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Aline Kominsky-Crumb, who transformed comics first as a muse and then as a feminist artist, dies at 74
(JTA) — Robert Crumb put the “x” in comix by setting to paper his basest sexual longings, including strong-legged Jewish women who were cowgirls and who went by the name Honeybunch Kaminski.
So when an actual strong-legged Jewish cowgirl named Aline Kominsky walked into his life, it was love at first sight, and never wavered.
Aline Kominsky-Crumb, who died Wednesday at 74 in France of pancreatic cancer, was late to the revolution her husband launched in comics a few years before they met, with his Zap Comix. The “x” was a signifier of what was then known as “underground” comics and referred to the unfiltered treatment of humanity that censorious publishers, politicians and public figures had all but washed out of the art.
She soon fully embraced the art form and then helped transform it.
Working with her husband and then on her own, Kominsky-Crumb brought to comics raw self-lacerating accountability and subverted crude stereotypes about Jewish women — including those peddled by her husband — by taking possession of them.
She started out as a self-acknowledged sex object reviled by second-wave feminists and became a hero of younger feminists for modeling unfettered sexual expression. She was the brassy Jewish stereotype who became the muse who guided her husband to a deeper consideration of Judaism.
Kominsky-Crumb, born Aline Ricky Goldsmith in 1948 in the Five Towns, a Jewish enclave on Long Island, had a Jewish upbringing that was in many ways conventional, horrifying and both at the same time. She wrote about the warmth of her grandparents’ home and how she sought in it succor and about the pressures her materialistic parents placed on her. She said she was named for a Five Towns clothing store, Aline Ricky, that sold French fashion knockoffs. She resisted her mother’s pressure to get a nose job.
In one autobiographical comic, she recalls seeing one Jewish girl after another coming into school after plastic surgery. “Me ‘n’ my friends developed a ‘big nose pride,’” she writes, and one of the characters says, “I could not stand to look like a carbon copy!”
She told fellow Jewish cartoonist Sarah Lightman about the ordeal. “Like, I kept my nose, but it was really a close call, because my mother had me in Doctor Diamond’s office and he measured my nose. I remember that. They took an instrument and measured your nose. And then he took a piece of paper and he said,’ look, we can make it look like this.’ And I said, ‘Oh my God.’ My mother said, ‘Oh, it’s gorgeous, gorgeous.’”
In her teens, Kominsky-Crumb fled the suburbs for Manhattan. She studied at Cooper Union, an art school, and lived on the Lower East Side, earning plaudits from her instructors for her painting, but getting bored. She had a baby and gave it up for adoption to a Jewish agency, an experience that scarred her, and later led her to become outspoken in advocating for abortion rights.
After she married Carl Kominsky, they moved to Tucson, Arizona, which she called “hippie heaven.” There, she left her husband for a cowboy who lived with two brothers and his father in what she said was “the middle of nowhere” where she helped out on horseback, albeit under the influence of hallucinogens. (She said her beau was killed in a shootout with a romantic rival after she left.)
In Tucson, she met two pioneers of underground comics, Kim Deitch and Spain Rodriguez. They encouraged her to move to San Francisco, which was the scene of the burgeoning movement.
She did and met Crumb at a party in 1971, within three years of his having created “Honeybunch Kaminski, the drug-crazed runaway” (1968) and “Dale Steinberger, the Jewish Cowgirl.” Kominsky-Crumb, who had kept her first husband’s last name because it sounded more “ethnic” than Goldsmith, was so taken with the her husband’s lustful Jewish imaginings, and how closely she physically resembled them, that when she started creating her own, she named her avatar “Bunch,” a shortened version of the character whose name most closely matched her own.
It was kismet, except it wasn’t at first. Crumb and Kominsky-Crumb got together, but maintained open relationships. Crumb endured Kominsky-Crumb’s dalliances with other men for decades, but Kominsky-Crumb was not as able (or willing) to reciprocate. When one of Crumb’s exes arrived at their commune in Mendocino, she told The Comics Journal in 1990, she was furious. “I had a total s— fit,” she said, “I was wearing these giant platform shoes. I ran out the door and I fell and broke my foot in six places.”
Crumb sent the ex on her way and entertained the recovering Kominsky with a pastime he and his brother worked out as children: They would co-create a comic.
