Asch’s ‘salvation’

Reviewed by Henry W. Levy

Salvation,” by Sholom Asch, G. P. Putnam’s Sons, New York, 322 pp. $2.50.

Sholom Asch has written a new novel. He has followed the widely heralded, “Three Cities,” with “Salvation,” a panorama painted on not quite so broad a canvas. “Salvation” is distinctly Jewish in conception and interest. It is a definition of faith, a thorough picture of the Judaism of Poland of a hundred years ago. Though it is rich in colorful lore, though its range of characters is varied and its descriptions intense and though its story is moving and vivid, I doubt that “Salvation” will achieve the general acclaim that did “Three Cities.” But that “Salvation” is as sincere and fine a piece of literary art as “Three Cities” is, I feel, quite evident.

The novel traces the life of a Polish Jew. It introduces him in child-bed and it doesn’t leave him until burial. His life is his salvation. Asch names his principal character Jechiel, “the living God.” It is symbolic, for Jechiel achieves fame as the people’s rabbi; not the rabbi’s rabbi.

Jechiel is not the scholar that this older brother is; he never quite masters the dialectics of the Talmud. But he rises to a place of rabbinical pre-eminence because he brings religion down to the level of the people. A man who has suffered, who has worked, his idea of the greatest good is the amount of ease and happiness he can bring to his people.

A MAN SET APART

In the Poland that Sholom Asch writes about in “Salvation,” the rabbi is a man set apart. He is free from all earthly demands. Marriage assures him of what worldly goods he needs. If the dowry doesn’t support him, his wife does. There is no love, no emotional feeling except that for God. Jechiel’s mother dies. His father, whom he had fetched from his studies elsewhere, arrives too late. A neighbor greets them:

“What is a wife after all? She’s nothing in herself. If she leaves good studious sons behind her, things will be alright with her in the next world.”

And the father remembers the words of the rabbi who wouldn’t pray for his ailing wife. The rabbi said he had no pity to give away, since there was a Law.

The individual is revealed as nothing in the Poland of a hundred years ago. The life of the Jew, in fact, is little more; all he has is his religion. The scholars in their secluded cloisters, achieved life in preparation for death and the after-life. The poor, the ignorant had nothing but a blind faith.

It was these people who found happiness in the mysticism of Jechiel. The psalms were closer to them than the Talmud. As happy and jovial Chassidim, they found a religion that suited their needs. And it occurs to me that Sholom Asch holds that religion should mould itself to the needs of its congregants.

A DETAILED STUDY

Aside from its genuinely interesting story, “Salvation” is a detailed study of the Jewish religion. To the knowing it is a glowing supplement; to those barren of Judaism’s background, it is nothing short of a revelation.

Written, without flourishes, in clear, concise fashion, the words ripple in a vein almost poetic. Sholom Asch, aided and abetted by his translators, Willa and Edwin Muir, has told his story simply. He has painted a picture of small town Polish life.

And against this background he has set typical and of-the-flesh characters. A unity of purpose and a smooth narrative hold the various episodes together. In short: Mr. Asch has written a fine novel in the old style. It will inevitably be a pulpit topic within the next few weeks. But that is not enough, it should be read by those who would learn about themselves, three or four generations removed.