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Stars of David
From “The Golem” to Asimov, some of the most important
science fiction has been created by Jews. But more than that, science
fiction owes its gaze to the heavens – the very notion that the
world will become a better place – to the religion of The Chosen
People.
By Jeff Berkwits
When the robotic NASA rovers landed on Mars earlier this year,
one of the key goals of the mission was to search for evidence of water.
While scientists are still speculating on when and why the liquid disappeared
from the surface of the now-barren world, some Jewish writers are already
considering what will happen when water is reintroduced to the Red Planet’s
landscape. Not only that, they’re actively thinking about how Judaism
will have to adapt as humanity begins to consistently voyage through space
and time.
“I have an unpublished novel set on Mars, and one of
the things I had to deal with in writing it were the questions of how
to build a mikvah and deal with the Jewish holidays and time on Mars,”
says Hugo- and Nebula Award-nominated author Michael A. Burstein, a modern
Orthodox writer who frequently incorporates Jewish characters, customs
and traditions in his stories. “My friends and I have this game
we like to play where we toy with science-fiction concepts and Judaism.
For example, let’s say you have a time machine. You turn on your
time machine, go backward or forward in time, and when you come out it’s
a Saturday. Do you have to immediately start observing Shabbat? We like
to play games like that, though we know of course the standard rabbinical
answer to that question would probably be, ‘Don’t do that.’”
Despite such theological admonitions, Burstein is participating
in a revered tradition of distinctly Jewish speculation.
The concept that the human race can improve over time, the idea that people
have a clear-cut mission to better the world and the exploration of humanity’s
relation to the universe are specifically Jewish innovations – as
well as central concerns of science fiction. In many respects the science-fiction
genre as we know it would not exist without the direct influence of Jewish
thought, folklore and writers.
“There is certainly a distinction between explicitly
Jewish themes and themes that are Jewish but not identified as such,”
notes Paul Levinson, author, media theorist and past president of the
Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America. “But I would still
say that there is a Jewish aspect to most science fiction today. Even
if the writer is not Jewish, or even if the writer didn’t intend
what he or she wrote to be Jewish, it’s usually got that sort of
transcendence of the world around you and the wanting to go to a better
world in a rational rather than a magical way.”
From a science-fictional perspective, the most influential
Judaic legend is “The Golem of Prague,” which concerns a rabbi
who creates a creature out of clay to protect the Jewish people. Although
there are different endings to the tale, in the most popular version he
loses control of his monster and must destroy it. The spiritual forbearer
of such well-known fables as “Frankenstein” and familiar characters
like the Terminator and the HAL 9000 computer from “2001: A Space
Odyssey,” the Golem has become a powerful trope embodying both cautionary
and idealistic outlooks – two notions that are invaluable to
successful science-fiction storytelling. For many genre authors, particularly
those steeped in Jewish folklore, the story remains a rich ideological
source.
“For a busy person, what dream technology would be more
desirable than an ability to make cheap, temporary copies of yourself
so you can be in two or more places at once?” asks Encinitas resident
David Brin (see “San Diego’s own Star of David,” p.
33), describing the gist of his recent Hugo Award-nominated novel “Kiln
People.” “I had to come up with a cheap substance to be used
in these ‘home copier machines.’ Clay seemed reasonable: inexpensive,
as well as biblically traditional. One thing led to another, and before
long I realized that all roads led to the Golem. My subconscious must
have been mulling this all along.”
“The Golem of Prague” was one of many religious
legends and precepts that were also surely familiar to Isaac Asimov, the
most famous and significant Jewish writer of science fiction. Although
as an adult he claimed to be an atheist and rarely incorporated overt
religious themes into his stories, Judaism was clearly a profound influence.
Asimov’s first noteworthy short story, “Nightfall” (1941),
explored the uncertain reaction of the populace of a faraway planet to
the first nightfall in thousands of years. In addition to this story addressing
the Jewish concept of humanity’s connection with the universe, Asimov’s
famed “Foundation” series expanded upon the idea of civilization
venturing into and living amidst the stars.
