Thank you for relinking that article; I somehow missed it in your journal, and I'm very glad to have read it now.
You're welcome. I am glad it is useful to you.
When I clicked back to the magazine's front page just now, I saw an article about Daniel Kahn:
"This militancy is firmly rooted in a Yiddish musical tradition of proletarian, Jewish, anti-fascist, anti-capitalist struggle that has generally been discarded by contemporary Ashkenazi Jewry, which is far more assimilated, centrist, and bourgeois than several generations ago (though not homogeneously so, and the JCC audience included a number of downwardly-mobile artists and cultural workers). All of which begs the question: if this tradition really is our' inheritance, but many us of are in dramatically different positions than the poor, Yiddish-speaking Jews who bequeathed it to us, what then do we do with this music and this politics? How does this tradition inform how we act, here and now?"
People are definitely thinking.
(I am thinking about how to practice doikayt with Jews whose diasporic language was not Yiddish, who may not have angry socialist folk songs but recognize the centrality of the here and now. I do not imagine I am the first to wonder. They probably have suggestions.)
no subject
You're welcome. I am glad it is useful to you.
When I clicked back to the magazine's front page just now, I saw an article about Daniel Kahn:
"This militancy is firmly rooted in a Yiddish musical tradition of proletarian, Jewish, anti-fascist, anti-capitalist struggle that has generally been discarded by contemporary Ashkenazi Jewry, which is far more assimilated, centrist, and bourgeois than several generations ago (though not homogeneously so, and the JCC audience included a number of downwardly-mobile artists and cultural workers). All of which begs the question: if this tradition really is our' inheritance, but many us of are in dramatically different positions than the poor, Yiddish-speaking Jews who bequeathed it to us, what then do we do with this music and this politics? How does this tradition inform how we act, here and now?"
People are definitely thinking.
(I am thinking about how to practice doikayt with Jews whose diasporic language was not Yiddish, who may not have angry socialist folk songs but recognize the centrality of the here and now. I do not imagine I am the first to wonder. They probably have suggestions.)