Authors: Marnie Winston-Macauley
OK, yes. Not every Jewish comic “does” Jewish humor. And true, we share some of the traits labeled “Jewish” with other ethnic groups. Also true, some “jokes” about Jewish mothers are simply outmoded and insulting.
But to deny that Jewish humor exists and has value, to deny there is a sensibility that is specifically Jewish, would be like denying that Italians have a “knack” with opera.
Jewish humor not only exists, it has become universal, through our large contribution to humor. Most people today “get it,” or Jerry Seinfeld, Judy Gold, Susie Essman, Roseanne, Elayne Boosler, Rita Rudner, Carol Leifer, Wendy Liebman, Robert Klein, Jeff Garlin, Jon Stewart, Richard Lewis, Gary Shandling,
and older comics, such as Carl Reiner, Mel Brooks, Jerry Lewis, Jackie Mason, Freddie Roman, Shelley Berman, Norm Crosby, Shecky Greene, Marty Allen, and Don Rickles, would be playing Goldberg’s deli in Brooklyn’s Borough Park instead of the big rooms in clubs and casinos all over the world.
More, their TV work would be a summer replacement on cable 99 in Century Village instead of hits on HBO—even in the cornfields on Iowa. And what they’re “getting” in those fields and in clubs ain’t pastrami on white.
In his book,
Funny People
(1981) the late Steve Allen (who was not Jewish) estimated that about 80 percent of America’s leading humorists over the preceding forty years (from 1940 through 1980) had been Jewish. (Today, the field has widened as other ethnic comics, notably Black, Hispanic, Asian, and gays and lesbians are mainstreaming using their own cultures to get a laugh and make a statement.) However, during a period when Jews comprised only 3.5 percent of the American population, there were more Jews flinging, flying, and always pushing the comic envelope, than even Good Humor trucks—whether on sound stages, in writers’ rooms, nightclubs, or in front of dancing cigarette boxes during the early days of television.
Yes, it can be—because we’re funny. Whether we’re talking about Molly Goldberg’s gentle meddling and malaprops, Joan Rivers’s shtick on having a baby, Mel Brooks and Carl Reiner’s kvetching masterpiece, the
2,000 Year Old Man,
Lenny Bruce’s onstage smoke-screening Yiddish, Allen Sherman turning a banal French sibling
(Frère Jacques)
into “Sarah Jackman,” Woody Allen’s description of his mother’s mah-jongg overdose, or Jerry Seinfeld’s attempt to gift his folks with a Caddy (causing them to miss the early bird special and lose the condo presidency), we’re not just funny—we’re Jewish-funny.
More proof? Ask someone, “Quick! A Finnish joke!” and see how far you can milk a sauna. What…? “Darling, watch … Your uncle Otto once sat too long and his kidneys dried like peas?” Oy!
The Jewish joke, and the Jewish mother joke, are distinctive and most simply wouldn’t work (or be comprehensible) if attributed to another ethnic group.
Ruthie and Esther, both grandmas, were in deep conversation.
Ruthie said, “Listen … you’re the up-to-date one. My son has a mobile phone. So how do they work?”
“Well,” said Esther, “in the left hand you take the phone, and with the right, you push the buttons. A piece of cake.”
But Ruthie wasn’t satisfied.
“Nu?”
she asked, “and how can one talk with such busy hands?”
L
ike a good
tsibeleh
(onion) we Jews are a complex pastiche, layered with strands of oys running through the joys. Many studious pieces have been done analyzing Jewish humor, from Freud to rabbis to contemporary historians. Much like beautiful pieces of music, we analyze and philosophize, but it’s often difficult to formulate the precise elements that make a joke (or comic) “Jewish”—at least without some annoying maven finding the exception. (Of course, that’s
very
Jewish.) We do know that suffering is involved.
Author Tim Boxer reports on the time Alan Alda sat at a dinner with Simon Wiesenthal, the legendary Nazi hunter who died in 2005. Alda reported that Wiesenthal, who loved jokes, was right in the middle of a story, when a man came up to him and said, “Do you remember me?” Wiesenthal looked at him. And yes. He remembered him from the camps. Without saying a word, they just nodded, tears filling their eyes—and the man turned and walked away. “Wiesenthal then turned to me and finished the joke,” said Alda. “This to me is the Jew’s special relationship with humor and suffering.”
“You keep alive your own spirit through humor.”