That process drew the couple closer, and also became a decades-long unflinching chronicle of a relationship. A culmination, “Drawn Together,” was critically acclaimed when it came out in 2012.
In one passage in the 2012 book, she gently chides her husband for resorting to antisemitic tropes — although it was tropes about loud, slightly unhinged, sexually voracious Jewish women that drew them together.
One page depicts the couple in bed. Crumb is stung by an accusation of antisemitism from Art Spiegelman. (Spiegelman joined with Crumb to launch the underground comics scene in the 1960s, but they grew apart as Spiegelman, who would author the Holocaust chronicle “Maus,” sought to attach an overarching philosophy to the genre, while Crumb continued to crave crude authenticity.)
Crumb says that Spiegelman “seems to be taking my ruminations about the Jews as antisemitism … I certainly didn’t mean it as such.” Kominsky-Crumb draws herself into the panel, listening to her husband, as a little girl wearing tefillin, a T-shirt with “kosher” in Hebrew and a Star of David pendant. In the next panel, once again appearing as a grown woman in a negligee, she makes clear to Crumb why she feels vulnerable as a Jew in the marriage.
“Dahling, you do call the Jewish religion ‘Brand X’,” she says.. “Now I might even think that’s true in some ways … and I’m one o’ them … I’m allowed to say that!”
Crumb draws himself as wounded but also awakened. “Oh, I see … ulp.” Crumb dedicated his masterwork, “The Book of Genesis,” a searing illustrated narrative of the Bible’s first book, to Aline.
The Crumbs’ collaborative work was celebrated among aficionados, but it wasn’t until 1994’s “Crumb,” a documentary directed by Crumb’s close Jewish friend, Terry Zwigoff, that she emerged into the broader culture. A vibrant, peripatetic Kominsky-Crumb cares for their daughter, Sophie, and revels in their life in a small French village, where they had moved a few years earlier, while Crumb continues to hold back, playing the wounded, misunderstood artist.
It was an arrival of sorts for Kominsky-Crumb. She had for a time been marginalized even on the underground scene, her deceptively simple art derided as sloppy. She helped found the Wimmen’s Comix collective in 1972, and wrote about her Jewish upbringing in the first issue, a piece entitled “Goldie: A Neurotic Woman.” But she was soon frozen out because some of her colleagues thought her musings about longing to be dominated (and her tendency to dress that way to please Crumb) were denigrating to women. “The Yoko Ono of Comics,” is how the New York Times described her early years.
She left the collective and joined another Jewish woman artist, Diane Noomin, in launching “Twisted Sisters” in 1976. Its cover depicts hers seated on a toilet wondering “How many calories in a cheese enchilada.” The message to her erstwhile colleagues, who depicted women heroically, was clear: Kominsky-Crumb would indulge her full unvarnished self.
It would take decades, but a later generation of feminists would come to understand her autobiographical “Bunch” not as a self-loathing caricature but as a means of understanding ones whole self. In 2020, Lightman launched an interview with Kominsky-Crumb by reviewing a 1975 cartoon, “Bunch plays with herself” that shocked even the underground scene at the time with its graphic depictions of a woman exploring every corner of her body.
“I didn’t do it to be disgusting but it’s, like, about every horrible and fun thing you can do with your body,” Kominsky-Crumb told Lightman. “I think it’s an amazing piece of feminist art,” Lightman said in the interview, “because women are drawn to be gazed at, and [here we see] their bodily juices, and everything. … The last panel is the best. ‘My body is an endless source of entertainment’.”
In 2007, she and Crumb created a cover for the Jewish counterculture magazine Heeb, where she is cradling him in her arms. “”I feel so safe in the arms of this powerful Jewish woman!” Crumb says.
By 2018, she was scrolling through her phone to show a New York Times reporter pictures of Crumb cavorting with the grandkids. (Daughter Sophie in adulthood also is a comics artist.) The photos then transition to photos of women’s behinds, taken in Miami.
“I’m enabling his big butt fixation,” she said. “Well I don’t have a big butt anymore so I have to offer him something.”
“It was her energy that transformed the American Crumb family into a Southern French one, with her daughter Sophie living, marrying and having three French children there,” the official Crumb website said in announcing her death. “She will be dearly missed within that family, by the international cartooning community, but especially by Robert, who shared the last 50 years of his life with her.”
