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Selected Stories of Sholom Aleichem
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432 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1956
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47 people want to read
About the author
Sholom Aleichem
289 books188 followersRussian-born American humorist Sholem Aleichem or Sholom Aleichem, originally Solomon Rabinowitz, in Yiddish originally wrote stories and plays, the basis for the musical
Fiddler on the Roof
.
He wrote under the pen name, Hebrew for "peace be upon you."
From 1883, he produced more than forty volumes as a central figure in literature before 1890.
His notable narratives accurately described shtetl life with the naturalness of speech of his characters. Early critics focused on the cheerfulness of the characters, interpreted as a way of coping with adversity. Later critics saw a tragic side. Because of the similar style of the author with the pen name of Mark Twain, people often referred to Aleichem as the Jewish version of Twain. Both authors wrote for adults and children and lectured extensively in Europe and the United States.
He wrote under the pen name, Hebrew for "peace be upon you."
From 1883, he produced more than forty volumes as a central figure in literature before 1890.
His notable narratives accurately described shtetl life with the naturalness of speech of his characters. Early critics focused on the cheerfulness of the characters, interpreted as a way of coping with adversity. Later critics saw a tragic side. Because of the similar style of the author with the pen name of Mark Twain, people often referred to Aleichem as the Jewish version of Twain. Both authors wrote for adults and children and lectured extensively in Europe and the United States.
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Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews
February 6, 2018
A vanished world lives on in print
Thanks to two monsters called Hitler and Stalin and a host of assisting goblins, demons, devils, and ghouls that appeared in all too human form, an entire world disappeared from the face of the earth. For some people, the extinction of East European Jewry is just one of the tragedies of history, but for me, it is personal. Maybe I'd rather be American anyway, maybe that world would have been too narrow for me in my late 20th century wanderlust, but I never got to decide for myself. Hitler killed off the millions, and Stalin destroyed the culture of those who survived. Like the artifacts of Native Americans preserved in countless museums, we have Jewish life in the shtetls of Ukraine, Belarus, Poland, and Lithuania in this strictly limited, printed version that sits on bookshelves. There is no more literature on the way. They destroyed it forever. Will there be more Sholom Aleichems ? Will there be other Isaac Bashevis Singers ? Might as well ask if there will be new Sitting Bulls or Sequoyahs. The Jews survive, as do the Indians, but we are no longer what we were. We are branded "survivors".
So let's rejoice in what we have. We have these beautiful stories that revel in Jewish life, even in its poverty and dirt. Here are all the smart-alecks, the wise rabbis, the harrassed mothers, the holidays, the roast duck, the crusts of bread, the shamas, the fishmonger, and of course, Tevye the Milkman, known thanks to "Fiddler on the Roof" to millions of people in the West. Sholom Aleichem writes with humor, with style, and with that inner sadness that is inherent in all minority peoples living in difficult times. Every story is filled with customs, expressions, ways of looking at the world that barely exist now. Sholom Aleichem stories are my personal museum. How could I not love them ? How could I not rummage continually in this attic of my soul ? This volume of 29 stories is only a beginning. You can read "Mottel, the Cantor's Son", or "Some Laughter, Some Tears"---there are many books and editions. While the stories are often told from a child's point of view and thus lack a certain psychological depth, and perhaps the author "begs the question' too often, by saying at the end, that he doesn't know what happened, Sholom Aleichem's stories cannot fail to charm. The humor of our darker, more paranoid times of genocide, pollution, and terrorism may differ from what is found here, but it's a serious person indeed who will not at least crack a smile. These are some of the great treasures of Yiddish literature. Read them. There are no more coming.
Thanks to two monsters called Hitler and Stalin and a host of assisting goblins, demons, devils, and ghouls that appeared in all too human form, an entire world disappeared from the face of the earth. For some people, the extinction of East European Jewry is just one of the tragedies of history, but for me, it is personal. Maybe I'd rather be American anyway, maybe that world would have been too narrow for me in my late 20th century wanderlust, but I never got to decide for myself. Hitler killed off the millions, and Stalin destroyed the culture of those who survived. Like the artifacts of Native Americans preserved in countless museums, we have Jewish life in the shtetls of Ukraine, Belarus, Poland, and Lithuania in this strictly limited, printed version that sits on bookshelves. There is no more literature on the way. They destroyed it forever. Will there be more Sholom Aleichems ? Will there be other Isaac Bashevis Singers ? Might as well ask if there will be new Sitting Bulls or Sequoyahs. The Jews survive, as do the Indians, but we are no longer what we were. We are branded "survivors".
