ofboth the narrative and legislative portions ofthe Bible is that the righteous are rewarded and the evil-doers are punished. Deut. 11:13-21 (said twice daily in the traditional liturgy as part ofthe Shma) promises the Israelites that ifthey follow God's ways they will receive rain in its season and enjoy great prosperity. Other passages promise health, expanded boundaries, and peace. If, however, the Israelites do not fol1ow God's way, they will receive the exact opposite: famine, poverty, constricted...

Le dialogisme poétique de Sandra Cisneros

Dwelling on both Cisneros' poems, My Wicked Wicked Ways, and on her two collections of short stories, The House on Mango Street and Woman Hollering Creek, the article attempts to analyze the ways in which Cisneros' writings move beyond the cultural authenticity precept of Chicano literature. Through a permanent questioning of feminine identity in an increasingly heterogeneous world Cisneros reaches a more comprehensive vision of American society on both sides of the Mexican-American border.

Blessed Are All the "Little" Fishes

(A vast black stage-a platform in back with instruments on it: a viola, a tuba, a cello. Bubbles spewforth from bubble machine. The members of the orchestra, dressed informal attire, come walking across the stage, talking, and then they exit. A few seconds later, they enter again talking. They discover a pedestal with champagne bottle and glasses. They toast themselves, the audience, drink, and then smash theirglasses against the rear wall. They go to their instruments and tune up. They begin to play a Grand Overture, conveying the passion-the mood-the mystery of our infinite universe. It's as if the music is a ritual to bring forth the rains . . .tres passionato. It also coincides with the beginning of a man's binge-the beginning of a drunken man's deluded & dysfinctional journey through his life. Bubbles spew forth from the tuba-champagne pours freely. A drum beats madly a thunderous melee. The rain has begun. The VIOLA PLAYER comes downstage and is wearing flippers-a worm dangles form her bow-tense strains of music. VIOLA PLAYER begins to play-a MERMAID/MAN appears fiom offstage-floating, swimming in, seated on a toilet on wheels. The epitome of innocence, thumb in his/her mouth, sucking away. Sees worm on the bow & goes after it. VIOLA PLAYER lures him toward her. Instead of the worm, the fish ends up with a bottle of mescal with a worm at the bottom-still sucking away on the bottle. The MERMAID/MAN is up on his feet now, feelin' good. He falls into the audience sucking and kissing away at everyone-a cigarette appears in his hands; he alternates sucking on cig & bottle-suck, suck, suck and then the sound of changing TV channels. A dramatic soap snatch, an anti-drug & booze commercial, the voice ofJimmy Swaggart condemning man to hell 'cause of his wicked ways. The band plays along, creating a surreal, nightmarish environment. As the channels are changing away, the MERMAID/MAN begins to change. What were kissing & sucking are now gasping for air/choking sounds. He falls to the ground and begins to shed his fishskin. As Swaggart continues to condemn, the man can barely crawl-almost like a man stranded in the desert dying of thirst-he crawls towards the toilet that he foated out on. It becomes his oasis as he starts lapping up the water from the bowl. Swaggart continues on tape: But man's problem is this: to be saved, first of all you got to admit: I'm a sinner. I'm no good. I cannot save myself. I was born to go to hell. I deserve to go to hell. I have sinned. I am dirty. I am degrading. I am sin benighted. I am filthy. I am rotten. Swaggart is interrupted by Sinatra singing Drinking Again on tape:

Little Red Riding Hood Rides Again — and Again and Again and Again

Little Red Riding Hood Rides Again — and Again and Again and Again When I began teaching children's literature a few years ago, one of the things that most surprised me was the gulf between the books reviewers and critics discussed and the ones that were readily available to most children. I could find the books the experts recommended, in libraries or in the rare bookstore that had a reasonable assortment of children's titles. But meanwhile , every supermarket and toy department had its rack of Golden Books and Wonder Books and Tell-a-Tale Books and Pop-Up Books and Puppet Books. These were the books that gift-giving parents and grandmothers had the easiest access to; they were probably the only books that most children owned. Clearly a knowledge of these books was an Important part of my education in children's literature; I decided to investigate them. A glance at the racks showed me that the publishers of these series seemed to be very fond of "old favorites.** Perhaps they understood that the grownups who purchase these books feel safe with the familiar; perhaps they simply realized that "old favorites" are out of copyright and fair game for anyone who wants to make a few bucks. In any case, they had published a disproportionate number of versions of the best known fairy tales. I decided to concentrate on "Little Red Riding Hood," simply because it seemed to be the one most popular title. I found over thirty "Little Red Riding Hoods"; they are all different from each other, and they all offer surprising insights into our attitudes toward children and their literature. They are all based on two early versions — Charles Perrault's "Le Petit Chaperon Rouge," which was included in the first printed collection of fairy tales, the Histoires ou Contes du Temps Passé of 1697» and the Grimm Brothers* Rotkappchen, included in Kinderund Hausmarchen in 1812. But a look at these early versions shows that our ideas about what children ought to hear have changed greatly in the past few centuries. Perrault*s "Le Petit Chaperon Rouge" was a "little country girl,"i and her troubles stemmed from her ignorance of the great world; she "did not know how dangerous a thing it is to stay and hear a Wolfe talk." In fact, the wolf's ability to talk her into what he wanted from her was just as dangerous as his great teeth were. And what he wanted was obvious; Perrault dwells on his heroine's beauty, and says that she is "the prettiest little creature that ever was seen." After that, it seems only natural that the wolf talk Little Red into undressing and coming into bed with him. And once into bed, she comments, not just on the interesting largeness of his eyes, ears, and teeth, but also of his arms and legs. While no other parts of the body are mentioned, it is surprising to realize that men who take advantage of innocent females were not called wolves until two centuries after Perrault told his story. But the end of "Le Petit Chaperon Rouge" is even more surprising. When Little Red says, "Grandmama, what great teeth you have got!" the wolf answers, "'It is to eat thee up.' And upon saying these words, this wicked Wolfe fell upon the little Red Riding-Hood, and eat her up." And that is all — no helpful woodsman, no salvation in the nick of time. But Perrault did provide a moral: This story teaches that the very young And little girls, more surely than the rest — Sweet dainty things, clothed in their Sunday best — Should never trust a stranger's artful tongue. Small wonder if these guileless young beginners Provide the wolf with some of his best dinners. ^ Apparently knowledge of the wicked ways of the world is essential, even for children. The spicy story of "Ie petit chaperon rouge" is a cynic's knowing comment on innocence: innocence is stupid. We no longer believe that it is, and we work hard to protect the innocence of children, not only from wicked strangers, but also from stories in which children are devoured. It is not...

Panizzi and the Royal Society

THE “Life of Panizzi” by his friend and colleague, Mr. Louis Fagan,1 is marked by a tone of indiscriminate adulation which disfigures many specimens of modern biography. The hero is perfect, and they who think otherwise are dismissed with words of contempt, or are admonished to go and meditate on their wicked ways and then return in repentant mood to the community of hero-worshippers.