Uncategorized
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.”
—
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.
Uncategorized
A farewell to Hampshire College, site of my Yiddish awakening
Zay gezunt Hampshire College. That’s where as an undergrad student worker, I first studied Yiddish at the OG Yiddish Book Center of Amherst, Massachusetts, down the road from the genteel Lord Jeffrey Inn, across the street from uber-sensitive poet lady Emily Dickinson’s alte heym.
In nearby Holyoke, in an old mill turned Yiddish book storage loft, away from the genius of Dickinson’s dybbuk, I earned my way shelving the Book Center’s staggering amounts of the collected works of Sholem Aleichem — most likely purchased as a subscriber premium by turn of the century Forverts readers — and only surpassed by the unspeakable numbers of Yiddish volumes of Guy De Maupassant. I hoisted those onto shelves as well while getting educated about Nico and the Velvet Underground which blared from speakers. Back in the 1980’s that was multitasking.
And dayge nisht, no worries — I got my klezmer awakening there too, via a Walkman and audio cassettes while laboring as a photo history slide librarian for my advisor and favorite professor, filmmaker Abraham Ravett, who is set to retire next month (can you retire if your workplace closes?).
Splayed out across acres of stunning apple orchards that once belonged to the Stiles family, Hampshire College had neither a Hillel chapter nor a Chabad nor any organized sports nor fraternities — but there was a coed sauna, plenty of rolfing on the snow outside said sauna, a successful student run food coop, an acclaimed ultimate frisbee team and a beloved outdoor program that led to my first heron sightings just like in the movie On Golden Pond.
It also had Len Glick, Elvis’ former induction physician who co-taught modern Jewish history, along with his younger historian colleague Aaron Berman, whose office door was anointed with a poster that offered a Marxist view of baseball. It was 1984 and I was hot off seeing Streisand’s film version of Yentl. I’d polished off most of Bashevis’ tomes back home, memorized my Bubby’s photo album of Eastern European Jewry as envisioned in Visniac’s A Vanished World, and collided into Marlene Booth’s documentary about the Yiddishists of Raananah who took up space in an audacious dream of a utopian summer community in Orange County, New York. Tayere Leyener, dear reader, that’s all it took.
I knew my final paper was going to be about women and Yiddish. Well, I recall Len saying, if you want to investigate Bashevis’ inspiration for his Yentl and research women writers and women’s lives in Yiddish, you’re going to have to learn Yiddish; there isn’t much about that available in translation. Why don’t you go over to the Yiddish Book Center, he continued, and talk to them. And just like that, I found myself on the top floor of an old elementary school in Amherst, spending evenings learning Yiddish and my days trying to grasp enough of it to complete my assignment.
I’d love to tell you that just like Yentl, I too spent hours bent over tomes, deep in study, but as previously disclosed, Hampshire had much to distract and much to offer. And besides, I had books to shelve, boxes to unpack and roads to travel, joining the center’s trips to pick up YET MORE Yiddish books. My mazel was that Hampshire hosted the Book Center’s first summer seminars. Once longtime staffer Frieda Howards and I finished inspecting attendees’ dorm rooms, making sure the beds had hospital corners, I was warmly invited to attend lectures.
Hampshire hosted artists and activists like Yippie founder Abbie Hoffman. When Hampshire alum and Yiddish Book Center founder Aron Lansky talked about him, he highlighted all the Yiddish influences in Hoffman’s Steal This Book, as well as the Yiddish-inflected tensions of the Chicago 7 trials. All this came to a head when I met Yiddish lesbian poet, child survivor and hero to Jewish feminists Irena Klepfisz. A Bundist descendant, keeper of the flame, she — vu den — called a hastily gathered group into action. If we wanted Yiddish women’s writing to be translated, we were the translating liberators we were waiting for, so to speak. It was on us.
Tayere leyner/dear reader, I could, like so many Yiddish authors, go on in depth without so much as a break for a comma or a paragraph, such was the depth of my mazel at Hampshire. Ok, a bisl more. There was the weekend trip with Lansky and local poet and Book Center staffer Gene Zeiger to the Newport Folk Festival to hear Joan Baez sing. There was the summer Yiddish genius Naomi Seidman was a fellow at the Book Center — thanks to Seidman, that was my summer of Nico, the Velvet Underground, of reading Ginsberg’s “Howl,” and much much more. That was the summer I interned for the filmmaker Marlene Booth who was making a film about that Yiddish newspaper everyone talked about, the one I recalled picking up for my bubby. I spent time in my cooperative household on campus, bent over an audio transcription machine, typing out interview after interview with Forverts readers, spellbound by their love for it and activism on its behalf as it fell on hard times.
And reader, though Hampshire will likely close for good, you and I now know that if not for Hampshire College, where now upon a nice parcel of that former apple orchard sits the Yiddish Book Center in all its well earned koved, I and many like me, would not spend our days bending over our morgue of Forverts photos, back issues and more, reaching back over time to keep remembering our past and making it available for future generations.
The post A farewell to Hampshire College, site of my Yiddish awakening appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
Moderation cuts leave most extremist, antisemitic content on Instagram unchecked, ADL finds
(JTA) — White supremacist networks, terror group supporters and Nazi merchandise vendors have gone largely unchecked on Instagram amid weakened content moderation by its parent company Meta, according to a new analysis by the Anti-Defamation League.
Instagram failed to remove 93% of hateful and extremist content reported by the ADL’s researchers, a figure the watchdog said demonstrated a “systemic failure” to protect users, according to the report published on Wednesday. The content included accounts and posts linked to white supremacist networks, groups that are designated as foreign terrorist organizations by the U.S. government and vendors selling Nazi merchandise.
