No one would think twice about calling the prolific, versatile, and masterful critic and essayist Joseph Epstein a Jewish writer (as opposed to a writer who happens to be Jewish), in part because of his associations with Jewish writers like Saul Bellow and the milieu of the New York intellectuals, and in part because of his associations with the explicitly Jewish magazine Commentary and with unofficially Jewish magazines (at the time he wrote for them) like Dissent and the New Republic. Yet he never wrote extensively or in great depth about Judaism and Jewish topics, although all sorts of insights about these subjects are scattered throughout his writings. Jesse Tisch, reviewing a memoir and recent collection of essays by Epstein, observes:
He wasn’t religious, and Jewish matters could seem peripheral to him. Yet he had been raised Jewish and joined Jewish cliques in high school. (“Jews on one side, Gentiles on the other,” he recalled. “This, we assumed, was the way of the world.”) Epstein’s Jewishness deepened over the years, a mixture of culture, kinship, and Jewish pride. “As for my Jewishness . . . I find it is a central strain in my character and even exult in it,” he later wrote.
A deepening engagement with Jewish writing was also apparent. He reviewed Philip Roth thoughtfully, if acidly. . . . While praising Malamud’s sensitive early stories, he ruefully dismissed the later novels. A 1982 essay, “Malamud in Decline,” began by asking, “When do we give up on a novelist?”
“I cherish the books of Isaac Bashevis Singer for their Jewish spirit,” he wrote, likening him to Tolstoy: “a man of dignity, humility, the broadest intelligence and extraordinary dedication to the act of writing.” Epstein’s father’s family, from Białystok, was little known to him, and this “Jewish historical blackout” troubled him. He credited Singer for “helping to put me in touch with my almost entirely lost historical past.” He even forgave Singer’s sex obsession. In Singer’s fiction, he said, “the pleasures of sex mix with the terrors of guilt and sin, and somewhere off in the distance you feel perhaps God is watching.”
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More about: American Jewish literature, Isaac Bashevis Singer, Literary criticism