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The post Aline Kominsky-Crumb, who transformed comics first as a muse and then as a feminist artist, dies at 74 appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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Why Mamdani remains focused on Israel as NYC mayor
When Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu spoke at the UN this week, New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani was there — not in body, but in spirit, having condemned the Israeli prime minister and previously encouraged protests against him.
As a leader in the Jewish community, I know that many American Jews oppose Netanyahu’s government. But many also believe strongly that Israel’s survival as a Jewish homeland is critically important. They, therefore, feel boxed in by the mayor: compelled by conscience to oppose Israel’s leader and to condemn Mamdani’s repeated attacks on Israel’s existence, many of which they find offensive and dangerous.
Because of my previous work for Mayor Bloomberg, I am often asked by Jewish community members why this mayor so frequently puts them in this painful bind. The answer, I believe, lies in motivations worth understanding more clearly.
Of course, Mamdani’s focus on Israel seems partially motivated by principle. He clearly thinks Israel is illegitimate and opposes how it defends itself. I take him at his word that these convictions are sincere. But sincerity still does not explain his single-mindedness. A mayor willing to absorb this much political friction must see some benefit. But what?
To understand, let’s reexamine the 2025 election, often described as a “political tsunami.” The facts, however, are more complicated. Mamdani did defeat his closest opponent by nearly 10%, but in so doing he secured under 51% of the total vote – against a flawed and divided opposition. Viewed this way, his impressive margin seems less sweeping and much narrower.
More important than his electoral margin, though, is the coalition that produced it. His victory rested heavily on three blocs: self-identified very liberal voters; and Muslim and South Asian voters, who turned out in historic numbers. South Asian and Indo-Caribbean turnout, for example, rose 350% between 2021 and 2025, with 87% of South Asian votes going to Mamdani. Analyzing available data, I believe that, taken together, these three blocs accounted for well over 50% of all Mamdani votes.
What makes this coalition intriguing is that it consists of such strange bedfellows. The blocs differ sharply on many key local issues. On same-sex marriage, PRRI’s American Values Atlas found 33% support among Muslim-Americans in 2024, with support among very liberal Americans substantially higher. The divergence is similarly stark on policing, education, and many other policies.
In fact, it is hard to identify many things uniting these blocs besides this candidate: a skilled politician speaking the language of the left, while activating Muslim and South Asian voters just as Mayors Bloomberg and Koch activated Jewish voters and Mayors Adams and Dinkins activated Black voters.
Which brings us back to Israel.
When one barely ekes out a majority against flawed opponents, and one’s coalition is fundamentally misaligned, one must find ways to hold it together. To this end, Mamdani seems to be taking a page from Donald Trump. When Trump’s coalition buckles, he reaches for a “shiny distraction” — attacks on the press; trade wars; threatened invasions of Greenland. For Trump, the specifics are almost irrelevant; what matters is the theater of conflict and the distraction it produces.
For Mamdani, his Greenland is Israel.
Yes, it is a subject on which he holds sincere convictions. But, more importantly, it is one of few issues on which his coalition agrees. His relentless focus on Israel — to the exclusion of other worthy targets, including grave human rights offenders across South Asia and the Muslim world — is no accident. It is a political calculation allowing him to don the mantle of moral crusader while keeping his coalition on-side and united.
For those who believe Mamdani’s politics pose a danger to the Jewish community and want to slow his political momentum, this analysis yields two insights.
First, trying to persuade the mayor to soften his Israel attacks is unlikely to succeed. Doing so is not his inclination or in his political interests.
Second, and maybe more interestingly, Mamdani has a vulnerability that he seems to recognize – a fragile coalition. Allowing Mamdani to
make Israel his “shiny distraction” and engaging him on it plays his game. A different approach would be to defend Israel as-needed, but focusing efforts on pressing Mamdani to do his job – for example, elevating important issues, such as specialized high school admissions practices, on which his coalition happens to be divided.
The upshot? When smart politicians do things that seem politically risky, they usually see something others do not. Mamdani’s Israel focus offers a case-in-point. Those looking to respond should consider resisting the temptation to take the bait when possible. The wiser strategy is to engage under different rules: defending Israel when necessary, then pivoting to the difficult local issues from which Israel is meant to distract.