—Theodore Bikel
“Humor is such a critical part of our
heritage. If we haven’t laughed
we would have gone.”
— Dr. Eileen Warshaw
Yes, Jewish humor is a powerful survival tool to manage pain by offering some relief, some point of view to get through, some liberation from torment and tormenters. And God knows, as Jews have known pain, we have been perfectly set up for being the purveyors of humor. Imagine for a moment Jews without humor. We’d have jumped off that roof with the Fiddler. Unlike some scholars who see Jewish humor as masochistic, I see our ability to use our comedic gifts as a testimony to our background, our will, and our strength.
The Jewish joke is (obviously) about something Jewish—with or without others involved. The topics can be anything: children, husbands and wives, money, survival, health, food, enemies, “types” (the
shadchen,
the
shnorrer,
the
Chelmites)
in the community— almost everything is fodder, which is a key aspect to the Jewish joke. It’s democratic and yes, antiauthoritarian. Anyone, and anything, is treated with the same ironic wit and sarcasm.
Jewish mother: “Hello, operator! Give me the manager from the fancy-dancy room service.”
Manager: “Room service.”
Jewish mother: “This is room 402, Mister Room Service. I vant to order breakfest.”
Manager: “Certainly, madam. What would you like?”
Jewish mother: “For me, I vant a glass orange juice, but bitter with pits. The toast, should be burned, till black! For mine children, the milk should curdled and—”
Manager: “Madam, I can’t fill an order like that!”
Jewish mother: “Aha! You did yesterday!”
T
he first recorded scriptural laugh is in Genesis when the aged Sarah laughs at the prospect of her pregnancy. When the Lord asks, “Is anything too hard for the Lord?”—she lies, saying she didn’t laugh, to which God replies, “You did laugh.” While not a knee-slapper, the subversive aspect of Jewish mother humor was born.
Four rabbis engaged in theological arguments, and it was always three against one. Finally, the odd rabbi out appealed.
“God!” he cried. “I know I am right! Please, a sign to prove it to them!”
Suddenly, from a sunny day, it poured.
“A sign from God! See, I’m right!”
The other three disagreed, saying storms often cool hot days.
So again: “Please, God, a bigger sign!”
Lightning slammed a tree.
“Is that not a sign from God?” cried the rabbi.
“A sign of nature!” they insisted, again making it three to one.
Just as the rabbi is about to beg an even bigger sign, the sky blackened and a booming voice intoned: “HEEEEEEEE’S RIIIIIIIGHT!”
The rabbi, hands on hips, said, “Well… ?”
The others shrugged, “So now it’s three to two.”
As we see, even God is not off-limits. Unlike many other religions, God is humanized, intimate, and social. God can be spoken to, included. Yet these jokes coexist with our deep love of God and our rituals. Hey, we’re just kvetching.
Jewish jokes are almost always verbal. (OK, yes, there’s Marcel Marceau, but he’s one the few exceptions proving the rule.) They often involve a canny, even convoluted or loony use of logic, irony, and surprise or the quick turnaround.
Sophie demanded of Hannah a pot, which she claimed was never returned to her to make Sabbath dinner for her family.
“In the first place, I never took a pot from you!”
“In the second place, it was an old pot!”
“And in the third place, I gave it back to you in better condition than when I took it from you!”
Mr. and Mrs. Kornmell decided to go to the newest, fanciest Jewish fusion restaurant in New York to celebrate their twenty-fifth anniversary. They were served course after course of kasha with bananas, pupu poi and ying-yang tortillas. The owner himself brought over the anniversary cake of gefilte mousse.
“So
nu,”
said the owner. “Did you enjoy your dinner?”
“Well,” said Mrs. Kornmell, “to be perfectly frank with you, the food you serve here—
khaloshes!
Terrible! … And such small portions!”
They also make a point with punch.
David came home from work to total mayhem. His children were in the yard, playing in dirt. There was a sink full of dishes and there were toys a foot high in the children’s room. Worried, he looked for his wife, Marcia … and found her curled up in bed with a book.
“Darling, how was your day?” she asked, smiling.
Bewildered, Irving asked, “Marcia! What happened here today!?”
“You know how every day you come home from work and ask me ‘what in the world did you do today?’”
“Yeah,” he replied.
“Well,” she said, “today I didn’t do it.”
