A Merry Little Hanukah
By MENACHEM WECKER
HOW TO SPELL CHANUKAH… AND OTHER HOLIDAY DILEMMAS
18 Writers Celebrate 8 Nights
Edited by Emily Franklin
225 pages. Algonquin Books. $18.95.
“You don’t need ‘Deck the Halls’ or ‘Jingle Bell Rock,’”
sang Adam Sandler in his “Chanukah Song” (1994), “‘Cause you can
spin a dreidel with Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock—both Jewish.” Sandler’s song,
dedicated to “all those nice little Jewish kids who don’t get to hear any Chanukah
songs,” was particularly funny, because it was such an inside-baseball
reference about an anything-but-high holiday. But despite Sandler’s efforts,
Hanukah remains that other December
event, evidenced by a recent collection of 18 essays on the Festival of Lights.
Almost every one references Christmas.
“I doubt many Jewish writers are asked to contribute to Christmas anthologies,”
admitted Emily Franklin, editor of How to
Spell Chanukah, in an email. Yet, Christmas is part of many Jews’ winter
traditions, so “the mention or inclusion of the trees and stockings is
inevitable.” Unlike Hanukah, Christmas is often viewed secularly, according to
Franklin, who has authored several teen-girl fiction books. “My grandparents,
who are Jewish, celebrated Christmas in Flatbush with their families growing up
because they were ‘trying to be American,’” she said. “It’s a complicated issue.”
The 18 non-fiction pieces include a wide range of images and characters, from a
kid playing God by manipulating Jewish and Syrian action figures in a
papier-mâché Temple replica to a tale of lost love at a Jewish Day School
choir. Franklin commissioned each essay for the anthology—no reprints here—since
there were so few examples of Hanukah-inspired memoirs. “I didn’t want to create
a unified book of pleasant latke memories but rather explore the variety of
experiences out there that can be put under the menorah umbrella, so to speak,”
she said.
Joanna Smith Rakoff’s “Dolls of the World” begins with her parents’ move to a
San Jose retirement community. Asked if she wanted her parents’ menorah, Rakoff
can’t picture it. “Was it brass? It hadn’t figured prominently in my childhood
mythology.” She passes on the souvenir of a holiday she recalls spending “with
minimal to no merrymaking,” especially since her mother hated messy cooking.
“Standing over a frying pan for the better part of an evening, getting
splattered with an ever-graying batch of batter and hot spurts of corn oil, was
definitely not on her list of favored tasks.”
When, anxious to partake of December doughnuts and dreidels with her friends,
Rakoff asks about Hebrew school, her parents tell her Hebrew schools requires
synagogue membership, and “We’re not sure we believe in God.” At age eight,
Rakoff’s longing catches her mother’s attention, but she misdiagnoses it as
Rakoff’s jealousy of her Christian friends. “‘It’s hard to be Jewish at
Christmas,’” she comforts Rakoff. “‘Everyone is having fun. It’s seductive.’”
Yet Rakoff longs for the communal, familial aspect of Christmas, not the
presents. “But what was an authentic
Chanukah for an American family?” she wonders. “The truth is, there was no such
thing. We grown-ups are now all too coolly aware of Chanukah’s minimal
religious significance, that it was a minor holiday, artificially boosted to
Christmas-level status.”
This perspective of Hanukah as a sham permeates many of the essays. “Chanukah
is really not that big a deal, religiously speaking,” writes Elisa Albert in
“Week at a Glance.” “If it didn’t happen to fall around the same time as the
good old alleged virgin birth, Ross from Friends
probably wouldn’t even know about it!”
According to Joshua Braff’s
“The Blue Team,” both Hanukah and Christmas “were intended to be religious
events but seemed less about God and more about the mall. Both had bearded men
on their respective wrapping paper, both had just dynamite, knee-tapping songs
written for them, and both were celebrations of truly brave Jews.”
It takes the atheist in Steve Almond to
defend Hanukah. Speaking to “those of you who, like me, have fallen away from
God, or never knew Him,” who “learned to regard the Almighty as a lunatic
superstition,” and who “consider the essential miracle to be consciousness,”
Almond issues a commandment in “Chanukah Your Hearts Out!”: “Look not with
derision upon the festival of Chanukah.” He continues, “Neither mock the
holiday with jokes or silly songs, nor dismiss it as a triviality trumped up to
match the retail onslaught of Christmas. Let not these days pass as any others
might, as if you were like any other person. You are not. We are not.”
Almond’s defense of Hanukah then has everything to do with Jews being unique
children of Abraham, who incidentally “nearly smote his own boy out of dumb
loyalty,” and little to do with the Maccabees. Almond stresses that Jews cannot
escape their Jewishness and assimilate, even though it is easier to “disavow
the tangled skein of our history. Chanukah
schmanukah, we might say. More propaganda from the home office.”
Readers who seek true insights, rather than experiences that nod at the holiday,
will have to turn to Tova Mirvis’
“Chanukah Glutton.” Mirvis’ story begins like many of the others, lamenting her
children’s greed and materialism, and worrying how a latke overdose will jive
with her Weight Watchers program. While baking potato latkes, Mirvis ponders
the real miracle of Hanukah: “a little becoming a lot.” This holds for both the
small jug of oil lasting eight days in the Temple candelabrum and the inferior
Jewish guerrilla group fending off the Syrian army. Mirvis decides this
enlargement holds true for the minor holiday itself, which came to “occupy a
prominent space in American Jewish life.”
But to Mirvis, one of Hanukah’s central themes, which “is generally forgotten
once the festivities are under way,” is the rabbinic requirement “to give
thanks.” Mirvis swaps the “obligatory Christmas reference” for “the American
celebration of Thanksgiving,” where “abundance is tempered by gratitude, and by
the realization that it didn’t have to turn out this way.”
Asked what sort of story she would contribute to a Hanukah anthology, Franklin
came up with something that resembles Mirvis’ message of thanks. “My happiest
memories of this season are of being together with family,” she said of her
husband and four children. She would include her recipes for potato, zucchini
and sweet potato latkes. But though presents would kick in seven of the nights,
there would be one when “none of us receive gifts but instead give to
others—the kids choose the charity, and we give the money from this night to
them and discuss the cause.”