The post Why Mamdani remains focused on Israel as NYC mayor appeared first on The Forward.
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New voices in Yiddish: A prose and poetry contest
לכּבֿוד דעם 85סטן יאָר זינט מע האָט פֿאַרלייגט דעם ייִדישן זשורנאַל „אױפֿן שװעל“, וועט די אָרגאַניזאַציע וואָס שטיצט דעם זשורנאַל, די „ייִדיש־ליגע“, דורכפֿירן אַ קאָנקורס פֿון נײַע ייִדיש־שפּראַכיקע לידער און פּראָזע.
אַ זשורי פֿון אָפּגעקליבענע מומחים וועט אָפּשאַצן די אַרבעטן, און די דרײַ בעסטע פֿון ביידע קאַטעגאָריעס וועלן באַלוינט ווערן מיט געלטפּרעמיעס.
די פּראָזע־שאַפֿונגען קענען זײַן ביז 2,500 װערטער, און אַלע אַרײַנגעשיקטע מאַטעריאַלן מוזן זײַן נאָך נישט קיין געדרוקטע. דער טערמין אַרײַנצושיקן די שריפֿטן איז דער 31סטער אָקטאָבער 2026.
די געווינער-ווערק, און בכלל אַן אָפּקלײַב פֿון די אַרײַנגעשיקטע שאַפֿונגען, וועט מען אויך דרוקן אין דעם יובֿל-נומער. „זאָלן אונדזערע לייענערס געניסן פֿון נײַע ליטעראַרישע שאַפֿונגען אויף מאַמע-לשון!“ האָט די שעף־רעדאַקטאָרין פֿון „אויפֿן שוועל“, מרים טרין, געזאָגט.
די שריפֿטן שיקן מען דורך בליצפּאָסט צו info@leagueforyiddish.org.
The post New voices in Yiddish: A prose and poetry contest appeared first on The Forward.
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Jewish languages meet in Birobidzhan
אויף אַן אינטערנאַציאָנאַלן ייִדישן קולטור־פֿעסטיוואַל לעצטנס אין ביראָבידזשאַן האָט מיך, ווי אַ ייִדישיסט, באַזונדערס פֿאַרחידושט די אינערלעכע ייִדישע פֿיל־שפּראַכיקייט.
דער „אינטערנאַציאָנאַלער פֿעסטיוואַל פֿון ייִדישער קולטור און קונסט“ איז פֿאָרגעקומען פֿונעם 6טן ביזן 9טן סעפּטעמבער.
מיט איינעם פֿון די געסט, הרבֿ עובֿדיה איסאַקאָוו, האָב איך לאַנג געשמועסט וועגן זײַן אייגענער ייִדישער שפּראַך — דזשוהורי, אַ שפּראַך ענלעך אויף פּערסיש. מיט אַנדערע געסט, דרײַ טוניסער ייִדן, וואָס וווינען אין ישׂראל, האָבן מיר גערעדט וועגן זייער מאַמע־לשון, אַ ייִדישן מין אַראַביש. דערצו האָט אַ זינגער און כּלל־טוער, אליעזר (איגאָר) דאַבאַקאַראָו, מיר געזאָגט אַז ער איז אויפֿגעוואַקסן אין סאַמאַרקאַנד, אוזבעקיסטאַן, רעדנדיק אויף בוכאָרי — פּערסיש מיט אַ ייִדישן טעם.
אויף עטלעכע אונטערנעמונגען האָט מען אויך געזונגען לידער אויף העברעיִש. בעת דער שבתדיקער סעודה (כ׳בין אָנגעקומען מיט עטלעכע אַנדערע געסט פֿון פֿריִער, ערבֿ־שבת) האָבן מיר אַרומגערעדט די קשיא, צי איז לשון־קודש אָדער דער מאָדערנער העברעיִש באמת אַ ייִדישע שפּראַך? דער ביראָבידזשאַנער הויפּט־רבֿ אפֿרים קאָלפּאַק, אַ ליובאַוויטשער חסיד, האַלט, אַז נישט. לשון־קודש איז, לויט אים, די געטלעכע שפּראַך, דורך וועלכן דער רבונו־של־עולם האָט באַשאַפֿן די וועלט איידער דער ערשטער ייִד, אַבֿרהם אָבֿינו, איז געבוירן געוואָרן. אַזוי איז די מעשׂה לויט דער ייִדישער מסורה.
