On Wednesday, Feb. 26, The New York Times ran a front-page article by Joseph Berger entitled “A Discovery of Lost Pages Brings to Light a ‘Last Great Yiddish Novel.’” The article detailed the search for a missing manuscript by a giant of 20th century Yiddish literature, Chaim Grade, its subsequent discovery and translation.
What? You never heard of Chaim Grade? You know about Isaac Bashevis Singer, the Nobel Prize winner. But Grade? Who is he, and why is he such a mystery? Let’s compare them.
Grade’s work, like Singer’s, was written in Yiddish and translated. Both authors focused on Vilna and Eastern European Jewish life. Grade’s literary output includes several novels, essays, and nine books of poetry. Singer was more prolific and authored novels, short stories, essays, children’s books, and memoirs.
Grade (pronounced GRAHD-uh) focused on the minutiae of Orthodox Jewish life and customs (one of his especially esteemed works was the two-volume “The Yeshiva”). Singer, whose oeuvres often pulsed with demons and otherworldly figures, was more reader-friendly and accessible.
Personality-wise, the two men were totally different. Singer had an outsize personality and a flair for showmanship. He lectured in English with humor and charm. Grade was not a public figure and lived a more solitary and reclusive life. Neither he nor his works entered the public consciousness.
Because Singer was more well-known and his work more accessible, his stories found their way to Hollywood. “Yentl” with Barbra Streisand was based on Singer’s story, “Yentl the Yeshiva Boy.”
Last, but not least, while each writer was married, their relationships were vastly different. Singer’s wife appeared to be a helpmate, especially in her husband’s early years, encouraging and nurturing his aspirations to be a writer of note. Grade, whose first wife, child, and mother had died in the Holocaust, had remarried. His second wife, Inna, appeared less a helpmate than an adversary.
Thus, this illustrious writer, whose work by those in the know has been compared to that of Tolstoy, has remained somewhat of a mystery to most readers, Jews as well as gentiles.
So what happened?
The contrasts between the two giants of Yiddish literature help explain the difference in their reception and recognition. But the relationship between Grade and his wife is something else. And it has impacted his reputation and visibility over the years.
I am no literary scholar. Nor am I an expert in the works of Singer or Grade. But 50 years ago, when I interviewed Chaim Grade, I got a close-up view of the relationship between the writer and his wife and saw how it might have impacted negatively on his reputation and legacy.
Grade died in 1980, Inna in 2010, some 30 years after her husband. During those 30 years, her behavior vis-à-vis her husband reflected my observations during the interview.
My article was published on Dec. 5, 1974, in The Jewish News of Metropolitan New Jersey, where I worked as a journalist. Curt Leviant, an old friend and translator of several Grade novels, called me about writing a review of Grade’s latest book, “The Agunah,” which he had translated. I agreed to do it but wanted the chance to interview Mr. Grade. I promised to print both the review and interview simultaneously, which I did. Curt facilitated the interview.
My experience at the interview was disconcerting. Even all these years later, I find it hard to process. My career as a journalist had many unusual twists and turns, but I was unprepared to interview someone whose partner (in this case, Inna) did everything she could to disrupt the conversation and insert herself into the interview process.
During my interview with Grade in that overstuffed Bronx apartment, Inna rarely left the room. But she walked in and out, back and forth, in a nervous manner. She often interrupted our conversation, constantly interjecting her own comments. Her tone was full of bitterness and jealousy. She said she wanted me to include her and her accomplishments in my article. I told her I could not promise to do so.
She kept mentioning her career and how she had given it up for him. And she was angry. Throughout it all, Grade never said a word to her and behaved as if she wasn’t in the room. It was clear to me that their relationship was tumultuous, conflictual, and highly combative.
After Grade’s death, his wife sought ways to undermine his reputation and exert control over his legacy. A case in point was her refusal to grant permission for the publication of one of his poems in an anthology of prominent Yiddish writers. One could also point to the “discovery” of the unpublished manuscript. It was among his papers for almost 30 years, but requests for access to his vast files and manuscripts by Yiddish scholars were denied.
Over the years, some critics called her behavior mercurial and a mystery. Others suggested she was being overly protective of his work. Through three decades, she remained unresponsive to calls or letters requesting assistance or permission to use her husband’s work.
In my opinion, her jealousy and anger reached their peak after his death. She was now in control and had found a way to spite him by reducing his imprint in the literary world. When she died, I remember thinking that at least she didn’t destroy his papers. I really thought she was capable of it.
My last interaction with the Grades occurred some months after my interview. The author was scheduled to give a presentation at New York’s 92nd St. Y. In Yiddish. My own Yiddish was non-existent, but I decided to go out of respect for him. I brought flowers to give him after the lecture.
After sitting through a long presentation in Yiddish, none of which I understood, I approached the stage with my bouquet. Inna saw me coming. She rushed over, grabbed the flowers out of my hands, mumbled something about them being bad luck, and threw them into the nearest wastebasket. Whether she was angry with me for not including her in my article or simply wanted to divert attention away from her husband remains a mystery.
Hopefully, the publication of this rediscovered work will bring Grade some of the appreciation and recognition he so rightly deserves.
Judith Manelis is a writer, editor, and journalist whose work has appeared in American Jewish newspapers and magazines. Her book “This Shall Tell All Ages: Art, Music and Writings of the Holocaust” was published by United Jewish Appeal.