Our skepticism and kvetching about life and ourselves through jokes can be deprecating, self-deprecating, critical, or self-critical. And, they are often wise and philosophical, with a definite knack for putting down pretension.
Lisa, unlike her immigrant mama, had the benefit of higher education, and was a regular “intellectual” at home, always spouting philosophy.
“Mama, I accept the universe as it is,” stated the “intellectual” pompously.
Mama thought for a while.
“Nu,
darling,” she countered, “and if you didn’t?”
The jokes we tell offer insight into how we see ourselves in society and in the world. It’s been suggested that as outsiders, better to give ourselves a
zetz
(punch) first. By jumping in, not only do we defuse pain, but come out with the edge. As outsiders, criticism of those in power, especially the pompously powerful, are ripe for put-down. (Some mavens have suggested that Yiddish itself and its “stepchild” Yinglish, with its wit and creativity, may be viewed as a satire when played against the rigid formality of German.) Jews are in the unique position of having been persecuted,
while feeling quite superior intellectually,
which leads to humor over what we consider to be absurdities, unfairness, and pomposity of life in general, and within ourselves.
A rabbi in the hospital received a large vase of flowers with the following note: “The congregation wishes you a full and speedy recovery—by a vote of 212 to 74.”
Often irreverent, we are defiant and laugh in the face of authority. We may have lost many a battle, but by using our wits to uncover prejudice, for example, we come out the winners.
An anti-semite declares without shame, “All our troubles come from the Jews!”
The Jew responds: “Absolutely! From the Jews— and the camels!”
“Camels? Why the camels?” asks the anti-semite.
“Why the Jews?” asks the Jew.
J
ewish mothers have always been fodder for Jewish jokes. But, some feel that today, in the absence of a strong religious base, and with assimilation and media, we’ve
become
a Jewish joke. And no matter how much truth there is in the ethno-type, many are still offended.
A
bus with thirty Hadassah ladies turned over and were dispatched to heaven. Unfortunately the computers were down, so God had to ask Satan to provide temporary housing. Soon after, He received an urgent telephone call from Satan telling Him to take the women off his hands.
“What’s the problem?” asked God.
Satan replied, “Those Hadassah ladies are ruining my whole set-up. Only two hours and already they raised $100,000 for an air-conditioning system!”
Rabbi Shira Stern is one who considers the Jewish joke offensive, as does Dr. Myrna Hant. “They’re every part of the stereotype, revealing strong Jewish frustration and anger.”
“Perceptions creates reality,” says Rabbi Yocheved Mintz. “If humor or exaggeration becomes the perception, it can be a detriment.”
The majority of those I interviewed had varying points of view—but there are factors that make the Jewish mother joke more acceptable. Certainly taste was one. The quick stereotypical two or three-liners, for example, aren’t particularly funny—or tasteful. Few would laugh at:
Q:
What’s the difference between a rottweiler and a Jewish mother?
A:
Eventually, the rottweiler lets go.
Most of us would find the above harsh, simplistic, and offensive.
“If it’s in good taste, I don’t mind.
They make jokes about everybody.”
—Melanie Strug
“I only find Jewish mother humor offensive if it’s bad from a comedy perspective—you know, when it’s something that’s been done to death,” says Amy Borkowsky. “I don’t think I could take one more joke about Jewish moms giving us guilt, making chicken soup, or reminding us to put on a sweater. My mother was a little more original.”
But the issue of stereotyping or, as I call it, ethno-typing was not held to be necessarily objectionable—as many claimed all humor involves some stereotyping. But more, for those comedians, like Amy Borkowsky and Judy Gold, who freely joke about their mothers, their humor, they say, involves truth—the truth that comes from personal experience.
“It would be hard to accuse me of stereotyping, because I present my mother as she actually was. My CDs, my act, and my book all have my mother’s real messages,” says Amy Borkowsky. “I think the best humor comes out of struggle, because there’s nothing funny about everything going right. If you went to a comedy club and the comic opened with, ‘So I just got a gorgeous new girlfriend, lost thirty pounds, and won the Publisher’s Clearinghouse Sweepstakes,’ they would get resentment, not laughs. Jews have been comedically blessed, because we’ve had plenty of struggles throughout our history. Prejudice and persecution have made Jewish mothers worry obsessively about their kids which then makes the Jewish mother herself one more issue to deal with. And it’s a stroke of good fortune if her kid happens to be a comic.”