די עכטע ייִדישע שפּראַך, אויף וועלכער ייִדן האָבן גערעדט טאָג און נאַכט במשך פֿון דור צו דור, די שפּראַך פֿון די גרעסטע צדיקים און קדושים, איז דווקא ייִדיש. איך בין מסכּים דערמיט, נאָר, פֿאַרשטייט זיך, אַ סך מענטשן האַלטן אַנדערש.
דער ערשטער פֿעסטיוואַל פֿון דעם מין איז אָרגאַניזירט געוואָרן נאָך אין דער סאָוועטישער תּקופֿה, אין 1989; דערנאָך, מיט איבעררײַסן — יעדע צוויי יאָר. דער 13טער אינטערנאַציאָנאַלער פֿעסטיוואַל פֿון ייִדישער קולטור און קונסט איז פֿאָרגעקומען אין 2017. זינט דעמאָלט און ביז איצט האָט מען אים, צוליב פֿאַרשיידענע שוועריקייטן, נישט געקאָנט אָרגאַניזירן.
להיפּוך, האָט די איצטיקע אונטערנעמונג געשטעלט דעם טראָפּ אויף ייִדן אַרום דער וועלט בכלל, אויף פֿאַרשיידענע ייִדישע עדות, לאַוו־דווקא ייִדיש־רעדנדיקע אַשכּנזים. די אויסלענדישע געסט זענען געקומען פֿון ווײַסרוסלאַנד, מדינת־ישׂראל און כינע. ווי געזאָגט, זענען דרײַ פֿון די ישׂראלדיקע באַטייליקטע געבוירן געוואָרן אין טוניס. דערפֿאַר קאָן מען זאָגן, אַז צפֿון־אַפֿריקע איז אויך געווען פֿאָרגעשטעלט.
בסך־הכּל האָט מען דורכגעפֿירט 160 אונטערנעמונגען, על־פּי רובֿ גאַנץ קליינע, און עטלעכע גרויס־מאַסשטאַביקע. צוליב דעם גוטן וואַרעמען וועטער, איז דער אומזיסטער שלוס־קאָנצערט, וווּ ס׳איז אַרויסגעטראָטן דער באַקאַנטער מאָסקווער כאָר בראָש מיט מיכאַיִל טורעצקי, פֿאָרגעקומען אין דרויסן, אויף אַ פּלאַץ לעבן דעם ברעג פֿונעם טײַך ביראַ.
אומגעוויינטלעך איז געווען דאָס פֿאַרזוכן די גרעסטע חלה אין דער וועלט — איבער 12 מעטער (40 פֿוס) די לענג — וואָס די אָרטיקע קולינאַרן האָבן קונציק אויסגעבאַקן אונטער דער השגחה פֿון הרבֿ קאָלפּאַק. צווישן קליינע און פּשוטע אונטערנעמונגען איז געווען אַ וואַרשטאַט ווי צו שרײַבן די ייִדישע אותיות. די הויפּט־רעדאַקטאָרין פֿון „ביראָבידזשאַנער שטערן‟, יעלענע סאַראַשעווסקאַיאַ, האָט מיך געבעטן איר מיטצוהעלפֿן. זי האָט צוגעטראַכט אַ ספּעציעלן פּלאַסטיק־טראַפֿאַרעט (שטענצל־אותיות) מיטן ייִדיש אַלף־בית, טאַקע לויט די ייִוואָ־תּקנות: מיט אַ קמף אונטערן אַלף, צוויי יודן מיט אַ פּתח אאַז״וו), וואָס דערמעגלעכט אָפּצוצייכענען יעדן אות אויף אַ גרינגן אופֿן. זענען מיר געזעסן אין דרויסן מיט אַ טישל און געוויזן יעדן נײַגעריקן פֿאַרבײַגייער, ווי אַזוי עס שרײַבן זיך אויף ייִדיש זייערע נעמען צי אַנדערע פֿראַזעס.
