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Commemorating Philip Roth means confronting his limitations head on
(JTA) — Next Sunday marks the 90th anniversary of Philip Roth’s birth. In celebration of the famed novelist’s work, a scholarly conference titled “Roth@90,” sponsored by the Philip Roth Society, will be held starting Wednesday at the Newark Public Library. That will be followed by a weekend of high-profile events — staged readings, panel discussions, a bus tour of Roth’s old Newark neighborhood — co-presented by the library and the New Jersey Performing Arts Center.
Exactly 10 years ago, we commemorated his 80th birthday in a similar fashion. Dozens of Roth scholars made learned presentations about his work, of which Roth attended exactly zero. Later that week, the author read aloud from his novel “Sabbath’s Theater” in front of hundreds of fans, friends and well wishers. The proceedings were televised on C-Span.
Roth was being acclaimed for having just wound down an exemplary career. With the exception of the Nobel Prize, what garland evaded him? Was there a high-culture literary platform where his name wasn’t a virtual watermark? Could he publish any novel without hundreds of reviews being written in newspapers across the world? Was there a serious fiction writer out there with greater renown?
So much has changed in the decade between the two conferences. To begin with, Roth died in 2018. In that same span, the country witnessed the election of Donald Trump and the fissure it exposed in society in general and the Jewish community in particular. America endured one convulsive racial reckoning after another. Finally, in October of 2017, the #MeToo movement gained massive public salience.
All of those events, along with digital media’s indomitable ascent, have combined to affect and reshape Roth’s literary legacy. That legacy is far less assured than all the (justified) praise and lionizing that will occur this week might suggest.
Let’s start with Jews. The Trump era yielded two seemingly irreconcilable data points. On the one hand, Jewish-Americans endured the Charlottesville riot, the Tree of Life synagogue attack and a stunning rise in antisemitic incidents. On the other, there was staunch support for Trump among Orthodox Jews and supporters of Israel’s right wing.
Leaving that conundrum for others to parse, I simply note that Orthodox Jews and right-wing Zionists are almost completely absent in Roth’s fiction. A young Roth wrote a sensitive portrait of Holocaust survivors who want to start a suburban yeshiva in “Eli the Fanatic.” He also sketched a militant religious-nationalist Zionist in “The Counterlife,” Mordecai Lippman, who, according to Roth biographer Blake Bailey (about whom more below), was based on Elyakim Haetzni, one of the so-called founding fathers of the settlement movement. In the same novel, a version of the narrator’s brother falls under the settlement leader’s sway.
And that’s it, across a half century of writing. For traditionalist Jewish readers, whose political and social influence in the United States and Israel is substantial and growing, Roth’s fiction is not a mirror, nor a signpost, nor a scroll upon which is inscribed some essential truth.
The Jews who populated his stories, the Jews he best understood, were of Ashkenazi descent, white, liberal, assimilated and secular. His courage was to valorize them over and against other Jews who viewed them as defective, lost or even as apostates. Thus Anne Frank in “The Ghost Writer” was portrayed as a patron saint of secular Judaism. Elsewhere, his stories abound in proud, professionally accomplished diaspora Jews. They rarely think about God. Synagogue attendance is reserved strictly for lifecycle events and High Holy Days, if that.
A novelist, of course, is not a political clairvoyant. However, the immediate future of Judaism is being greatly shaped by Jews whose population and influence are growing and whom Roth rarely portrayed. In this manner, another stellar writer like Cynthia Ozick — herself Orthodox and quite attuned to the mindset of her co-religionists — might fare better commercially and emerge as more relevant than her friend in the coming decades.
Roth didn’t just write about Jews. In my book “The Philip Roth We Don’t Know: Sex, Race and Autobiography,” I pointed out that depicting non-Jewish Black people was an unrecognized “obsessional theme” across his 28 novels and 25 short stories. Much to my dismay, I found Roth’s multi-decade treatment of his African and African-American characters often to be crude, thoughtless and sometimes racist.
Familiarize yourself with the degrading portraiture we receive of Black people in “The Great American Novel” (1973), or a short story like “On the Air” (1970), and you might reconsider what Roth was after in “The Human Stain,” in which an academic who is accused of racism turns out to be an African American who had been “passing” as white and Jewish. The book, the 2001 Pen/Faulkner Award winner, is often seen as a sensitive treatment of racial issues in America, and perhaps as the author’s attempt to extend the hand of friendship to another oppressed minority.
