Monday, November 9, 2009

Anatomy of a Mockery

"All censure of a man’s self is oblique praise. It is in order to show how much he can spare. It has all the invidiousness of self-praise, and all the reproach of falsehood." - Samuel Johnson, quoted in James Boswell's "The Life of Samuel Johnson"



Last week, I attended a wedding. The bride's family and mine have been close for a long time; needless to say, my sisters and I were invited. Over the years, at Shabbat meals and semahot, I've gotten to know -- or at least recognize -- many of this family's relatives.

In the inter-'od-yishama,' food-getting period, when I and a certain young man were passing each other, we both stopped for what to me was an obligatory hello. He is married to the first cousin of the bride, and he was dressed in a black hat and a long beard; the smile on his face was genuine. I can't remember if he asked me what I did or if I was in school. I know he asked my age, and I told him. Twenty-two. Then, perhaps inevitably...

"Are you looking for a shidduch?"

My response came immediately: "Nooooooo." (If I were writing in pinyin, I'd write "Nó"; I didn't say the word very loudly, but I said it with a distinctly rising tone, beginning with my head down and lifting my chin on the follow-through. Ok, I think I've about overdone this image.)

A few moments pass, as the unexpected, irreverent, obnoxious response registers. I then said, (something like) "I know I'm supposed to say something like 'thank you,' but... [trail off]" And it was over.

Immediately afterward -- hell, even now, as I write this almost a week later -- I was glad, maybe even proud. It's hard to explain the emotion, because it was mostly a hop-up-and-down, yesssssssssss feeling, as if I'd done something so awkwardly magical, so brave, so clever. What a great story this will make! Let me text everyone!

But... alas.

Background time. It's not so much for having grown up in Flatbush that I so hate Flatbush; it's much more for having spent my young adulthood here. So the topic of dating and shidduchim and marriage is one I've long since thought, emoted, upchucked, and spoken (debated?) about. Still, was I making a point? NO! I would be lying to myself (and whoever my audience happens to be) if I claim to have taken some sort of principled stand for all that is moderate and normal and righteous. I wasn't. I lashed out from an insecure place, an aggressive place, a disingenuous place, and mocked this (I'm assuming) well-meaning dude.

Some more background. In the last year.5+, I've lost my religion, so to speak. Or not so to speak... I don't observe Jewish law, and I certainly don't affirm any of the various faith declarations I was educated to affirm. I am an apostate, I suppose. (A nice-sounding word, that. Uh-pah-steyt.) This leaves me in a particularly uncomfortable position in the Orthodox world. The trouble is, this dude had no way of knowing this. I mean, granted, I wore a kippah serugah; so, nu, he's modern, ach veis nisht, i know a mizrachi girl! So here I was, in my Ortho get-up at an Ortho wedding, being asked by an unknowing Ortho guy, effectively, if I'm doing what Ortho guys my age do... but I messed it up. I mocked the idea, the institution; and I mocked this man. Now, I have plenty to say on the idea and the institution, mostly bad. (Sorry.) But that's not where I was coming from.

In turns I've felt like a jerk, a hero, and a harmless nobody -- come on, as if this guy went home and cried about our exchange -- about how I dealt with it. And I ask myself, would it be better -- for me, for the questioner, for the oylam -- if I play the part of the religious-but-not-ready guy? "Thanks so much, but I'm really not looking right now. B'ezrat Hashem, when the time comes..." I'd feel like an ass. Am I, then, honest (and justified) if I mock the question and the institution, etc.?

Other things to say. No more for now. Thoughts?

Pax.

6 comments:

