Joann Sfar, a French Jew, has created a number of best-selling comic books, many of which—such as Klezmer and The Rabbi’s Cat—focus on Jewish themes and characters. Sfar has written that he loves Israel; he also believes French intellectuals are beset by a “neurosis about Israel and Palestine.” Yet his fiction bespeaks both an antipathy toward Zionism and a deep ambivalence about the Diaspora, as Michael Weingrad writes:
[W]hile Sfar sees Zionism as an understandable Jewish response to anti-Semitism, the state of Israel holds no attraction for him. The Rabbi’s Cat, for instance, concludes with a story in which the characters search for a fabled Jewish homeland in the wilderness of Africa. Apart from the cat, the two characters who reach this mythical Jerusalem are Marc Chagall and the African woman he falls in love with along the way.
They hope to find a place where they will be accepted—Jew and black, victims of anti-Semitism and European racism, respectively. However, the foreboding, Assyrian-esque city’s inhabitants—gigantic, blue-skinned, sword-and-magen-david-toting “Jews who have never left the land of their ancestors . . . happy, balanced people who radiate self-confidence”—expel Chagall and his wife. . . . It requires little interpretive effort to see this as Sfar’s portrayal of Israel, martial, oriental, and alien, and which he believes can offer no welcome to a cosmopolitan artist of European background, let alone one whose wife, like Sfar’s, is not Jewish.
[By contrast,] the final volume of Klezmer . . . dramatizes Sfar’s suspension between an anti-Semitism that makes life for Jews impossible in France and the forms of Jewish solidarity (Orthodoxy and Israel; religion and state) that he rejects. . . . To stay in Europe is to embrace a Judaism that is diasporic, European, cosmopolitan, progressive, and cultural rather than religious—all traits that he apparently believes cannot be found in Israel. Yet he recognizes that in choosing Europe one possibly chooses destruction. “In [earlier crises], the Jews who left Europe were wrong . . . yet their families survived,” he writes, while those who remained “and had the truth on their side . . . with rare exceptions died.”
Read more at Jewish Review of Books
More about: Anti-Semitism, Arts & Culture, French Jewry, Jewish literature, Marc Chagall, Zionism