The Overlooked Jewish Identity of Roy Cohn in Kushner's Angels in America: American Schmucko

But what I cannot forgive, Mr. Editor, is the thankless child who becomes ashamed of his mother and father, and forsakes their ways, and blasphemes and violates the Sabbath to be a modern American.

-E.L. Doctorow, The Book of Daniel

Why would a nice Jewish boy from the Bronx, the son of a renowned liberal Democratic judge, choose to make his name by prosecuting the Rosenbergs and working for Joe McCarthy?

-Roy Cohn

Hannah Arendt, describing the marginalization of Jews as "outside society" first articulated this liminal space which exposes them to "suspicion, hostility, and discrimination" (70; Ginsberg 7). The land of liberty, indeed, proved no different in its treatment of Jews. By the mid twentieth century, American Jews achieved, at best, a tenuous stance in both political and cultural American life. Successive waves of anti-Semitism, particularly in the 1930s and 1950s, periodically resurged as if to "test" Jewish loyalty to the American way of life.¹ These waves primarily served to attack liberal regimes: "anti-Semitism was used, in part, to delegitimate liberal democracy by exposing it as a creature of, or cover of, the Jews" (Ginsberg 6). Of the 1930s wave, political members of the right crudely renamed the New Deal the "Jew Deal," in an anti-Semitic attempt to discredit Roosevelt's policies. Writing of the years before Pearl Harbor and American participation in World War II, Morton Horwitz notes anti-Semitism's increase in "volume and virulence" as well; between Charles Lindberg and the radio priest Father Coughlin, American cultural life broadcasted anti-Semitism across its very airwaves (259).

Yet, for a short period during World War II, American anti-Semitism decreased dramatically. Remarking on this trend, Horwitz wryly observes: "Hitler did make anti-Semitism unfashionable for a time in America" (259). As he explains, unless American Jews read about Nazi atrocities in Yiddish papers, American involvement in World War II provided a brief, albeit illusory, respite from anti-Semitism. In fact, most American Jews did not discover the full extent of Nazi atrocities until Life magazine published photos of the concentration camps and Jewish victims in the April 1945 issue, revealing the hideous capacity of anti-Semitic fervor.²

Rather than serving as a balm for the wounds of war, the postwar period applied a particularly acidic poultice to American Jews, as many already grappled with an overwhelming sense of survivor guilt.³ Exacerbating Jewish anxieties, anti-Semitism experienced newfound popularity in the 1950s. The emergence of anti-Communist sentiment reawakened the sleeping giant of anti-Semitism, aggravating Jewish-American postwar trauma. In a fictional account of this historical period in The Book of Daniel, E.L. Doctorow articulates the perilous position of the Jew within McCarthy America: "Had not McCarthy made a speech describing the great battle between international atheistic communism and Christianity? There was no question in anyone's mind where the Jews belonged according to Joe Mc Carthy" (120). No question, indeed, that non-Christians and atheists were viewed with considerable suspicion in American society. Writing about McCarthyism and the Rosenberg case, Horwitz smartly concludes: "[it] touched every raw nerve; every terror of renewed genocidal anti-Semitism, every nightmare that Nazism had embodied" (259). By combining survivor guilt with the systematic intimidation of anticommunist sentiment, the postwar period proved to be a time of great unease for Jewish Americans.

In light of the precarious position of Jews in 1950s America, it seems unlikely, even ironic, that a young, gay, Jewish male would rise to such power in the anti Communist driven McCarthy machine. Yet, Roy Cohn amassed great amounts of power as Joe McCarthy's chief aide. It is this paradox that Tony Kushner's Pulitzer prize-winning play, Angels in America, consciously explores alongside the myriad pressures facing Jewish Americans in this post-war period more generally. I want to suggest that Kushner's text—by deliberately riffing on Jewish tropes—offers an alternative method of navigating this era that does not necessarily demand distancing oneself from one's Jewish identity. As if recalling Arendt's language about the European Jew, 1950s America presents Roy Cohn with two possible identities: the pariah or the parvenu. Choosing neither "option," Cohn occupies and exploits to his benefit the liminal space of the trickster, and as such, he achieves voice, visibility, and power.