In fact, my best guess is that, as with many Jewish writers post-1967, Roth was shaken by the deterioration of the Black-Jewish alliance. His frustrations were reflected in prose that often referenced Black communities in his hometown of Newark but showed little curiosity about their lives or sympathy for their plight.
Obviously, this type of literary rendering of African Americans — or any minority group — is disturbing and dated. Insensitive racial representation inspires calls for publishers to drop authors. They disappear from high-school or college syllabi. This bodes ominously for the afterlives of the titans of post-World War II American fiction, including John Updike, Saul Bellow Bellow and Norman Mailer, all three of whom have been accused of being racially insensitive and worse.
Roth’s marketability also seems to be sailing into a squall regarding gender. As women began demanding an accounting of sexual abuse and misogyny within the media, entertainment and other industries, numerous think-pieces wondered how the author of “Portnoy’s Complaint” — whose libidinous narrator identifies most of the women in his life by debasing nicknames — would fare in such an environment. Would he — should he — be “canceled”?
The question is more complex than his admirers and detractors make it out to be. No doubt, many of Roth’s male characters mistreated women. Accusations of Roth himself doing the same exist, but they are fairly rare, unsubstantiated and contested. The dilemma for researchers is that Roth was a deeply auto-fictional writer. You sense his presence in his stories — especially when protagonists share much of his biography, including Nathan Zuckerman and Peter Tarnopol, and when characters are named “Philip Roth.”
It’s hard not to speculate about the relation between the author and the many misogynistic fellows who cut an erotic swath through his pages. There will, of course, be readers who give him the benefit of the doubt. They might observe that Roth’s toxic males provide evidence of women’s experiences that needs to be explored, not censored.
Not helping him cleanse his reputation were the numerous allegations of sexual misconduct leveled against his hand-picked biographer, Blake Bailey. The ructions engulfing Bailey came to dominate the discourse about Roth, leading to a peculiar cancellation by proxy.
The episode also revealed that Roth had instructed his estate to eventually destroy a massive trove of personal papers he entrusted to Bailey. This led Aimee Pozorski (co-editor of Philip Roth Studies), myself and 20 other Roth scholars to issue a statement reminding his executors that “scholarship can only be advanced when qualified researchers engage freely with essential sources.”
As if all these concerns weren’t enough, his grim prophecies about the demise of an audience for serious literature seem to be coming true. “The book,” Roth worried, “can’t compete with the screen.” Meanwhile, the English major is in a very bad way, and the institution of tenure is under siege. Professors (insufferable as we might be) teach the next generation who to read and how to read. Writers might not like them, but they need them.
Roth is also getting the scrutiny that he was at pains to avoid in his lifetime. His disregard for scholars who might be critical of him always struck me, one such scholar, as misguided. Instead, he surrounded himself with friends — friends who had preternatural access to major media platforms. These friends built upon his own interpretations of his own work. It doesn’t mean they lacked wisdom. It just means that when they talked about Roth, they talked about what Roth wanted them to talk about. To wit: Jewish Newark, his sundry interpretations of his life, his pesky ex-wives and lovers, the close-mindedness of his critics, and so forth.
I think, in this cultural moment, it’s prudent to confront Roth’s limitations head on and chart one’s own path through his fiction. I pitch him to my students as a writer with some racial, religious and sexual hang-ups — who among us is innocent of those charges? I also present him as a bearer of unique and meaningful insights. Let scholars (while they still exist) parade those insights into sunlight.
I’ve tried to illuminate that his fiction was preoccupied, for 50 years, by how individual and collective bodies (like the Jews) change. Transformation, metamorphosis, metempsychosis — his obsession with those themes, I’ve noticed in my classrooms, is shared by Gen Z. If the span between Roth@80 and Roth@90 has taught us anything, it is that Roth was right: Life is about radical, unpredictable flux. Now his own legacy is in flux. I wonder who will read Roth@100.
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Why is the biggest soccer team in the world talking about Joseph Goebbels?
The biggest rivalry in international soccer — between Real Madrid and FC Barcelona — has erupted in recent months, as Madrid pushes the Spanish soccer federation to punish Barca for alleged referee bribery.
But the ugly sparring between the clubs took an unexpected turn last week when Spanish league president Javier Tebas entered the fray with a shocking comparison.