Among the author’s other copious contributions to the
genre were the famed Three Laws of Robotics, which outline a concise code
of conduct for artificial beings. While not specifically Jewish, these
rules, which state in part that a robot must obey a human’s commands
so long as doing so does not harm another living being, obviously mirror
elements of the Ten Commandments (“Thou Shalt Not Kill”).
However, as these directives developed throughout Asimov’s countless
robot and “Foundation” stories, they also became, like so
many fundamental Jewish laws, open to interpretation. As progressive adventures
expanded upon the laws, Asimov, consciously or not, was mimicking the
cycle of rabbinic argument and counterargument that forms the basis of
modern Judaism.
“With respect to the laws of robotics, I don’t
think Asimov himself would have said anything Jewish about them,”
explains Burstein. “But if you look at his much later robotic works,
[some] robots get this idea in their minds – it hasn’t been
programmed into them, so they essentially come up with it themselves –
that there’s a higher, more important law of robotics. Where the
first law says simply that you can’t harm a human being, they determine
that it implies that you must extend that behavior to cover the greater
interest of humanity. That, I think, really carries within it the whole
concept of Tikkun Olam [“repairing the world”], because suddenly
his robots become these caretakers of humanity.… In a way, Asimov’s
ultimate final [robotic] law – to care for humanity – is essentially
the primary concern of Judaism.”
Sadly, it was the antithesis of Tikkun Olam – the Holocaust
– that helped catapult Jewish themes and writers to the forefront
of the genre. Following the end of World War II and the founding of the
state of Israel, numerous Jewish names, including Robert Silverberg, Alfred
Bester, Robert Sheckley, Harlan Ellison and Avram Davidson (an Orthodox
Jew whose second published work was even titled “The Golem”)
began prominently appearing in science-fiction magazines. Most of these
individuals, who rose to prominence during the 1950s and ‘60s, were
born and raised in America. Though not directly affected by Hitler’s
horrors, the need for these authors to metaphorically express revulsion
and remembrance was crucial.
“To any Jew, the Holocaust is a defining event in modern
history, and whether we like it or not it’s personalized,”
says Jack Dann, the New York-born editor of the influential Jewish science-fiction
anthologies “Wandering Stars” – the first significant
collection of Jewish speculative fiction – and its sequel, “More
Wandering Stars.” “I believe those of us who come generations
after the Holocaust must testify or we will forget, which is what’s
happening now. So much of the impetus and the thrust of my work, a portion
of which concerns the Holocaust, is my attempt, in my very small way,
to testify.”
From the late 1940s forward, the Holocaust played a symbolic
role in myriad science-fiction tales. Many science-fiction narratives
utilize victimized individuals or alien races as surrogates for the Jewish
experience during World War II.
“The horror of it can be used by authors as a warning,”
claims Steven H Silver, a respected genre book reviewer and creator of
the “Jewish Science Fiction and Fantasy” Web site (www.sfsite.com/~silverag/jewishsf.html).
“Alien races can stand in for the Jews and vice versa in terms of
the Holocaust or anything else having to do with science fiction.”
“The Holocaust creates a real strong crisis of identity
for Jews,” adds Rabbi Philip Graubart, spiritual leader of Congregation
Beth El of La Jolla and author of the science-fiction novel “Planet
of the Jews.” “Jews were really assimilating into America,
and without the Holocaust they may have assimilated all the way. Then,
all of a sudden, the Holocaust forces this Jewish identity on these people
that really weren’t practicing Jews, or at least weren’t strongly
practicing. But it’s not just simply an identity; it’s an
identity as an outsider, as a victim.”