The Dual-Loyalty Dilemma: Pressures Upon a 1950s American Jew

The unease of the post-war period may be owed, in part, to the dual loyalty competing for American Jewish attentions: the requirements of the Jewish community and the demand for a peculiarly American exhibition of patriotism.⁴ A large number of American Communists were Jews, and this correlation remains a neglected aspect of the relationship between Jews and McCarthyism (Horwitz 260). Ellen Schrecker argues that the appeal of the Communist Party centered on its principles of equality. However, as she notes, this particular appeal is frequently overlooked:

Discrimination also played into the party's hands. The disproportionate numbers of Jews in the party obviously required explanation. And it was widely assumed that the Communist party had a special appeal to second-generation Americans who rebelled against the old-country ways of their immigrant parents, yet felt "rejected by the dominant American culture."

(150)

The rebellion against the "old-country ways," rather than the party's stance against Hitler in the thirties, evolved as the reason for its attractiveness to Jews. In response to disproportionately large numbers of Jewish American Communists, 1950s America presented Jewish Americans with two "options": to assimilate completely and self-police communities or risk further marginalization and even physical violence. As communism became a major test of loyalty as well as a divider of Jewish communities, it became politically necessary "to isolate, denounce, and marginalize" Jewish communities to prove one's own patriotism (Horwitz 262).

In his autobiography, Cohn himself articulates our questions about his anti Communist leadership, baiting readers in his introduction: "Why would a nice Jewish boy from the Bronx, the son of a renowned liberal Democratic judge, choose to make his name by prosecuting the Rosenbergs and working for Joe McCarthy?" (Zion 5). Snide tone aside, it seems like a reasonable query. Many propose Cohn's Jewish identity deflected claims of anti-Semitism against anti-Communism and, as such, was duly exploited by McCarthy. As a jury foreman vulgarly commented on the Rosenberg trial, "I felt good that this was strictly a Jewish show. It was Jew against Jew. It wasn't the Christians hanging the Jews" (Von Hoffman 109).⁵ Yet by itself, this claim seems inadequate, as it grossly simplifies the complexity of the political climate for American Jews. Most importantly, this explanation thoroughly undermines Cohn's agency, casting him as a mere puppet rather than an apt puppeteer.

Once again, Cohn's own words offer some direction: "I've tried in every way I can to make it clear that the fact that my name is Cohn and the fact of my religion has nothing to do except perfect compatibility [sic] with my love for America and my dislike for Communism" (Von Hoffman 108). Despite this performance of rugged patriotism, Cohn's words implicitly betray the burdensome political pressures upon Jews. Indeed, no such hint of "compatibility" existed. Like other American Jews, Cohn appeared to struggle with the loyalty due to the Jewish community and to the fascist patriotism of 1950s America. Colleagues corroborate his insecurity. Howard Squad, who attended law school with Cohn, furthered this connection in his interview with Nicholas Von Hoffman, Cohn's biographer:

I think probably Al Cohn [Roy's father] and Roy and a large part of their group really felt that they had to be super patriotic because if they were super patriotic, there was always this feeling that you wouldn't get into the battle, the attitude of that group was always to kind of lean over backwards and not support the extremists or the radicals or even apologize---they were even apologizing for the state of Israel in those days. . . They were going to be super pure, they weren't going to get into the battle on either side. They were just going to be very careful not to defend the Jewish position as it was perceived.

(139)

To be "super patriotic" or, perhaps more importantly, to be perceived as such, Cohn approached this patriotism as a political necessity; like other anti-Communist Jews, he sought to "isolate, denounce, and marginalize Jewish Communists. However, Roy Cohn went much further; his hyperbolic performance of patriotism was, evidently, at odds with the Jewish community. An excerpted letter from Jewish Life is an apt example of the rage directed at him:

[Cohn is] a representative of the American Judenrat, which like the German Judenrat and the Warsaw Ghetto Judenrat, hopes to buy security for itself . . . . You will be remembered like the German and Warsaw Ghetto Judenrat members,if at all, along with the traitors, renegades, opportunists, sycophants. . . who are disgrace in the history of every people.

