From Avraham to Avraham

Avraham (Alan) Mintz approached me about six months before his untimely death to announce that his new book on Agnon's ʿ Ir umelo ʾ ah was going to be dedicated to me and to Avraham (Arnold) Band. Three Avrahamim together.¹

"How come?" I asked.

"It's what I want," he answered.

As they say, how does one reply when informed of such an honor? As they say, כנגד רצונו של אדם אין טענות. One cannot object to another person's wishes. Alan went on to say that a book launch was being planned at JTS, and that he wanted me to speak in Hebrew at the event.

I said to him, "Look, I'm not going to feel comfortable doing that. You're dedicating the book to me. I wouldn't feel comfortable talking about a book that's dedicated to me. I'm used to speaking, but not about myself."

"Even so," Alan said.

"What does that mean, 'even so'?" I asked.

"Even so," he repeated, "I want you to speak in Hebrew."

"But ninety-eight percent of the people there won't understand me!" I retorted.

"Doesn't matter," he said. "I want you to speak in Hebrew, a short speech, only five to seven minutes."

"But you agreed that ninety-eight percent of the people there won't understand me!" I repeated.

"It doesn't matter," he replied. "I want you to speak in Hebrew. Those who understand will understand. Those who don't understand, it'll be their loss." So fierce was Alan's love of the Hebrew language and his dedication to it that he wanted others to see that it meant something to make that effort to speak and to understand the language. He expressed the intensity of his special relationship with Hebrew in his brilliant essay in Mosaic (April 17, 2017), "My Life with Hebrew." This article has now been faithfully translated into Hebrew and will soon appear in the journal Ha ʿ ivrit, a publication of the Academy of the Hebrew Language in Jerusalem.

How could I possibly refuse his request that I speak in Hebrew? You can ask my wife, Toby, with whom I shared my quandary. How does one go about discharging such a task? It's very strange indeed to be asked to get up and speak in front of a group that doesn't comprehend what you're saying, especially when speaking about matters that touch your soul so deeply. But that's what he asked of me, and that was what I was going to have to do. I began to think about what I might say, and we agreed that we would speak more about it closer to the date of the event.

Meanwhile, the tragedy of his passing befell us all, and it was decided that the book launch event would now become a memorial gathering. Once again: a difficult situation. What can one possibly say at such an occasion? Given that the book was dedicated to the two of us, Band and me, I would have to say something about the book. But what?

Well, here it is. I had told Alan that he was the only person who could have succeeded in convincing the Guggenheim Foundation that Agnon's stories were part of world literature. Due to his comprehensive knowledge of English and European literature, as well as his profound understanding of contemporary literary theory and criticism, Alan demonstrated that Agnon, the Hebrew writer, is a world-class author. Hence their support for his book. And that was true. Only Alan could have accomplished that feat.

I was so honored by our relationship and our many wonderful meetings. When his book Sanctuary in the Wilderness: A Critical Introduction to American Hebrew Poetry came out, I read it from cover to cover and complimented him, of course, and told him that Avraham Epstein, whom he mentions in the book—another Avraham—was my teacher at an institution that no longer exists, the Herzliah Hebrew Teachers Institute in New York. Alan was so excited to hear this. He said, "You saw that I mention him in the introduction to the...