“Real Madrid’s management directs an orchestra of mouthpieces and Real Madrid TV leads the singing,” Tebas wrote Oct. 15 on X. “Their score is always the same: select the plays that suit them, repeat the grievance, feed the suspicion, and point fingers at the enemies.
“That method recalls propaganda mechanisms exploited by Goebbels, Nazi Germany’s minister of propaganda: systematic repetition, construction of an enemy, and subordination of facts to the narrative.”
Real Madrid, which has employed such stars as Cristiano Ronaldo and David Beckham, condemned the remark with a statement calling for Tebas’ resignation both from the Spanish league, La Liga, and the Royal Spanish Football Federation, where Tebas serves as vice president.
“Real Madrid C. F. considers it absolutely intolerable and extraordinarily serious that someone holding two positions of utmost responsibility in Spanish football resorts to a comparison with the propaganda methods of the Nazi regime to discredit our club, its management, and its television,” the club wrote Oct. 16.Tebas has thus far refused to resign or even take down the post, and has defended his critique by pointing to other Spanish leaders who have made similar comparisons in the past.
The Goebbels controversy comes amid growing concerns about antisemitism in Spain, including in sports, where thousands of protesters blocked an Israeli-branded cycling team from competing in the Vuelta race last year.
The bribery accusations against Barcelona first surfaced in 2023, when it was revealed the club had paid millions of dollars to companies linked to the former vice president of the Spanish refereeing body, José María Enríquez Negreira. A Spanish court dismissed the bribery charges in 2024, but the investigation continued, and earlier this month Madrid submitted a tranche of documents it said proved the bribery claims.
The conflict between the club and Tebas dates back at least to 2021, when Madrid club president Florentino Perez spearheaded a breakaway international league that would have threatened Spanish competition. Barcelona had also agreed to join the so-called Super League, but the plan was scuttled after enormous backlash from fans across the continent.
Joseph Goebbels, one of Hitler’s most devoted followers, led the German Propaganda Ministry after the Nazi party came to power in 1933. He and his wife died by suicide in 1945 after killing their six children with cyanide.
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Israel’s election may hinge on whether Netanyahu’s opposition will accept Arab support
Israel’s approaching election is developing into an extraordinary paradox: Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, whose government presided over the catastrophe of Oct. 7 and whose record since has been a succession of security failures, assaults on democracy, capitulations to Haredi interests and international embarrassments, may yet survive politically because his opponents cannot bring themselves to accept the parliamentary support of Israel’s Arab citizens.
The polls have tightened, the opposition has conducted a strangely timid campaign, and U.S. President Donald Trump’s endorsement of Netanyahu over the weekend introduces an unpredictable element into a contest that should by any reasonable accounting be a referendum on utter failure. Yet given the picture emerging in the polls, the decisive question is whether the opposition’s leaders possess the courage to reach out to the one-fifth of Israelis who are Arabs – who are expected to vote in very high numbers on Oct. 27.
Since 1973, Israel’s classic center-left has never secured an election-day parliamentary majority without the seats of Arab parties. Yitzhak Rabin’s victory in 1992, for example, depended on a parliamentary balance that included Arab representatives, whose support later became essential to his government’s survival. By most credible polls, that is the picture that emerges now, and with that support, the opposition could become a comfortable majority of close to 70 of the 120 Knesset seats.
But things are not so simple. In 2020, most of the Joint Arab List – an alliance of Arab parties in Israel – recommended opposition leader Benny Gantz for prime minister, producing a numerical majority that collapsed because several opposition lawmakers simply could not stomach the prospect. But the Naftali Bennett-Yair Lapid government that removed Netanyahu in 2021 included the Arab party Ra’am, demonstrating that cooperation across this divide was possible even among politicians with profound disagreements about national identity and the question of a Palestinian state.
Throughout these episodes, the challenge was the elementary democratic principle that the votes of Arab citizens should carry precisely the same weight as those of Jewish citizens. And yet there are complications with these political alliances: the Arab parties are not “Zionist” – and more relevantly, they have real difficulty in a situation that involves conflict with the Palestinians, who are their non-citizen brothers and sisters.
Netanyahu has spent years exploiting the discomfort of his opponents with this reality, transforming the prospect of Arab political influence into a weapon against anyone seeking to replace him. During this election, his campaign has placed particular pressure on Gadi Eisenkot, the former IDF chief of staff, portraying any government of his, if it’s dependent on Arab parties, as compromised from the outset.