(Kahn 8; Novick 93-94).

Such "performances" of the historical Cohn may be better understood through our investigation of Kushner's literary trickster.

Assimilation-Ashmimiation

Let us turn, then, to Angels in America in which Kushner addresses the pressures facing post-war Jewish Americans, particularly those of assimilation, for it is precisely these pressures that shape our understanding of Cohn. Yet interestingly enough, Angels precludes the possibility of assimilation for Jewish Americans more generally. Because Kushner anchors his play in this very impossibility, the text discourages assimilationist interpretations of Cohn's behavior. Therefore in examining Cohn's behavior, it is important to stress that he does not suppress his Jewish identity in favor of assimilation. Unfortunately, critics have taken a reductive stance on this issue, and Framji Minwall is no different, as she overlooks this distinction:

Roy epitomizes bigoted, closeted, white America, the America that holds the voices of difference at (or preferably outside) its borders, that invests power in the inheritors of a predominantly Christian culture. He has delivered himself wholeheartedly to this cause, erasing his cultural heritage in favor of assimilation because he knows that assimilation brings authority.

(107)

Minwall's claim that Cohn "erases his cultural heritage" emerges as a reductive reading of Angels, for Kushner's construction of Cohn is, quite literally, seeped in bits of Judaica. Kushner's literary imagination does not closet "Jewishness," and this, coupled with the thematic impossibility of assimilation, informs our understanding of Cohn.

This impossibility book-ends the play. Eulogizing for Sarah Ironson's funeral, Rabbi Isidor Chemelwitz acknowledges her remaining family in the beginning of the text: "[Sarah Ironson] loving and caring mother of her sons Morris, Abraham; beloved grandmother of Max, Mark, Louis, Lisa, Maria…uh Lesley, Angela, Doris, Luke and Eric. Eric? This is a Jewish name?" (15-16). On first glance, it might seem that the Ironson family has thoroughly assimilated into American Christian culture. Though beginning with traditional Hebrew names of "Sarah" and "Benjamin" (her husband), the naming of the Ironson family degenerates not only into secular names, but into overtly Christian names, with the inclusion of the two Synoptic Gospel writers. Yet in the continuation of the Rabbi's eulogy, he undercuts the possibility of assimilation in America, "in this strange place, in this melting pot where nothing melted."⁶ Existing as both a figure of morality and cultural connection, Rabbi Chemelwitz interrogates the very concept of assimilation:

Descendants of this immigrant woman, you do not grow up in America, you and your children and their children with the goyische names. You do not live in America. No such place exists. Your clay is the clay of some Litvak shtetl, your air the air of the steppes—because she carried the old world on her back across the ocean, in a boat…. and she worked that earth into your bones, and you pass it to your children, this ancient, ancient, culture and home.

(16)

Despite the Ironsons' futile attempts at assimilation with their "goyische names," they cannot grasp the stereotypical "American" experience, for this "America" does not exist. Rabbi Chemelwitz categorizes their outward assimilation as merely superficial; the Ironsons, symbolizing all Jewish Americans, can never truly assimilate, just as the Rabbi can never fully expunge the Yiddish syntax from his English speech. Indeed, assimilation not only appears as an exorcism of the "ancient, ancient, culture and home" from their very bones, but more immediately, a disavowal of their recently deceased grandmother and the "old world" she strapped to her back.

To conclude Angels, Sarah's appearance reiterates the Rabbi's admonishment against assimilation with her message to Louis, her grandson. Speaking only Yiddish to her grandson's boyfriend, Sarah models her unwavering pride in her heritage, encouraging him to do the same: "Azoi toot a Yid" (269). Rabbi Chemelwitz, serving as a translator, explains to Prior: "It's the Yiddish way" (269). Indeed, the implicit message, "do it the Yiddish way" emerges as Sarah's advice not only for her grandson but for all American Jews. The appearances of Sarah and Rabbi Chemelwitz serve as Jewish cultural touchstones, reminding their Americanized children of their Jewish connection. Within this explicit and even predictable framework, the text prevents the reader from interpreting any Jewish behavior, especially that of Cohn, as viable examples of assimilation.

