'Judaizm jako los': On the Essay by Bogdan Wojdowski

The writings of Bogdan Wojdowski (1930–94) are intimately connected to his biography. When applying the methodological tools of contemporary literary criticism to his texts, we soon realize that knowing the circumstances of his life enriches our reading of his works. In many cases—for example that of his best-known novel Chleb rzucony umarłym (1971; published in English as Bread for the Departed, 1997)—Wojdowski's biography contains significant details that provide a partial key to understanding the work. Chleb rzucony umarłym was consciously constructed as a novel in which the storyline is linked to the author's life. In the book, we also encounter an autobiographical space¹ signalled to the reader on the level of the structure of the work, as well as a shaping of the author's biography in public awareness, traces of which are clearly found in his statements in published interviews, in the introduction to the novel, and in his extremely important essay 'Judaizm jako los' ('Judaism as Fate'). A statement from one version of the essay epitomizes the particularly strong bond between the work and the biography: 'As for me, I mainly follow the experiences of my own biography.'²

Wojdowski was fully aware of the great 'break' of his life events into two parts: before the Holocaust and after it. His first world was lost during the war years, most significantly in 1942. That time was deeply marked by the experiences of the ghetto and his final separation from his family. It was then that he first experienced the acute sense of solitude that was never to leave him. The feeling of loneliness and the constant threat of losing his life became embedded in the psyche of the teenager; these feelings taught him to be distrustful and reserved. The heritage of those years included recurring bouts of depression, ever more serious episodes of illness, and attempts at suicide. Years later, Wojdowski wrote: 'O incredible existence of mine! Before the war. During the war. After the war. I am myself then and myself now; myself here and myself there.'³

But Wojdowski, even as he was working on Chleb rzucony umarłym, did not wish for his writing to be classed with Holocaust-themed works. He wrote in his diary: 'I used humour to protect myself, because I didn't want to appear as the exclusive trustee of the Holocaust. I rejected that mandate.'⁴ However, this rejection did not imply the avoidance of painful themes, but was an attempt by him to show that he was not turning his back on contemporary subjects. Neither can this attitude be construed as a rejection of his Jewishness, as a few lines later he makes an intimate declaration: 'It is simply immoral to wring your hands over yourself and your own fate when the fate of a million others is just the same or even more pitiable. In fact, I am truly ashamed that I'm still alive. Had I been a bit older, I would have gone with my father. Straight to the chimney.'⁵

Literary historians usually assign Wojdowski to the circle of the 'generation of Współczesność', or include him in the 'generation of '56'.⁶ However, this categorization merely reflects the period of his work in the editorial office of Współczesność and the date of his debut as a prose writer. In reality, as can be seen more clearly in retrospect, the writings of Wojdowski seem not to be typical of that generation.⁷ He distanced himself from attempts at historical and literary classification, as is evident in many of his statements: 'My generation has perished. I lived in articulo mortis. And I write in articulo mortis.'⁸ Wojdowski's writing is characterized by a creative process that asks fundamental questions about his own existence, attitudes, and duties: 'I have no thought of abandoning my discipline. I intend to persevere. In spite of what's happening from season to season.'⁹

On a rational interpretation, for Wojdowski the war was not the end but...