So let's rejoice in what we have. We have these beautiful stories that revel in Jewish life, even in its poverty and dirt. Here are all the smart-alecks, the wise rabbis, the harrassed mothers, the holidays, the roast duck, the crusts of bread, the shamas, the fishmonger, and of course, Tevye the Milkman, known thanks to "Fiddler on the Roof" to millions of people in the West. Sholom Aleichem writes with humor, with style, and with that inner sadness that is inherent in all minority peoples living in difficult times. Every story is filled with customs, expressions, ways of looking at the world that barely exist now. Sholom Aleichem stories are my personal museum. How could I not love them ? How could I not rummage continually in this attic of my soul ? This volume of 29 stories is only a beginning. You can read "Mottel, the Cantor's Son", or "Some Laughter, Some Tears"---there are many books and editions. While the stories are often told from a child's point of view and thus lack a certain psychological depth, and perhaps the author "begs the question' too often, by saying at the end, that he doesn't know what happened, Sholom Aleichem's stories cannot fail to charm. The humor of our darker, more paranoid times of genocide, pollution, and terrorism may differ from what is found here, but it's a serious person indeed who will not at least crack a smile. These are some of the great treasures of Yiddish literature. Read them. There are no more coming.
September 11, 2011
While in the process of sorting through my books I found this little book. Granted, I'd read some of the stories in the past but this time I decided to start with the intro by Alfred Kazin and read each and every story.
I'm so glad I did. Mr. Kazin's introduction was very enlightening. He likens the author (real name Solomon Rabinowitz, born Kiev 1859, died Bronx, NY 1916) to Mark Twain since like Twain, his stories reflect the customs and mindset of a particular people at a particular time. In this instance it's the Jewish peasantry in the shtetls of Czarist Russia. These stories formed the basis for the musical "Fiddler on the Roof."
You have to read these original stories to fully appreciate the peasantry's humor and religious faith amidst sometimes crushing poverty and the ever present threat of persecution. This is a classic and one book I'm going to keep.
I'm so glad I did. Mr. Kazin's introduction was very enlightening. He likens the author (real name Solomon Rabinowitz, born Kiev 1859, died Bronx, NY 1916) to Mark Twain since like Twain, his stories reflect the customs and mindset of a particular people at a particular time. In this instance it's the Jewish peasantry in the shtetls of Czarist Russia. These stories formed the basis for the musical "Fiddler on the Roof."
You have to read these original stories to fully appreciate the peasantry's humor and religious faith amidst sometimes crushing poverty and the ever present threat of persecution. This is a classic and one book I'm going to keep.
July 28, 2011
Sholom Aleichem is considered to be the greatest narrator of Jewish life in the small towns or"shtetls" of Eastern Europe. His ability to humorously treat the lives of the very poor as well as the very rich testifies to his versatility. His themes are so universal that the musical,"Fiddler on
the Roof" was based on several of his short stories. In other words, you don't have to be Jewish to
enjoy reading Sholom Aleichem.
the Roof" was based on several of his short stories. In other words, you don't have to be Jewish to
enjoy reading Sholom Aleichem.
July 16, 2022
Would‘ve probably been 5 stars if every story followed Tevye
May 6, 2024
An authentic and humourous look at 19th century Jewry in Russia. Some stories are pure gems, but many are just okay, and oftentimes it feels like the book repeats variations of the same story.
April 6, 2017
As charming as they are, it is very hard to read the pieces in The Selected Stories of Sholom Aleichem as anything but elegies. The stories, which can be likeable or sly, amusing, or as instructive as fairytales, cannot help but leave one feeling more than a little dishonest. We the readers are forced to hold something back.
Perhaps it is because our relationship to them has been altered by “The Fiddler on the Roof” musical and the film adapted from it. On stage and screen they are stories of a triumphant people. Yes, odd, provincial, eccentric, poor, but also alive and almost too familiar. Jews in the audience of “Fiddler,” the least observant along with the most secular, watch with a sense of pride in their Jewishness. In terms of Identity Politics, Aleichem’s stories, reconfigured for these media, offer Jews a range of readings from a creation myth to a simple back-story.
“Fiddler” invites Jews, particularly those of Eastern European descent, especially those who can remember Grandparents or older relations speaking Yiddish, to indulge in a bittersweet dish of false nostalgia. Aleichem’s characters, meant to celebrate the human comedy, have today, in the person of TV Jews, been commodified into a wardrobe of stock characters. The men and women who populated Aleichem’s world were reanimated by the cast members of “Seinfeld” and “Curb Your Enthusiasm.”
