News
Garber Announces Advisory Committee for Harvard Law School Dean Search
News
First Harvard Prize Book in Kosovo Established by Harvard Alumni
News
Ryan Murdock ’25 Remembered as Dedicated Advocate and Caring Friend
News
Harvard Faculty Appeal Temporary Suspensions From Widener Library
News
Man Who Managed Clients for High-End Cambridge Brothel Network Pleads Guilty
The plight of the modern Jew is thoroughly treated in such disparate novels as The Wall and Remember Me to God. Since World War II, most novels about Jews deal with either annihilation or assimilation, getting out of the Warsaw Ghetto or into the Hasty Pudding Club. The atrocities of the National Socialist regime seem to have had an effect other than that desired by Hitler; they have made the public acutely conscious of the sufferings of the Jews. Auschwitz and Dachau created a wide and sympathetic audience for the outpourings of such ethnic authors as Herman Wouk and Philip Roth. This, however, has not always been kind to the Jews themselves.
Somewhere in this plethora of novels, the basic ethics of Judaism, such as they are, have been lost; the characters have become stereotyped. They no longer have faith, they only have problems. Dickie Amsterdam is the most despicable "hero" to appear in a long time, and Marjorie Morningstar's plight is hardly worth the effort. This theme of assimilation gives the Jewish author a chance to spew out all his anger at being born a Jew, at being, in some sense, alienated from the rest of society. The cast of characters is always the same: the old fashioned parents, a member of the family who habitually gets drunk at the Seder, another relative who is, embarrassingly enough, an Orthodox Jew, who actually goes to Temple and observes the directory laws. I do not ask that every Jew be a paragon of virtue, but I find novels of this genre increasingly offensive and some of them more than faintly anti-Semitic.
Thus, it is altogether a pleasure to read the artistically written and in some ways highly extraordinary first novel of Andre Schwarz-Bart, The Last of the Just. For here the author makes a serious attempt to examine the basic tenets of the Jewish faith and the significance of this ethic to its believers. Judaism has, after all, survived for almost six thousand years in the face of continuous persecution that reached a crescendo in the Second World War. The modern Jew looks back on this incredible history with mingled pride and horror, often wondering whether his faith is worth the suffering. This is one of the central issues treated in The Last of the Just.
The Last of the Just is essentially two books. It is the story of the martyrdom and metamorphosis of Ernie Levy, and it is also the history of the persecution of the Jews as a people since the 12th Century. The story is based on the Hebrew tradition of the Lamed-Vov, the Just man. According to this legend, "the world reposes upon thirty-six Just Men, indistinguishable from simple mortals; often they are unaware of their situation. But if just one of them were lacking, the sufferings of mankind would poison even the souls of the newborn... For the Lamed-Vov are the hearts of the world multiplied, and into them, as into one receptacle, pour all our griefs." The descendents of Rabbi Yom Tov Levy, martyred in 1185, are granted the grace of one Lamed-Vov in every generation, and Ernie Levy is the last Just Man in his line.
Without this myth, the story of the House of Levy, and of Ernie Levy in particular, would be just another saga of suffering. Using this legend, the author is able to create a deeply religious mystique that underlies the entire tale of martyrdom, that makes it somehow more real, more heartfelt, and more tragic than the usual scenes of persecution and extermination.
For Ernie Levy is something of a visionary. Even as a child, he seeks to understand the meaning of God's design; he aspires to be a Just Man. It is Ernie Levy's effort to comprehend the role of the Just Man, his rebellion, his eventual return and resignation to suffering that are the heart of the novel.
Ernie goes through several stages before he finally matures into a true Just Man--an "Inconsolable." He is first a "Just Man of the Flies." He dreams of suffering for his family and for others. In his bumbling efforts at kindness, he is rebuffed and he determines that if he can be just for no one else, he will at least be just to insects.
But he is struck down by the Nazi brutality. He is tortured by his classmates, he learns to hate. And in the horror of the war, he replies in kind by becoming a dog. "I shall do everything humanly possible," he declares, "to turn myself into a dog."
He rejects his authority, dresses in tatters, and humiliates himself by wandering alone in Unoccupied France, drinking ice water and eating raw meat. Having lost his faith, Ernie Levy adapts himself to the world of animals he now sees.
Often, when a Just Man arrives in Heaven, he is so frozen that it takes years for God to unfreeze him, and, in similar fashion Ernie Levy gradually thaws through contact with sympathetic people. He realizes that he can not reject his people or his faith, "that the Jewish heart must break a thousand times for the greater good of all peoples. That is why we were chosen." And he voluntarily marches off to his death in the gas chamber.
What makes this novel so extraordinary is that it is both an allegory and a chronicle of despair. The style fluctuates rapidly between poetic vision and brutal realism. The characters are naturally symbolic, but at the same time human--although remarkable in their sensitivity. Ernie Levy is the six million Jews put to death by the "final solution," yet, at certain moments, he is a most ordinary human being. That M. Schwarz-Bart has been able for the most part to combine these two levels of his story successfully is a tribute both to his skill and his diligence--the dust jacket proclaims that this is the sixth version of the novel.
But The Last of the Just is more again than merely a history of martyrdom, it is also an accusation. An accusation of a world that, in the name of Christ, has persecuted the Jews for almost two thousand years. "They take the cross," says Ernie in a moment of bitterness, "and they turn it around." In such moments of anger, and in others of heavy concern (It is admirable that during a period when they were teaching murder to their Aryan scholars, the instructors taught the Jewish children suicide") M. Schwartz. Bart momentarily abandons the ideal of patient suffering that illuminates his strongest characters.
Yet this ethic of resignation persists in the end. It is not the cultural masochism that appears in many novels about the Jews. Rather it is a despairing admission that, absurd as it may be, "that's how it is". Ernie Levy dosen't have a choice. In Hitler's world there is no such thing as "assimilation." Ernie puts his yellow Star of David on with pleasure. "He had no intention of glorifying himself, of separating himself from the humble procession of the Jewish people." He has learned, through his suffering, that he has a moral obligation to himself and to his people; and this is his fate as the last Just Man in a world that has become a nightmare.
Want to keep up with breaking news? Subscribe to our email newsletter.