The Label Maker

So what's a nice Jewish boy to do if he can't quite assimilate into "American" life? What if Arendt's binary construction of "pariah or parvenu" proves too limiting? Kushner offers a third possibility that disrupts this binarism, allowing Cohn to dictate the terms of his own brand of tricksterism. Defining the trickster, Elizabeth Ammons explains that the "[it] distrupts" and "[its] identity is turbulent, shape-changing, contradictory, 'bad,' culturally central, liminal, powerful, power-interrogating" (ix-x). Moreover, "the essence of tricksterism is change, contradiction, adaptation, surprise" (Ammons xii). As a trickster, Cohn not only redefines labels, but plays with a multiplicity of Jewish stereotypes and tropes in Kushner's "Jewish Fantasia." Utilizing the item that estranges him from "American" culture—his Jewish identity—Cohn consolidates and preserves his power. Yet, what separates Cohn from a schemer, for instance "Tricky Dick," is that the trickster, even a malignant one, operates from a marginalized position in society. And by operating from the sidelines, he nevertheless accumulates his power while deftly navigating competing loyalties alongside the impossibility of assimilation.

By first interrogating categories that threaten to contain him, Cohn successfully creates a space in which he can freely transform, evade, and even redefine identities. Kushner plainly illustrates Cohn's proficiency in the subversion of labels—an absolute necessity for a trickster—as Cohn dictates the terms of his classification. Speaking to his doctor about his AIDS diagnosis and homosexuality, Cohn flouts conventional classifications:

Your problem, Henry, is that you are hung up on words, on labels, that you believe they mean what they seem to mean. . . Like all lavels they tell you one thing and one thing only: where does an individual so identified fit in the food chain, in the pecking order? Not ideology, or sexual taste, but something much simpler: clout. Not who I fuck or who fucks me, but who will pick up the phone when I call, who owes me favors. This is what a label refers to.

(51)

Labels, as explicated by Cohn, merely describe one's power, their place in the proverbial "pecking order." As he reconfigures labels, he exercises his agency, maintaining complete control over his public persona. Labels neither dominate nor determine his image. Similarly, Cohn challenges the very definition of homosexuality: "Homosexuals are not men who sleep with other men. Homosexuals are men who in fifteen years of trying cannot get a puissant antidiscrimination bill through City Council. Homosexuals are men who know nobody and who nobody knows. Who have zero clout" (51). Cohn emphasizes the effete and impotent stereotypes of the homosexual, qualities that cannot be ascribed to him, so that he may simultaneously sidestep this construction. Indeed, Cohn hardly resembles the impotent homosexual for, as he modestly informs his doctor, he make direct calls to the president and, better yet, to the "president's wife." For the ever-shifting trickster, even the most abject label becomes reduced to level of a juvenile taunt in light of the trickster's ample "clout."

Yet, a successful trickster must do more than merely possess "clout." Cohn must anticipate and adapt his identities to ever-shifting rhetorical strategies. And in post-war America, the rhetoric surrounding homosexuals and Jewish males appears nearly interchangeable. Historian John D'Emilio explains the not-so-hidden homophobia behind anticommunism:

Lacking toughness, the effete, overly educated male representatives of the Eastern establishment had lost China and Eastern Europe to the enemy. Weak willed, pleasure-seeking homosexuals—'half men' feminized everything they touched and sapped the masculine vigor that had tamed a continent.

(49; May 95).