The reality of shtetl life, largely poor and isolated, always menaced, although not without glimmers of wealth or even knowledge of the Rothschilds and even Jews in America, is never seriously addressed in these stories. These are tales, as Hollywood would tell us, based on true stories.
What Aleichem felt for his charactered was expressed beautifully by Nikki Giovanni when she wrote: “Black love is Black wealth.” Aleichem wrote about Jewish love. Love of a God who could not help but torture his chosen people. Love for neighbors who could not help but take pleasure in another’s misfortune. And, as Alfred Kazin pointed out, love of being Jewish.
It is a terrible shame that the stories cannot be read as Sholom Aleichem—the playful, punning pen name of Sholom Rabinowitz—intended. Aleichem must have known the characters who inhabited his stories were, in a sense, already ghosts, and the places they inhabited would soon be abandoned, and that he himself was reconstructing them out of a sentimental longing. I suspect Aleichem thought the modern world would absorb those his imagination brought to life. They would live to be modern Jews. What Aleichem could not have anticipated is Shoah.
I don’t know if these stories are read today. Or, if read, how they can be read for the simple pleasures they afford. How can we laugh with Tevye and his mishpocha, cry at the absurdity of their situation, at their superstitions, or feel their daily struggle for their daily bread, when we are all too aware that, almost to the one, the people who inspired Aleichem, as well as their children and their children’s children were destined to rot in mass graves outside their villages, or, as Tevye might have quipped, “won” a one-way ticket to Auschwitz.
Perhaps it is because our relationship to them has been altered by “The Fiddler on the Roof” musical and the film adapted from it. On stage and screen they are stories of a triumphant people. Yes, odd, provincial, eccentric, poor, but also alive and almost too familiar. Jews in the audience of “Fiddler,” the least observant along with the most secular, watch with a sense of pride in their Jewishness. In terms of Identity Politics, Aleichem’s stories, reconfigured for these media, offer Jews a range of readings from a creation myth to a simple back-story.
“Fiddler” invites Jews, particularly those of Eastern European descent, especially those who can remember Grandparents or older relations speaking Yiddish, to indulge in a bittersweet dish of false nostalgia. Aleichem’s characters, meant to celebrate the human comedy, have today, in the person of TV Jews, been commodified into a wardrobe of stock characters. The men and women who populated Aleichem’s world were reanimated by the cast members of “Seinfeld” and “Curb Your Enthusiasm.”
The reality of shtetl life, largely poor and isolated, always menaced, although not without glimmers of wealth or even knowledge of the Rothschilds and even Jews in America, is never seriously addressed in these stories. These are tales, as Hollywood would tell us, based on true stories.
What Aleichem felt for his charactered was expressed beautifully by Nikki Giovanni when she wrote: “Black love is Black wealth.” Aleichem wrote about Jewish love. Love of a God who could not help but torture his chosen people. Love for neighbors who could not help but take pleasure in another’s misfortune. And, as Alfred Kazin pointed out, love of being Jewish.
It is a terrible shame that the stories cannot be read as Sholom Aleichem—the playful, punning pen name of Sholom Rabinowitz—intended. Aleichem must have known the characters who inhabited his stories were, in a sense, already ghosts, and the places they inhabited would soon be abandoned, and that he himself was reconstructing them out of a sentimental longing. I suspect Aleichem thought the modern world would absorb those his imagination brought to life. They would live to be modern Jews. What Aleichem could not have anticipated is Shoah.
I don’t know if these stories are read today. Or, if read, how they can be read for the simple pleasures they afford. How can we laugh with Tevye and his mishpocha, cry at the absurdity of their situation, at their superstitions, or feel their daily struggle for their daily bread, when we are all too aware that, almost to the one, the people who inspired Aleichem, as well as their children and their children’s children were destined to rot in mass graves outside their villages, or, as Tevye might have quipped, “won” a one-way ticket to Auschwitz.
December 5, 2011
What a wonderful collection of stories - warm-hearted, generous, delightful. Aleichem writes lovingly about Jews in Eastern Europe in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, most of them in small towns, most of them devout, poor but relentlessly optimistic. Even when life treats them cruelly, they resiliently bounce back and make do as best they can. The majority of the stories are light-hearted and humorous, but Aleichem had the versatility to also write serious and philosophical tales, and when he did, the results were devastating. Highly recommended.
Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews