In the Ashkenazi world, Jews had rich traditions of the Purim play, or shpil. Its proper form, writes Miriam Udel, involved “retelling the story of the megillah — often with outrageously funny distortions—in rhyming verse (gramen).” While most of these were works of folk art, they were also written by outstanding literary figures, including the great Yiddish modernist poet Itsik Manger. Udel writes:
One of the most poignant examples, Alef Kats’s Purim shpil, was published alongside another play (Gut morgn, alef, or “Good Morning, Aleph”) that had first appeared in 1946 and been staged in Displaced Persons camps in Germany. His Purim script hews closely to tradition, with each of seven scenes (today we might call them acts) focusing on a different character or event in the biblical story.
But Kats frames his rhymes with a prologue and an epilogue set at a postwar Purim feast, where the family’s connection to the deep Jewish past is underscored by the names of the grandchildren present: Esterke and Motele, diminutives for Esther and Mordecai.
The zeyde, or grandfather, voices the epilogue, which is a kind of pep talk for the youngest generation. “We were all in the lion’s mouth,” he declares, urging the children to see a modern miracle in the survival of a remnant of European Jewry. “After the wound of the six million,” . . . the zeyde calls for his descendants to live proudly as Jews, nourishing themselves with traditions like the Purim shpil.
Udel translates some excerpts of the poem, in which—to give you a flavor—Ahasuerus’ advisers say, “Our heads are full to the brim with our thinking/ Just as the King runneth over with drinking.”
More about: Holocaust, Poetry, Purim, Yiddish literature