That sense of “otherness” is also a vital ingredient
in Jewish post-war science fiction. Jews have historically been treated
as outcasts, a theme that is a rich source for escapist ideas. Anecdotally,
authors and fans both suggest that Jews make up a higher percentage of
science-fiction readers and writers than they do within the general literary
population. On the other hand, there’s a close kinship among the
Jewish people, which creates the unique dichotomy of simultaneously being
a societal outsider and, as a member of both the Jewish and science-fiction
“tribes,” an insider. According to Levinson, this is best
expressed in Alfred Bester’s classic 1956 tale “The Stars
My Destination,” which chronicles the adventures of Gully Foyle,
an illiterate, religiously ambiguous spaceman found floating in space
who, despite an initial desire for revenge, ultimately helps humanity.
“If you think about the story of Gully Foyle, you have
this person who is greater than the people around him, but suffers for
his greatness,” he notes, adding that, in his estimation, Bester
ranks just behind Asimov in terms of Jewish influence within the genre.
“He attains his greatness only through the most agonizing experience,
so he’s clearly the quintessential outsider and insider at the same
time.”
In recent decades, as science-fictional ideas have become
increasingly mainstream (see “Live Long and Prosper,” p. 35),
that sweeping sense of otherness felt by fans has begun to fade. Nevertheless,
Jewish culture and thought has undeniably made the genre a richer experience
for readers and writers alike.
“Trapped in shtetls and ghettos, with only very limited
access to power or tools or ability to act, a persecuted people nevertheless
crafted the exceptional notion that a world can be healed,” asserts
Brin. “It can be made better, and the people in it can improve by
their own efforts. Science fiction has been shaped and nurtured by that
frail hope and belief. It grows out of that irony.”
Despite omnipresent oppression and prejudice, Jews and their
culture have existed for centuries, deeply affecting those societies in
which they struggled to survive. But in the science-fiction universe,
the next millennium and beyond seems to bode well for God’s Chosen
People.
“The fact that people write these stories, and that
there are still Jews alive hundreds of thousands of years from now, and
we haven’t all been wiped out by whoever the latest people who want
to come along and wipe us out are, is positive,” says Silver. “We’re
survivors, and Jewish science fiction is about, in many ways, survival
of the religion and survival of the culture. We’re still going to
be there.”
Which, for Jews throughout the cosmos, is the brightest future
of all.
A sci-fi sampler:
Want to sample some Jewish science-fiction stories before
really diving into the genre? Here are a few suggestions:
“The Golem” by Avram Davidson: A humorous
retelling of the classic Golem fable.
Available for free at http://www.scifi.com/scifiction/
classics/classics_archive/davidson3/
“The Great Miracle” by Michael A. Burstein: An updated
version of the Chanukah legend, with a spaceship full of brave warriors
repelling an invading alien force.
Available as a multiformat download for 49¢ at http://www.fictionwise.com/
ebooks/eBook1343.htm
“Kaddish for the Last Survivor” by Michael
A. Burstein: A moving tale of a young woman’s decision to keep the
memories of her grandfather, the last concentration camp survivor, alive.
Available as a multiformat download for 69¢ at http://www.fictionwise.com/
ebooks/eBook563.htm
“Wandering Stars” and “More Wandering
Stars,” edited by Jack Dann: The preeminent anthologies of Jewish
science fiction, featuring short stories by practically every major Jewish
genre writer, including Isaac Asimov, Harlan Ellison, Robert Sheckley,
Robert Silverberg and Avram Davidson, among others.
Available for $16.95 per volume through http://www.jewishlights.com
San Diego's own Star of David
By Jeff Berkwits
Though his words often take readers to faraway stars, Encinitas
resident David Brin got his start writing in a much more down-to-Earth
locale. The son of Herb Brin, the late founder of the San Diego Jewish
Heritage-Press newspaper, the 54-year-old author began writing for the
publication at the age of 10, honing skills that he later found invaluable
as a science-fiction novelist.
“My father inspired a love of language and yes, argument,”
recalls Brin, who has won practically every major genre honor in a career
that has spanned more than two decades. “He was a Californian (though
born and raised in Chicago), so he did not wear his Jewishness as a badge.
But underneath a modern surface was an utterly fearless passion to pursue
justice in all things, and to defend his people.”