די אַטמאָספֿער איז געווען אַ לוסטיקע און אומפֿאָרמעלע. עטלעכע געסט האָט פֿאַרחידושט די אַלטע סאָוועטישע אַוואַנגאַרד־אַרכיטעקטור, וועלכער ס׳איז טאַקע געווידמעט אַ נײַ בוך, וואָס מע האָט אויך פּרעזענטירט אויפֿן פֿעסטיוואַל. אין דער זעלבער צײַט, איז אין דער שטאָט פֿאָרגעקומען אַ באַשיידענע פּאַראַלעלע אונטערנעמונג: דער פֿעסיטיוואַל פֿון ייִדישע באָבעס — מיט אויסשטעלונגען, פֿאַרמעסטן, קאָנצערטן, אַ יריד פֿון היימגעמאַכטע קליידער און אַנדערע חפֿצים.
וואָס שייך דער שפּראַך בוכאָרי, באַטראַכטן אַ סך בוכאַרישע ייִדן אין קווינס דאָס לשון ווי אַ באַזונדערע שפּראַך. במשך פֿון אַ סך יאָרן האָט מיטן פֿאָרווערטס מיטגעאַרבעט דער בוכאַרישער פֿאָטאָגראַף אַרקאַדי יאַגודאַיעוו, מיט וועלכן איך פֿלעג שמועסן וועגן זײַן מאַמע־לשון. בעצם איז זי סתּם פּערסיש, אָבער מיט אַ צאָל ספּעציפֿיש ייִדישע עלעמענטן.
אַן אַנדער מעשׂה איז דזשוהורי — די שפּראַך פֿון די קאַווקאַזישע באַרג־ייִדן, וואָס האָט אַן אָפֿיציעלן סטאַטוס אין דאַגעסטאַן, איינער פֿון די רוסלענדישע דרומדיקער ראַיאָנען. אָפֿיציעל הייסט ער טאַטיש, ווײַל לויט דער סאָוועטישער טערמינאָלאָגיע איז ער ענלעך אויפֿן מוסולמענישן לשון טאַטיש. דער חילוק צווישן דזשוהורי (וואָס מיינט „ייִדיש‟) און טאַטיש איז אָבער ממשותדיק, הגם נישט אַזוי גרויס, ווי צווישן ייִדיש און דײַטשיש. דאָס איז טאַקע אַ באַזונדער לשון מיט אַן אייגענער ליטעראַטור.
אין דער שטאָט דערבענט, פֿון וואַנען עס איז אָנגעקומען קיין ביראָבידזשאַן הרבֿ עובֿדיה איסאַקאָוו, גייט אַרויס די צוויי־שפּראַכיקע דזשהורי־רוסישע צײַטונג „וואַטאַן‟ („היימלאַנד‟). איסאַקאַוו איז אויך אַ שוחט, אַ מוהל און אַ באַגאַבטער מאָלער. אַן אויסשטעלונג פֿון זײַנע ווערק איז געווען א טייל פֿונעם פֿעסיטיוואַל. נאָך איין קאַווקאַזישער ייִד, אַלבערט ראַפֿיִעוו, האָט פֿאָרגעשטעלט זײַנע פּרעכטיקע מיזרחדיקע טעפּעכער מיט אַ ייִדישן טעם.
די אינערלעכע ייִדישע פֿאַרשיידנאַרטיקייט איז געווען, לויט מײַן מיינונג, דער וויכטיקסטער מאָמענט פֿון דער אונטערנעמונג. עטלעכע זאַכן וואָס ס׳איז כּדאַי צו דערמאָנען איז, אַז אין רוסלאַנד זענען פֿאַראַן צוויי אָפֿיציעל אָנערקענטע ייִדישע לשונות — ייִדיש און באַרג־ייִדיש (דזשוהורי); אַז אַ סך ספֿרדים רעדן נאָך אַלץ אויף לאַדינאָ אָדער ייִדיש־אַראַבישע דיאַלעקטן, און אַז בײַ די בוכאַרישע ייִדן איז פֿאַראַן אויך אַן אייגענער דיאַלעקט און אַ באַזונדערע קולטור.
בקיצור, ייִדן שטעלן מיט זיך פֿאָר נישט עפּעס אַ מאָנאָטאָנע מאַסע, נאָר אַ בונטן „מערבֿ־מיזרחדיקן‟ טעפּעך פֿון פֿאַרשיידענע עדות מיט זייערע אוניקאַלע לשונות און טראַדיציעס.
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