In Yiddish, ‘laughing with lizards’ at antisemitism

I recently had the unfortunate privilege of being on a panel to discuss the history and contemporary reality of antisemitism. I say “privilege” because it was a frank and fruitful discussion with very thoughtful panelists. I say “unfortunate” because of the need to have the discussion at all. Antisemitism (just like the old joke about German humor) is no laughing matter. That said, sometimes the best thing is to laugh, even if it’s “lakhn mit yáshtsherkes” (literally, “laughing with lizards”), that is, laughing because the only other option is tears.
To that end, I thought I would share a joke from Immanuel Olsvanger’s incomparable Royte Pomerantsen (Red Oranges). This is a collection of humorous anecdotes and jokes in Yiddish which Olsvanger collected from Eastern European informants in the early part of the 20th century. This one is entitled “An oytomát an antisemít” (an antisemitic ticket vending machine), which I have rendered in more-or-less standard Yiddish:
“Bay unz lozt men nit arúf afn perón on gelt.”
(In our neck of the woods, they didn’t used to let you onto the station platform without money.)
“Az me vil arúfgeyn afn perón, darf me koyfn a bilyét far tsen kópikes.”
(When you wanted to get onto the platform, you had to buy a ticket for 10 kopecks.)
“Iz farán afn ban an oytomát, vos az men varft aráyn a zílberne tsenkópekene, geyt aróys a bilyét.”
(The platform had a ticket vending machine that, when you inserted a silver 10-kopeck coin, would dispense a ticket.)
“Éynmol iz a yid gekúmen un hot gevólt némen a bilyét, zet er, az es shteyt óngeshribn, az me muz aráynvarfn tsen kópikes.”
(One time, a Jew came and wanted a ticket, and he saw it was written that one had to insert 10 kopecks.)
“Trakht er zikh, ‘Et, vest gebn far fínef kópikes oykh!’”
(He thought to himself, “So what! You’ll give me a ticket even for 5 kopecks!”)
“Un er nemt un varft aráyn a zílberne fínefkópekene. Óber keyn bilyét iz nit aróysgekumen.”
(So he went and inserted a silver 5-kopeck coin. But no ticket came out.)
“Zogt er tsum oytomát, ‘Sha, béyzer zikh nit, ot hóstu dir nokh fínef kópikes, un gib mir a bilyét un tshépe zikh op’.”
(He said to the vending machine, “Calm down, don’t get worked up, here’s another 5 kopecks; give me a ticket and be done with it.”)
“Un er varft aráyn nokh a fínefkópekene, óber es kumt váyter nit aróys keyn bilyét.”
(So he inserted another 5-kopeck coin, but still no ticket came out.)
“Trakht er zikh, az der oytomát iz in gantsn a shvindl.”
(“He thought that the vending machine was an utter fraud.”)
“Derváyl zet er, vi es geyt tsú an ofitsír, un varft aráyn a tsenkópekene, un es loyft aróys téykef a bilyét.”
(Meantime, an officer approached the machine, inserted a 10-kopeck coin, and instantly a ticket popped out.)
“Zogt er tsum oytomát, ‘Mir hóstu nit gevólt gebn, un dem goy gístu? Oyb azóy, bístu dokh glat an antisemít!’”
(The Jew said to the vending machine, ‘Me you don’t want to give a ticket to but the non-Jew you do? Then you’re quite simply an antisemite!’)
The Yiddishness of the joke does not necessarily consist of his ultimately landing on antisemitism as the logical cause of the perceived injustice. (Though the fact that it’s in his conceptual framework is part of the structure of the humor. The presence of a military officer in the scene makes the presence of a potentially real antisemite quite likely.) Rather, the Yiddishness lies in the Jews’ dialogical orientation to the world: First, that he thought he could bargain with a vending machine, an “oytomát” (literally, an automaton); second, that the problem is a result of his own presumptions about being able to bargain in the first place; and third, that his entire thought process is performed aloud and conversationally. By the end of the joke, you could just about believe in the possibility of an antisemitic vending machine, a slide into the absurd that makes the joke that much more delicious.
With best wishes in troubling times, as always, “léyent gezúnterhéyt” — read it in good health.

Please send Yiddish questions to: yiddishcolumn@americanisraelite.com