Eisenkot, Naftali Bennett and other opposition leaders are trying to win over former right wing voters who may have tired of Netanyahu’s endless scandals and failures – but those voters also have serious reservations about the Arab parties. So their prevarications are not hard to understand.
There is, of course, a double standard: Netanyahu routinely counts on the ultra-Orthodox parties, whose demands for military exemptions, public subsidies and educational autonomy have profound consequences for Israel’s security, economic resilience and civic solidarity. Their representatives are treated as legitimate negotiating partners whose seats belong automatically in the right-wing bloc, even when, indeed, they call themselves non-Zionist.
Arab political leaders are now offering the opposition passive support in parliament for free, meaning they do not even demand a seat at the government table. According to all credible polls, the opposition plus the Arab parties should have a comfortable majority after the Oct. 27 vote.
Mostly Muslim, with Christian communities and the distinct Druze population, these citizens share aspects of the language, culture and historical grievances of the surrounding Arab world while participating in the institutions, economy and daily life of the Jewish state. Two stories convey this complexity.
The first: A wounded Jewish reservist, a new immigrant and Technion engineer, was driving toward a hospital for treatment of a hand injured during service in Lebanon when police stopped him for speeding last year. As the Maariv newspaper’s columnist Ben Caspit reported, the reservist presented documentation of his medical circumstances, yet the officers, who were Jewish, issued a fine and delayed him despite the potential danger to his injured finger, behaving at times with an astonishing lack of consideration.
The case eventually reached a court, where the fine was canceled in a ruling that criticized the enforcement as falling short of reasonable, proportionate and fair administrative discretion. The judge was Rasha Saadi Atamna, an Arab woman whose decision recognized the wounded soldier’s service and circumstances while holding an institution of the Israeli state accountable to its own standards. It was a recognition denied by fellow Jews.
The second: On the morning of Oct. 7, 2023, Youssef Ziadna, a Bedouin minibus driver from Rahat who had dropped off a group of young people at the Nova music festival, showed extraordinary courage.
When Hamas launched its massacre, one of his passengers called desperately for help, and Ziadna drove toward the festival, entering an area where gunmen were murdering civilians and vehicles were fleeing in panic. Near the Gaza border communities, a man running from the slaughter warned him to proceed no further, and moments later gunfire sent Ziadna and others diving into a roadside ditch.
The danger was clear, the route home was available, and every ordinary instinct of self-preservation pointed toward escape. Ziadna instead continued toward the festival, found the people who had summoned him, collected other terrified and wounded Israelis and eventually squeezed roughly 30 passengers into a minibus designed for 14. Drawing on his knowledge of the terrain, he drove across fields and away from the gunmen, with other fleeing Israelis following behind him.
The people Ziadna carried to safety were Jewish Israelis, while his own Bedouin community was suffering murder and abduction in the same assault. Speaking to Israel Radio during Oct. 7 commemorations, he explained his decision in words that deserve to resonate far beyond the immediate story of his heroism: “I could have turned around and did a U-turn, but my conscience wouldn’t let me. I am a human being first. We have to live together in this very fine country of ours.”
The election, of course, will be decided by parliamentary arithmetic rather than inspiring anecdotes, and the stakes extend well beyond the composition of the next coalition.
Consider the government’s continuing failure to confront Jewish terrorism in the West Bank, where extremist settlers have now assaulted an American journalist and European diplomats in successive days. Heidi Levine, a Washington Post photographer whom I have known for decades, was brutally beaten while covering the Palestinian olive harvest, suffering injuries requiring surgery.
The following day, settlers attacked European diplomats and a French mayor near the Christian village of Taybeh. Netanyahu’s response was to question the evidence, emphasize the diplomats’ failure to coordinate with the army and suggest a campaign to smear settlers. Such indulgence of violent extremists disgraces Israel and accelerates its international isolation.
Trump’s endorsement this weekend of Netanyahu may influence some voters, but the fundamental choices belong to Israelis.
Let’s hope they are more thoughtful than to listen to the U.S. president and reelect a leader who would endanger lives by continuing to block an Oct. 7 inquiry, redouble efforts to instill an elected dictatorship, continue to absolve the Haredim of military duty, do nothing to stem the disgrace of Jewish terrorism, and hasten the onset of global economic sanctions upon the Jewish state.
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Bob Dylan is changing his lyrics and his set list; what is he trying to tell us?