In this context, both Jews and homosexuals "sap the masculine vigor" with their emasculating influence, their shared "deviancy" corrupting the state as well. Explicating this "link between Jew and the sexual other," Jonathan Freedman writes that "these powerful but unstable models of deviance were built on that shifting figure of all-purpose alterity the Jew" (91). Indeed, the stereotypes of the Jewish male body evolved into a prototype for other sexual deviancies. In his discussion of anti Semitic body politics, Sander Gilman offers additional information on the "shifting figure" of the Jewish male, the Ur-figure of deviance. Investigating the stereotyped Jewish foot as hopelessly flat and forever responsible for the bandy-legged gait, Gilman writes that "the foot became the hallmark of difference, of the Jewish body being separate from the real 'body politic'" (44). Essentially, the physical differences symbolized the inner deviance of the Jew. Due to the purported inability of Jewish males to adequately defend the state on account of this "hallmark of difference," they were subsequently barred from attaining citizenship (40). Yet, Jewish males were not only depicted as physically inferior in both strength and stature to their Gentile counterparts, they were also significantly feminized. For instance, cases of hysteria were purportedly found in abundance in populations of Eastern European Jewish males, and rumors of the menstruating Jewish male persisted for centuries (56). Indeed, between the accusations of deviance and effeminacy, the slippage between Jew and homosexual, Cohn has his work cut out for him. To be a truly successful trickster, he too must continuously evolve to evade definitive categorization.

The Tough Jew

Cohn tailors his persona to counteract these claims of the feminized Jewish male. Rummaging in his bag of tricks, Cohn flirts with his first identity, a Jewish drag performance before Belize, the former drag queen. To confront and to contradict emasculating stereotypes, Cohn conjures, what Paul Breines coined, the "tough Jew" (Solomon 120). Discussing the "culture of Jewish timidity and gentleness," Breines asserts that the stereotypes of the Jewish wimps/nerds are now supplanted by the "hardy bronzed kibbutznik" (3). Zionist influences, amongst others, have created an alternative for Jewish men: a tough, cool Jewish James Bond of sorts. Employing this powerful identity, Cohn displays his masculinity to the effeminate Belize via his discussion of cosmetic surgery: "See this scar on my nose? When I was three months, there was a bony spur, she [Cohn's mother] made them operate, shave it off. They said I was too young for surgery, I'd outgrow it but she insisted. I figure she wanted to toughen me up. And it worked. I am tough. It's taking a lot….to dismantle me" (215). In contrast to Belize's hyperbolic performance of femininity, Cohn performs a similarly hybridized, hyperbolic version of masculinity as he crows about this "toughness" garnered from his rhinoplasty. Through this performance, Cohn not only interrogates the stereotype of the weak, Jewish male, he proves his masculinity, his special blend of patriotic "tough Jew" American masculinity. This trickster can "outdrag" the drag queen any day.

Yet Cohn's rhinoplasty also alludes to circumcision and with it, to assimilation. Though Alissa Solomon observes that "this symbolic circumcision simultaneously marks Roy's Jewishness and his refusal to participate in stereotypical Jewish victim-hood," I want to clarify that this "symbolic circumcision" is neither a stand-in for assimilation nor used in lieu of the Jewish circumcision (120). Rather, it augments Cohn's hypermasculine performance. Admittedly, because Cohn's mother erases the stereotypical Jewish nose, this superficially resembles assimilation.⁷ Yet the emphasis on his "toughness" detracts from the assimilationist interpretation. His mother, treating him in Spartan-like fashion, refused to coddle him as she "wanted to toughen [him] up. Therefore, his surgery extends beyond the "toughness" of the infant required to "endure" the removal of the foreskin; the infantile Cohn must be even more resilient than the regular Jewish infant. He must be, in other words, one tough Jew. As Cohn morphs into the "tough Jew," this identity provides distance from the emasculating stereotypes of the Jewish body, guaranteeing both his virility and power.

