The Hidden Isaac Bashevis Singer

12. Bashevis at Forverts

12 Bashevis at Forverts Janet Hadda It was a mismatch made in heaven—Bashevis Singer and Abe Cahan. The many years Isaac Bashevis Singer spent in Cahan’s kingdom at Forverts were central to his professional development as a novelist and to his private experience as an immigrant . Had it not been for the twists of family history that brought Bashevis to Forverts, he would have missed both his greatest opportunity and his deepest humiliation . What was it in Bashevis’s upbringing and sensibility that brought him into such an unhappy relationship with the formidable Abraham Cahan? American Yiddish culture as it looks today would not exist without Bashevis and Cahan. In his own way, each revolutionized the perception of Eastern European Jewish life on American soil. The two shared important individual traits. Each had a grandfather who was an influential rabbi. Each made the move from birth in the Old Country to permanent residence in New York. Each possessed intellectual brilliance and intuitive foresight; each was passionate about literature and ruthless in its pursuit. And each contributed long years of service to Forverts. Yet the two could hardly have been more different, and their conflicts were profound and painful. Cahan was the ultimate mediator, viewing diversity as vital challenge. Bashevis was the frightened adversary, viewing opposition as deadly betrayal. Cahan was a modernist, looking forward to the developments of history with energy and determination. Bashevis was a conservative, looking backward to validate his criticism of the present. Cahan was an optimist who always landed on his feet. Bashevis was a pessimist who perennially fought, and sometimes succumbed to, paralytic depression. Cahan embraced building. Bashevis skirted nihilism. The man who brought these two unlikely collaborators together was Bashevis’s older brother, Israel Joshua. I. J. was a man after Cahan’s own heart: politically progressive , socially enlightened, personally dependable, artistically straightforward.  Early on, Cahan had taken a central role in promoting I. J.’s career. In  Forverts had published I. J.’s short story ‘‘Perl’’ (Pearl) and had put the young writer on the Yiddish literary map. The story had originally been published in the Soviet Union but had provided scant recognition for I. J. Cahan took pride in having discovered a rising talent. He also invited I. J. to join the staff of Forverts as a correspondent, a position the Warsaw-based writer accepted. But in a well-known incident, when the publications Bikher-velt (Book-World) in Warsaw and Frayheyt (Freedom) in New York both denounced him for stooping to write journalism for Forverts, I. J. vowed that he would never create fiction again. Cahan was dismayed. As he later recalled: ikh hob zikh mit zingern etlekhe mol gezen in eyrope un yedes mol hob ikh im gepruvt bavayzn, az zayn tsurikhaltn zikh fun der literatur iber yene geshikhte iz naiv. es hot alts nit gevirkt. er hot geshribn glentsende korespondentsn, ober tsu literatur hot er zikh alts nit genumen.1 I saw Singer several times in Europe, and every time I tried to prove to him that his withdrawal from literature over this incident was naïve. Nothing worked. Hewrote brilliant pieces of journalism, but he still refused to return to literature. As we know, I. J.’s resolve eventually crumbled. In the spring of  he presented Cahan with the manuscript of Yoshe Kalb, which the editor hailed in Forverts as ‘‘thrilling.’’2 But I. J. was not only a talented writer. He was also a good older brother who took care of his delicate and complicated sibling, Yitskhok, with all the devotion of a father. Yitskhok arrived in the United States on May , , following I. J., who had moved to New York the previous year. I. J.’s situation enabled him to help his brother—by then the promising young novelist who called himself Bashevis . Both through I. J.’s influence and because of Bashevis’s own success with Der sotn in goray, Cahan invited the -year-old author to publish a novel in installments . Moreover, Cahan granted Bashevis an extraordinary privilege: he did not require him to complete his novel before the serialization commenced. This allowance was a major concession, and it was certainly a gift. But whereas I. J. had once kept silent because of a petulant vow, Bashevis was silent for other reasons. Af- flicted by a monumental writer’s block, depressed and inhibited, he simply could not produce. Bashevis’s novel Der zindiker meshiekh was eventually completed after...