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T H E SOUTHERN
ISRAELITE
The Voice of His People
Ludwig Lewisohn, the Jew Finds Himself As a Writer
Had these lines been written ten years
ago, Ludwig Lewisohn might have been
described as a Jew merely by accident of
Today when one thinks of Ludwig
Lewisohn one things first not of the critic,
nor the stylist, nor the teacher—one thinks
of the Jew. One might almost write the
Jew. For Lewisohn’s life is the Jewish
problem. Whatever is truly epic in his
story is directly related to the Jewish
epic.
The outer story of Lewisohn’s life is
simple enough. He writes that there was
never a time when he was not a lover of
beauty, particularly of beauty in literature.
That love took creative form in a literary
style which is second to that of no contem
porary writer in English. Finding the writ
ing of pure literature, however, to be at
"least financially unremunerative, he turned
to the teaching of it. There he encountered
prejudice and discrimination, because of
his Jewish name and face and tradition—
because of what he afterwards recognized
to be his heritage of the Jewish spirit.
That heritage made it impossible for him
to join in the orgy of hatred which swept
America during the war days. As traitor,
pacifist, Jew, he was dismissed from the
University of Ohio where he had finally
found a place. Since that time he has re
turned to the field of purely creative and
critical literary work.
In itself hardly an epic tale. But as
Lewisohn points out, despite the terrible
vicissitudes of Jewish life, despite desper
ate if unsought adventures in the outer
world, the epic of the Jew had long been
one of mind and spirit, rather than of
action. It is an inner thing. So, also is the
story of Lewisohn. It is no tale of deeds
"i honors or achievements. Rather, one of
deepening insights, changing concepts,
widening horizons.
1 he beginning was the desire of a
'mg foreigner to become part of a new
a d, to live in its tradition, to interpene-
r ate its spirit with his own. Above all,
know and understand its cultural life
v ell that he might eventually contribute
• He early felt the existence somehow
ot barriers, w r as aware of a subtle dis-
tion concerning him in the minds of
r «—a difference between himself and
n. A look, a word, an unconscious ges-
—nothing more at first. But enough
1 then to warn him that the course
’’ue assimilation would not run smooth
least for a Jew. Very early he saw
his entry, in the deepest sense, into
rican life was to be no effortless
mscious thing.
was not daunted; he would break
the barriers, end the difference. He
d so prepare his mind, so steep him-
in thhe best of American tradition,
’nipletely devote his life and strength
ia t tradition, that eventually he would
re with it. Then slowly the devastat-
JAMES WATERMAN WISE
... Waterman Wise, a spokesman of
liberal Jewish youth, is responsible for U A
Jew Speaks, An Anthology From Ludwig
Lewisohn. In this article, Mr. Wise ex
plains why he sees in Ludwig Lewisohn’s
wntings the essence of Jewish life and
idealism.
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ing truth grew clear. The realization broke
upon him that that tradition did not really
want him, would hardly tolerate him,
would seek to shut him out. The long and
tender worship he had offered at the altar
of America constituted no reason, at least
in the minds of its native high-priests,
for allowing this alien youth entrance into
the inner sanctuary of American life and
culture. Was he not, after all, a Jew?
LUDWIG LEWISOHN
A Jew. Not of desire or purpose, to be
sure; not by his will or choice. His Jewish
ignorance was abysmal; his Jewish love
unaroused. Yet there was something alien,
different, Jewish about him, his person
ality, his mind. A difference existed, and
America, at least the America of college
board trustees and faculties, had no stom
ach for differences. It shut him out.
At first his exclusion took the form of
crassest discrimination and prejudice.
Jewish and Christian apologists are in the
habit of glossing over situations such as
he faced, of finding other causes, reasons,
excuses for them: the man was unfit, an
irritating personality, crude and vulgar.
These things have been said about Lewi
sohn as they have been said about other
men, in order to let sensitive Christians
avoid the unpleasant reality, in order to
let super-sensitive Jews deny it. They are
not true. The man is a scholar, a gentle
spirit, lovable. But he is a Jew. In that
and that only was he at fault.
Universities, to which he was recom
mended by the distinguished head of his
department at Columbia, would not engage
him because he was a Jew. He wrote a
letter of frank inquiry to the head of his
department. The answer was at once ver
dict and final sentence to his hope: “It is
very sensible of you to look so carefully
into your plans at this juncture, because
I do not at all believe in the wisdom of
your scheme. A recent experience has
shown me how terribly hard it is for a
man of Jewish birth to get a good posi
tion. I had always suspected that it was
a matter worth considering, but I had
not known how widespread and strong it
was. While we shall be glad to do any
thing we can for you, therefore, I cannot
help feeling that the chances are going
to l>e greatly against you.”
One might accuse of Lewisohn of mak
ing a great to-do about the hardly starling
discovery of the existence of anti-Semitism.
And had that been his own only discovery
the accusation would be justified. But it
was not. Great spirits forge of disaster
and defeat the surer weapons of the next
advance: “I sat in my boarding house
playing with this letter. ... I ate nothing
till evening when I went into a bakery,
and catching sight of myself in a mirror,
noted with dull objectivity my dark hair,
my melancholy eyes, my unmistakably
Semitic nose. ... An outcast. ... A sen
tence arose in my mind which I have re
membered and used ever since. So long as
there is discrimination, there is exile. And
for the first time in my life my heart
turned with grief and remorse to the
thought of my brethren in exile all over
the world. . . .” Out of his disillusionment
—this first glimpse of truth; out of his
sense of personal injury and injustice—
the beginning of a just and loving sym
pathy for his people.
Yet the realization that other Jews, in
other lands and other times, had been
excluded and scorned did not make his
exclusion or the scorn leveled against him
one whit less terrible, one whit more just.
He began to relieve, in the frustrations
of his own life, the career of suffering
which had been his people’s immemo
rial lot.
Nor was it for himself or his people
only that the felt a bitter disillusionment.
This evil was two-edged. This hurt that
was done to him by America must prove
as devastating to America as to him. For
like other leaders in the struggle for in
tellectual liberalism he earnestly believed
that: “The friend of the Republic, the
lover of those values which alone make
life endurable, must bid the German and
the Jew, the Latin and the Slav preserve
his cultural tradition ... he must plead
with him to remain spiritually himself
until he melts naturally and gradually
into a richer life, (Please turn to page 18)