Yet, for a brief moment, Cohn relaxes his "tough Jew" stance, switching identities before the sensitive Joe.⁸ While Solomon notes this rapid transformation, she takes it at face value, failing to examine how it affords Cohn power: "Only in the face of disbarment does the Tough Jew imagine himself the Jewish victim" (127). Yet it is not out of self-pity that Cohn shifts his stance; instead he does it precisely to manipulate Joe into supporting him. Before Joe, Cohn assumes the posture of the victimized Jew; yet this particular trickster performance seems entirely transparent: "I'm about to be tried, Joe, by a jury that is not a jury of my peers. The disbarment committee: genteel gentleman, Brahmin lawyers, country-club men. I offend them, to these men . . . I'm what, Martin, some sort of filthy little Jewish troll?" (72-73). We immediately recognize the ulterior motives behind this latest performance: to coerce Joe into the Justice Department appointment, securing friendly influences for his disbarment proceedings. Within the span of a few moments, the "tough Jew" perks back up in response to Joe's ethical qualms:

Un-ethical. Are you trying to embarrass me in front of my friend. . . What the fuck do you think this is, Sunday School? . . . I'm gonna be a lawyer, Joe. I'm gonna be a goddamn motherfucking legally licensed member of the bar lawyer, just like my daddy was, till my last bitter day on earth, Joseph, until the day I die.

(74-75)

His threatening demeanor thoroughly undermines the earlier and unsuccessful performance of the victimized Jew. But in the great tradition of fluid identities, Cohn can disband the "Jewish victim" or the "tough Jew" performance depending upon his audience to augment his power and influence. Nevertheless, this scene emphasizes Cohn's power, rather than his victimhood, because he remains a legally licensed lawyer until the day he dies in Angels. Indeed, our trickster possesses enough power to keep such weighted vows upon his deathbed.

Jewish Daddies

Seeking to further expand his sphere of influence, Cohn co-opts the Hebrew patriarchal tradition for his next trickster routine. Like an early Abraham, Cohn lacks biological heirs, so he must play father to his surrogate son, Joe. Expounding on the value of paternal relationships, Cohn intimates to Joe that the "father-son relationship is central to life. Women are for birth, beginning, but the father is continuance. The son offers the father his life as a vessel for carrying forth his father's dream" (62). The uncomfortable implications of this statement are obvious; the dying Cohn, in desperate need of a "vessel," betrays his dependency on Joe. To counteract this potentially emasculating stance, Cohn asserts his authority over Joe, his surrogate son, and simultaneously achieves a position of superiority in the form of this paternalistic relationship.

As father, Cohn demands obedience from Joe: "The most precious asset in life, I think, is the ability to be a good son. You have that, Joe" (62). With his malleability and timidity, Joe seems a fitting choice for the manipulative Cohn. As surrogate father, Cohn explains his paternal duties: "Life. That's what they're supposed to bless. Life" (214). Later, Cohn indeed gives Joe his blessing, a "brokhe," replete with religious connotations. The parenthesized stage directions command Joe's prostrate position before Roy, the "Almighty Father," the revered Hebrew patriarch: "Roy motions for Joe to come over, then for him to kneel. He puts his hand on Joe's forehead. Joe leans the weight of his head into Roy's hand. They both close their eyes and enjoy it for a moment" (214). Though Cohn exacts a degree of obedience and noxious subservience from Joe in exchange for his blessing, Cohn ultimately seeks to develop their relationship as mutually beneficial.

Yet, it's not enough to find a surrogate son; he must instantiate himself in a lineage of sorts, evoking the meticulous account of Hebrew descendants in the Book of Genesis. But rather than simply associating with an obsolete Hebrew lineage, our favorite trickster cleverly substitutes leading American political leaders. Cohn preserves the Judaic tradition, injecting it into a decidedly American context:

Somebody who can be a good son to a father who pushes them farther than they would otherwise go. I've had many fathers, I owe my life to them, powerful, powerful men. Walter Winchell, Edgar Hoover. Joe McCarthy most of all. He valued me because I am a good lawyer, but he loved me because I was and am a good son.

(62)

Ironically, Cohn does not espouse his loyalty to his real father (Al Cohn) who, as a lawyer and judge, would have been a fitting example for his career.⁹ In sharp contrast to the few Jewish patriarchs named in the Ironson family, Cohn's lineage boasts only "powerful men," American political figures. His surrogate fathers enabled Cohn's success, and he, too, senses the implausibility of his success without being a part of this ancestry. This American version of a Genesis-inspired Hebrew lineage affirms Cohn's power, inarguably situating him alongside the most powerful men in history.