Nobel Prize-winning rock poet Bob Dylan once famously wrote, “You don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows” (in his 1965 song “Subterranean Homesick Blues”). That may have formerly been the case, but it didn’t stop Dylan from kicking off his “Lights of Autumn Tour” in Oslo on Saturday, Oct. 17, with a setlist chock full of warnings about floods and extreme weather — a veritable apocalypse of natural disasters. He even rewrote some lines in one of his most famous and beloved songs, “Tangled Up in Blue,” to make the weather a new character in the song.
Playing “Tangled Up in Blue” in concert for the first time since 2018, Dylan revised a few verses. Where he originally sang “I had a job in the great north woods working as a cook for a spell” to kick off the third verse, Dylan instead sang “Way up in the frozen woods, teardrops touch the sky / The leaves are falling one by one, and the moments passing by,” in keeping with the “Lights of Autumn” theme. (It should be noted that Dylan has been rewriting and changing the lyrics to “Tangled” at least since 1984, when he also included the song on his opening concert of a European tour.) “Way up in the frozen woods” may also refer to Dylan’s hometown of Hibbing, Minnesota, which is so far north that you can practically see Canada from there.
On Saturday, Dylan continued to rewrite that third verse with the line “Sometimes I get so tired, sometimes I’m getting away / Lucky you found another, tomorrow’s another day.” In a clever twist, Dylan inserts the new word “lucky” into the number, which recalls the phrase “I can’t help it if I’m lucky” from the song “Idiot Wind,” also found on the 1975 album Blood on the Tracks where “Tangled Up in Blue” originated. “Lucky” also resurfaced as a cryptic moniker for Dylan himself when, in the superstar group the Traveling Wilburys that included George Harrison, Tom Petty, and Roy Orbison — all of whom took new names ending in “Wilbury” — Dylan opted for “Lucky Wilbury.” He can’t help it, indeed!
Dylan kicked off another rewritten verse with the phrase, “Things were gettin’ to cost too much,” leaving one to wonder if this was a pre-midterm election reference to the state of the U.S. economy and therefore an implicit criticism of the MAGA leader and his acolytes. Dylan also revised the music somewhat, slowing the tempo of what was once a mid-tempo rocker to a rubato ballad; he also inserted a minor chord that doesn’t exist in the original.
As noted, Dylan’s 19-song setlist included copious references to weather disasters. “The Man in the Long Black Coast” opens with the line “Crickets are chirpin’, the water is high,” and refers to trees that are “bent over backwards from a hurricane breeze.” The aptly titled “Crash on the Levee (Down in the Flood),” which he performed for the first time in over two decades, includes the lines:
Crash on the levee, mama
Water’s gonna overflow
Swamp’s gonna rise
No boat’s gonna row….
If you go down in the flood
It’s gonna be your own fault…”
Even Dylan’s choice of cover tunes seemed oriented toward the apocalyptic theme. For the first time ever, Dylan sang a Randy Newman song in concert. Keeping with the flood theme, he chose Newman’s “Louisiana 1927,” which recounts one of the worst floods ever to strike the U.S.
What’s happened down here is that the wind have changed
Clouds roll in from the north, and it starts to rain
Rained real hard, it rained for a real long time
Six feet of water in the streets of Evangeline
River rose all day, the river rose all night
Some people got lost in the flood, some people got away all right
Dylan also covered “Share Your Love” — originally recorded by Bobby “Blue” Bland in 1963 but also recorded and performed by Dylan’s former backup group, The Band — which kicks off with the line “Well, it’s an ill wind that blows no good.”
But Dylan didn’t have to go far from his own catalog to rack up mentions of climate insanity. He performed “Tryin’ to Get to Heaven,” which includes the lines “The air is getting hotter, there’s a rumbling in the skies / I’ve been wading through the high muddy water, with the heat rising in my eyes.” In “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere,” Dylan sang, “Clouds so swift, rain won’t lift / Gate won’t close, railings froze / Get your mind off wintertime, you ain’t goin’ nowhere.” And on “I’ve Made Up My Mind to Give Myself to You,” the seasonally appropriate narrator says, “I saw the first fall of snow, I saw the flowers come and go.”
Dylan’s tour continues tonight (Oct. 19) in Gothenburg, Sweden, before making its way through Denmark, Germany, Belgium, Switzerland, Italy, Slovenia, and Austria, and concluding in the UK in November and early December. The forecast for Sweden tonight is clear, but later in the week, the weather report says there’s a chance of a hard rain.
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