  1. First--taking you pent up frustration with personal issues about religion that have been wrought out and wrung out for who knows how long in that complicated mind of yours out on a guy at a wedding with an assuming and genuine smile who was only looking to do good is not nice. Second--The polite thing would have been simply to say, "No thank you. I'm not looking right now." You would not have been lying nor would you have been dishonest with yourself. Maybe you'll never be looking for a shidduch within the capacity in which myself or some other "super ortho-girl" may do so, but it would be a polite brushoff of an unwanted conversation and would have saved everyone the awkwardness of the encounter. But of course...Ze'ev in all your brilliance your tact could be lacking in certain situations sometimes; here I judge it unintentional, with a healthy retrospective subconscious analysis of intention.
    I can even hear your response to him in my mind as I reminisce about the numerous conversations you and I have shared on the subject during our many outings, be it in out getting-to-know-you-stage in Israel or since then. That tone of voice and facial expression that undoubtedly accompanied that "Noooooo" was not what the mane expected, nor should he have been subject to. There's a time for everything, and a simple victory as you see it over religious pressures and forced circumstances of societal expectations did not belong in that situation. Sorry Ze'ev...However, why would mocking the question and the institution make you honest? It's not as if you don't know your intelletual ruminations on the subject, and can you honestly tell me that this poor man would have had the koach or will to have a full blown religious debate with you in the middle of a simcha that you are both supposed to be enjoying? I don't think so. So how does letting the instance pass you by for the sake of humanity and manners make you dishonest? Also, was your "Nooooo" really a mockery? In what sense of the term?

    -Super Ortho-Girl

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  2. Yeah, I don't think that was appropriate. Just because you're an uh-pah-steyt doesn't mean you have to be discourteous.

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  3. Well, unlike you apparently polite friends I totally get this. IMaybe it's cause we're related but there IS something "awkwardly magical" in bbeing totally uncensored. If being Orthodox (or playing dress up) feels like wearing a corset--ridiculous, restricting, fun for about three minutes and then it saps your breath), then any chance to let the real you "come out," so to speak, is tempting and feels real and amazing. And yeah, is probably rude. But it's not a rudeness to the man per se, but a thumbed-nose to everything that squished you in and made you feel like you couldn't breathe for, idk, eighteen years of your life--it's an expression of freedom, of relief, of joy. Uncensored, because you've stopped censoring yourself.

    Yeah. I TOTALLY GET THIS and wrote a similar post in the happy days when i still updated my blog.

    <3,
    Cuz

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  4. I think Zev's one-word, atypical reaction is being *way* overplayed. Minor moments of awkwardness or impoliteness do not a big deal make.

    The substantive part of the interaction - which Zev highlighted - was its self-revelatory aspect, the "sure, I *knew* I was not a typical Orthodox Jew and that I'm moving away from it, but now I can hear it in my instinctive tone and see it in his reaction and remember this as a tangible symbol of something all too often indefenite and incorporeal and surreal."

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  5. I was at the wedding and although I was at the table sipping my undrinkable mevushal red wine, not actually standing next to my younger brother when this encounter took place, let me give my observation -- sometimes we react with the sharp, raw, emotive "Nooooo" simply b/c we are taken off guard. In this situation Zev was waiting on the crowded buffet line, probably zoning out about whether to take meat or chicken, and the question following the obligatory "hello" took him off guard.
    I agree with what everyone else had to say -- Zev could have politely declined without being dishonest to himself, but yeah when you finally breaking free from a mold is feels damn good to one-up someone, even if you are the only one knows you just one-upped him. But maybe this man was so excited to be at a wedding and "shidduchs" were on his mind, Zev just happened to be one of the subjects prone to this frum man's topic of the evening.
    Needless to say, Zev did report this incident to me as soon as he returned to our table. When he recalled the encounter, I chuckled, but then asked wryly -- "Did you mention you have an older sister who is (looking for a "shidduch")... of course my assumptions would be no one for me, as the "liberated traditional" 20-something, but alas, I have learned to always keep an open mind :)

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  6. Truth need not lead to cynicism. You no doubt already recognize this but it is a lesson worth recalling and making part of our lives.

    To wit, truth is that this man likely had simple and unpretentious motivation in asking you about marriage.
    A, the shidduch question is a cultural conversation opener and so very fair game, esp at a wedding. And truth is, Judaism is far from the only cultural community where asking about marriage is common (in China, "Are you married" comes right after "Have your eaten?").
    B, everyone likes a little loving (ie companionship or the like) and so no matter the culture, trying to provide someone with that loving is simply a positive gesture one does to help another.

    It certainly can be annoying that Jewish convention prioritizes wedding and marriage above other values. Perhaps it would be nice if convention was to ask about social action activity.

    B'Kitzur: respecting others can come from recognizing the truth of their behavior, and doesnt have to be surrending to supercilious fakery.

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