However, Cohn's Americanized lineage is not completely devoid of Jewish themes. Indeed, Cohn explicitly addresses his concerns with the original Hebrew model. Improving upon the destructive patriarchal patterns of the Torah, Cohn attempts a mutually beneficial exchange:

(Roy): Ssshah. Schmendrick. Don't fuck up the magic. A Brokhe. You don't even have to trick it out of me, like what's- his-name in the Bible.

(Joe): Jacob.

(Roy): That's the one. A ruthless motherfucker, some bald runt, but he laid hold of his birthright with his claws and his teeth. Jacob's father—what was the guy's name?

(Joe): Isaac

(Roy): Yeah. The sacrifice. That jerk. My mother read me those stories.

(215)

Admittedly, this bare bones interpretation of Hebrew patriarchal lineage leaves quite a bit to be desired. The father-son relationship of the Torah becomes one of "sacrifice" rather than blessing. The Hebrew patriarchs, perhaps fellow tricksters in their own right, are cunning in their methods of exacting a blessing: they are "ruthless motherfuckers" who fight with their "claws" and "teeth." In response to these destructive patriarchal relationships, Cohn attempts to improve upon this model to suit his particular agenda.

Not surprisingly, Cohn soon perverts this paternalistic relationship with the introduction of another character. Though he constructs himself as a Hebrew patriarch, bestowing his life-affirming "brokhe," he tosses in a horrifying performance as the Angel of Death as well; this malignant angel exists as a far more powerful figure than any Abraham, Isaac, or Jacob. Engaging symbols of Jewish rituals, Cohn stages a disturbing reenactment of the Passover scene before Joe. After Joe attempts to "out" himself, Cohn calmly pulls out his IV while blood pours profusely from his wound. Almost instantly, the parallels to the Exodus story of Passover materialize on Kushner's stage. Cohn's blood becomes the sacred blood of the sacrificial lamb. But rather than smearing it upon Israelite doors to preserve their first-born, Cohn smears Joe's shirt with him per Kushner's stage directions. Yet this is not sacred blood, and Cohn's blood exists as an anti-blessing of sorts. Indeed, the Angel of Death courses through his HIV-positive riddled veins, and Cohn may gift his surrogate "first-born" with only disease. Though the Passover story stems from the desire to preserve the first-born, Cohn inverts the Exodus tale, serving only as the harbinger of death. Although dying, he brings about the powerfully monstrous, highlighting the perversity of paternal bloodlines. Cohn's trickster performance accelerates into the truly sinister as he plays Death onstage.

Post-Mortem Performances

A trickster's work is never done, and even after death, Cohn has serious scores to settle. Once relieved of his disease-riddled body, Cohn executes his most dazzling performance of tricksterism as he perpetuates shocking usurpations of power on both God and Ethel Rosenberg through his ever-shifting identities: metamorphosing from the "tough Jew" into a respectable prophet, changing from child to Golem, and reinvigorating his law practice in a decidedly new zip code.

Though Cohn revives the "tough Jew" routine for Ethel, he augments it with his purported religious power. Smug in the certainty of a positive outcome for both his disbarment proceedings and his eventual death, Cohn taunts her: "All mine enemies will be standing on the other shore, mouths gaping open like stupid fish, while the Almighty parts the Sea of Death and lets his Royboy cross over to Jordan. On dry land and still a lawyer" (245). Evoking Psalm references, Cohn anchors his assurance in corrupted references to the Hebrew Bible. Yet, he simultaneously undercuts the religious overtones with his irreverent jibes toward his enemies, their "mouths gaping open like stupid fish." Buoyed by his egomania, he conjures the Exodus and casts himself as the neo-Moses, God's beloved and specially-chosen "Royboy." Yet, Cohn is neither God's beloved patriarch nor prophet, and Ethel's response further deflates this entire performance: "I wanted the news should [sic] come from me. The panel ruled against you Roy" (245). "Royboy" appears to have lost God's favor; indeed, this trickster could not even charm God into parting the "Sea of Death" for him. As such, our shape-shifter still has a few tricks up his sleeve for both Ethel and God.