That respect for writing and religion has plainly worn off
on his son. Jews occasionally appear in his books, including an Israeli
Sabra in “Heart of the Comet” and a Jewish dolphin (it’s
science fiction, remember?) in his well-regarded “Uplift”
novels. He even admits to now and again sprinkling Yiddish phrases into
the stories. Still, it’s that innate, distinctly Jewish desire for
Tikkun Olam that drives Brin to fashion stories that thoughtfully imagine
a better tomorrow.
“As a third-generation American, I’m pretty relaxed,
and I don’t feel compelled or obliged to wear any creed on my sleeve,”
he says. “So the frequent references that do occur in my work come
from a genuine feeling that the Jewish perspective has a lot to offer
when you’re contemplating the future.”
David Brin will take part in a panel discussion on “Jewish
Influences on the Creative Process” at the Lawrence Family Jewish
Community Center’s event celebrating local authors, titled “Jewish
Creativity – Reflected by the Written Word.”
The event is Sunday, Oct. 10, from 2-5 p.m., at the Garfield
Theatre at the JCC, 4126 Executive Drive, La Jolla. For more, call
(858) 362-1348.
Live long and prosper
By Jeff Berkwits
Although science fiction literature remains a niche market,
since the late 1970s sci-fi films and TV shows have exploded in popularity.
Just as Jews have had a profound impact on the genre’s books, Jewish
culture has also influenced the images shown and words spoken on movie
and television screens.
Myriad scholars and pundits have noted similarities between
“Star Wars” and Jewish folklore, comparing The Dark Side of
The Force to the Yetzer Hara (Judaism’s “evil inclination”)
and R2-D2 and C-3PO to Moses and Aaron. The Moses connection is especially
inventive, with C-3PO (Aaron) serving as translator for R2-D2 (Moses,
who reportedly suffered from a severe speech impediment) as the pair guide
their people out from an evil empire to a peaceful promised land.
A more palpable Jewish connection is evident on the “Star
Trek” TV series. From a thirst for knowledge to the desire to “boldly
go where no man has gone before,” the show in all its incarnations
incorporates many positive Jewish teachings.
“The image of the alien fills our media mythology, exemplifying
both our fears and our hopes,” notes Brin. “Underlying it
all is the lesson taught by that most Jewish of all characters, that archetype
of wisdom, Mr. Spock, who lifts his hand in a rabbinic sign of benediction
and demands (as Moses did) that we respect the stranger. That we value
learning. That we ‘live long and prosper.’ And that we choose
life.”
It’s probably not a coincidence that two of the most
celebrated “Star Trek” episodes, “The City on the Edge
of Forever” and “The Trouble With Tribbles,” were also
written by Jews (Harlan Ellison and David Gerrold, respectively). “The
Trouble With Tribbles,” in which the starship Enterprise is overrun
by lovable fur balls that uncontrollably reproduce, displayed a sense
of Jewish humor, even as “The City on the Edge of Forever,”
wherein Captain Kirk is forced to make an agonizing life-or-death decision
while trying to save the ship’s doctor, dealt with more ominous
issues.
“There’s something about it that’s very
Jewish,” claims Levinson. “That sense of danger or horror
lurking right next to doing something very good. It’s a substitute
for Jewish history, where you have to tread very carefully lest the outside
world will strike out and do something very bad to you.”
The television show “Babylon 5” also touched upon
Jewish ideals, going so far as to make one the lead characters, Lt. Commander
Susan Ivanova, a Jew (portrayed, ironically, by an actress named Claudia
Christian). Although her religion didn’t play a significant role
in the series’ complex story arc, one episode did involve Ivanova’s
search for a minyan so she could sit shiva for her father. It was a task
made particularly difficult by the fact that she was located on a five-mile-long
space station floating in the middle of nowhere.
“Yet you do have a bunch of Jews there,” laughs
Burstein. “Where did they come from? Well, apparently there’s
a Chabad on Babylon 5, or so I’ve been told. They’re everywhere!”
For feedback, contact editor@sdjewishjournal.com.