The report comes over a year after Meta’s CEO, Mark Zuckerberg, announced that the company would do away with its fact-check program and stop using automation to detect and remove hate speech.
“Instagram is developing into a hub for hate and antisemitism, and our research demonstrates this clearly,” Jonathan Greenblatt, the CEO and national director of the ADL, said in a statement. “Meta’s moderation rollback has created a permissive environment where extremists thrive, bad actors turn Instagram’s own features into amplification tools for hate, and as a result, vulnerable communities suffer.”
While Elon Musk’s decision to permit formerly banned extremist account-holders to return to X has made his platform the most prominent avatar of social media’s abandonment of moderation, Meta has undergone a similar shift more recently. The ADL has sparred with Musk and X in the past as well.
Meta still does not allow “organizations or individuals that proclaim a violent mission or are engaged in violence to have a presence on our platforms,” according to the company’s community standards, which also say the company removes “dehumanizing speech” and “harmful stereotypes.” But it has also scaled back its capacity to enforce the rules.
The changes, which Zuckerberg billed as a “trade-off” between catching hateful content and reducing the number of “innocent people’s posts and accounts that we accidentally take down,” drew criticism from Jewish groups, including the World Jewish Congress and CyberWell.
Of the 253 posts that the ADL’s Center on Extremism reported earlier this year, Instagram removed only 11 accounts and 8 posts, according to the new report, titled “How Meta’s Content Moderation Changes Risk Turning Instagram into a Hub for Hate.” In 20 cases, the watchdog said that Instagram said it lacked the bandwidth to review the reports.
The report also found a number of accounts that were linked or indirectly linked to terrorist groups, including at least 23 accounts that spread Islamic State and Al-Qaida Propaganda, as well as 33 accounts with direct or indirect connections to the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine.
While Meta has maintained a ban on official accounts run by Nick Fuentes, the avowed white supremacist and antisemite at the center of a growing divide in the Republican party, the ADL study found that his content is shared on the platform by 105 Instagram accounts affiliated with Fuentes’ Groyper movement, which combined had over 1.4 million followers as of January 2026.
One Southern California-based merchandising company, Curb Stomp MFG, which sells apparel with Nazi symbols including Sonnenrads, Totenkopfs and SS bolts, and its owner had garnered over 3.2 million views on hateful content posted to Instagram, according to the study.
Oren Segal, the senior vice president for counter-extremism and intelligence for the ADL, said in a statement that the lack of content moderation on the platform amounted to a “public safety crisis,” adding that the company’s “decision to gut content moderation puts Instagram at risk of being a megaphone for the world’s most dangerous antisemites and extremists.”
Releasing the report ahead of a Meta shareholder meeting, the ADL is calling on the company to “reinstate proactive moderation measures against violative content.”
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post Moderation cuts leave most extremist, antisemitic content on Instagram unchecked, ADL finds appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
JD Vance heckled over Middle East policy at conservative event
(JTA) — Vice President JD Vance was interrupted by antiwar hecklers during a Turning Point USA event on Tuesday, underscoring growing backlash over U.S. policy in the Middle East among young Republicans.
“Jesus Christ does not support genocide,” one person shouted out during the event at the University of Georgia. Shortly after, a voice yelled out, “You’re killing children! You’re bombing children!”
“I agree,” Vance responded. “Jesus Christ certainly does not support genocide, whoever yelled that out from the dark.”
But he said the audience should be thankful for the Trump administration’s negotiation of a ceasefire between Israel and Hamas.
“You know who’s the person who got a peace agreement in Gaza? Donald J. Trump,” Vance said. “So if you want to complain about what happened in Gaza, why don’t you complain about Joe Biden and the last administration? We’re the administration that solved that problem.”
Vance also addressed criticism of the Iran war later in his remarks during the evening. “I recognize that young voters do not love the policy we have in the Middle East, OK,” he said, adding, “I understand.”
The incident at Turning Point USA, an influential youth organization in conservative politics that was founded by Charlie Kirk, a conservative activist who was killed last September, comes as the Republican party has faced blowback over the Iran war from top conservative activists, including Tucker Carlson.
Carlson, who has disparaged the joint U.S.-Israeli war with Iran and increasingly spread anti-Israel and antisemitic conspiracy theories on his show, has long maintained a relationship with Vance, whose refusal to rebuke the commentator has drawn scrutiny from Jewish conservative leaders.
While roughly seven in ten Republicans support the war with Iran, favorable views of Israel have declined among young Republicans in recent years, with 57% of Republicans ages 18 to 49 having an unfavorable opinion of Israel, up from 50% last year, according to the Pew Research Center.
Vance has defended the war in public despite reports he privately opposed entering the conflict. He urged the crowd to remain politically engaged despite potential disagreement with the administration.
“I’m not saying you to have to agree with me on every issue,” Vance said. “What I am saying is: Don’t get disengaged because you disagree with the administration on one topic. Get more involved, make your voice heard even more. That is how we ultimately take the country back.”
When asked by an attendee which “influencers” he would recommend young people listen to, Vance pointed to the popular podcaster Theo Von, who last June asked the vice president on his show about the “genocide” in Gaza. During that appearance, Vance rebuffed the idea that Israel was committing genocide.
The Turning Point USA event came shortly after Vance sparred with Pope Leo XIV over the pope’s criticism of the war. He said on Friday that “God does not bless any conflict” and that Christians should never be on the side of those who drop bombs.
Vance, who is Catholic, offered a different view. “Was God on the side of the Americans who liberated France from the Nazis?” he said. “I certainly think the answer is yes.”
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post JD Vance heckled over Middle East policy at conservative event appeared first on The Forward.