Embarking on another elaborate performance, Cohn transforms from a whimpering child to a magical golem before Ethel.¹⁰ Feigning delirium on his death bed, Cohn calls out for his mother, using her special nickname: "Muddy. I feel bad. Sing to me" (246). Impersonating a child, Cohn begins to cry and begs Ethel to sing for him: "Please, it's scary out here" (246). Once Ethel relents, crooning a Yiddish lullaby to Cohn, he gleefully springs up, rising from the dead like a fiendish golem: "I fooled you Ethel, I knew who you were all along. I can't believe you fell for that ma stuff, I just wanted to see if I could finally, finally make Ethel Rosenberg sing! I WIN!" (247). His self-satisfied triumph enables him to die, almost happily, as he reasserts his power over Ethel in the afterlife through the transformation from vulnerable child to golem. Her execution was not enough for the insatiable Roy; he desired to further her humiliation by forcing her into a performance, a duet of sorts.

Cohn's megalomania predictably persists, as he attempts to get even with God. In the afterlife, he invigorates his status as a formidable lawyer to formally usurp God's power. Though God abandoned his "Royboy," Cohn suspiciously urges his services upon God; not surprisingly, his speech belies ambitions well beyond the realm of the ordinary:

Paternity suit? Abandonment? Family court is my particular métier, I'm an absolute fucking demon with Family Law . . . Yes I will represent you, King of the Universe, yes I will sing and eviscerate, I will bully and seduce, I will win for you and make the plaintiffs, those traitors, wish they had never heard the name of . . .

(274).

Indeed, Cohn constructs an opportunity far superior to a regular lawyer; if he represents the "King of the Universe" in the heavenly court, what exactly does that make him? In this one-sided exchange, God stands as a supplicant before him, in desperate need of his legal aid. Finally, God's thunderclap disrupts Cohn's speech, preventing any mention of his name, as if, like God, the name "Roy Cohn" is simply too sacred to be even uttered. Predictably, Cohn revels in such treatment, as God silently acquiesces, perhaps even grovels, to such a proposal: "Is it a done deal, are we on? Good, then I gotta start by telling you you ain't got a case here, you're guilty as hell, no question, you have nothing to plead but not to worry, darling, I will make something up" (274). In one fluid sweep, the trickster possesses a multiplicity of identities: lawyer, jury, and judge of God. And as the final hyperbole in this remarkable turn of events, Cohn asks God, his "darling," to put his faith in him and is fluency in deception. His actions beg the question: what type of tricks did Cohn turn to achieve such a magnificent inversion of roles?

Whatever tricks he might have turned, Cohn's most impressive trick was his accumulation of power in post-World War II America. Though his behavior remains anchored, at best, in amoral ambiguity, the treatment of his Jewish identity presents an alternative to assimilation and something far more complicated than collaboration. What is ultimately at stake, then, is an interrogation of the limited identities post-war America offered to Jewish Americans. In other words, Kushner's characterization of Cohn opens up a wider space within the Arendtian binarism of pariah and parvenu. Most surprising is that this widening is effected precisely via his Jewish identity—that which places him "outside society."

Moreover, Kushner's construction of a malevolent trickster challenges contemporary understandings of tricksterism. Though Ammons calls tricksters "bad," suggesting that such figures are only interpreted as such through the lens of the dominant culture, our trickster is Bad (with a capital B) and scare quotes are scarcely necessary. But my point, however, is not to further malign or condemn Roy Cohn. What seems most interesting is the manner in which his amorality complicates the theorization of the trickster. The trickster, in other words, might not be a benefit to anyone. Because the trickster espouses loyalty to no one, we cannot pin our hopes of subversion on such an unstable figure. Given this revelation, we ought to critically rethink optimistic readings that attempt to locate a use value in the trickster. Taken to its logical extreme, tricksterism may closely resemble Kushner's Roy Cohn—someone who possesses enough chutzpah to be an unapologetic schmuck.