Alaska Employment Law

As Chassidic Jews living in Sitka, Alaska my family and I occupy what one could call a narrow demographic. No focus group here. You can imagine our entertainment at learning of Michael Chabon’s book, The Yiddish Policemen’s Union. No longer are we called Mushugenneh Yidden in Yenemsville; now we enjoy the appellation: the Frozen Chosen.

I have to admit to being a bit uncultured when it comes to murder mystery novels. I leave the literary review of Mr. Chabon’s book to more able hands. I did read the book in haste for Mr. Chabon’s visit to our little community, and as a Sitkan and a Jew, I dove into his fantastical premise: What if the modern State of Israel never existed, and the Jewish refugees from the Holocaust were granted a temporary, semi-autonomous state in Sitka?  I surfed through Mr. Chabon’s world of Chassidic ghettos and Brooklyn High-rises, a world where my friend John Straley was the only goy in Sitka, a land of corned beef and smoked salmon, and a world where the Jewish conspiracy to redeem the world originated in my backyard. Mr. Chabon’s descriptive prowess is without question, and his shadowy day-dream of a Yiddish Sitka brought a smile to this “black-hatter” wearing rubber boots. But beyond interesting discussion around a campfire fueled by L’Chaim and Smirnoff, I began to look for the book’s neshamaleh (its soul).

Mr. Chabon’s book, in part, captures the Jewish people’s existential angst. We are a nation blessed, and seemingly cursed, as an eternal people. Chabon’s Jews exhibit the desperate exhaustion that comes from weathering countless pogroms at the hands of countless empires. The inherited unease that causes one hand to build a home, and the other to dig an escape tunnel for the inevitable need to flee. In this book, a mere fifty years after absorbing the deafening blow of the Holocaust, the Jews of Sitka are once again faced with expulsion from their enclave. Chabon’s Jews cry out: “Ad Masai?” How Long is this Exile?

To be honest, Mr. Chabon’s writing does exhibit a misunderstanding of Jewish mysticism and an irreverence in the guise of art. However, he does capture this cry of exile, in various holy and unholy angles.  Mr. Chabon’s conspiracy is based on the prophetic teaching that a Moshiach (Messiah) is born to each generation.  If the generation merits, the Moshiach becomes fully revealed and both the wandering and the suffering are healed. According to this ancient teaching, when the match between the Messiah and the generation clicks, the Jewish people will return to the Land of Israel and the world will be redeemed from its spiritual and physical exile.  The parallels between Mr. Chabon’s Sitka and modern day Israel illustrate that this match still eludes us.  That even with the creation of the modern State of Israel, we are not yet home.

Mr. Chabon’s story gives my generation of Jews a creative platform to explore our exile. The Kabbalah teaches that our modern wanderings parallel the biblical wanderings in the desert. That each place we are led contains trapped sparks of light, and that through refined behavior in that place, we release this light. The mystical process of finding and redeeming the sparks of light is called Tikkun Olam (Repair of the World). This is the secret of the Jews of Sitka, and the Chassidic teaching: “Mach Da Eretz Yisroel” (Make this Place the Land of Israel). Whether in Sitka or Jerusalem, the present generation’s work toward Tikkun Olam remains unfinished. Mr. Chabon’s story brings this struggle to the mainstream, and it is quite possible that The Yiddish Policemen’s Union will not only entertain its readers, but will also cement Sitka’s rightful place as a key factor in the conspiracy to redeem.

About the author: Mr. Voluck practices law in Sitka, Alaska.