The Hidden Presence Amongst Us: “The Wandering Jew” as Religious and Racial Other in Pär Lagerkvist’s The Sybil and The Death of Ahasuerus

• In Event: The “Hidden” Jewish Presence in 20th-Century Fiction

Abstract

Originating in Europe in the 13th century, the legend of “The Wandering Jew” can be said to reflect the perception and position of Jews in Europe at that time. The basic story involves the figure of an elderly Jew who, having been “cursed by Jesus himself for a slight (typically the Jew’s unwillingness to allow a cross-bearing Jesus a moment’s temporary respite)” (Hasan-Rokem and Dundes 1986, vii), is forced to wander endlessly throughout the world. The endurance of the legend throughout Europe (Edelmann 1986, af Klintberg 1986) is hardly surprising, in light of the popular and theological scapegoating to which Jews have been subjected on account of their supposed role in the death of Jesus (Cohen 1991, Nirenberg 2013). In addition to its religious emphasis, the story perpetuates an array of negative cultural and “racial” tropes that traditionally have been attributed to Jews (Biale 2007, Nirenberg 2013). Moreover, the fact that the Wandering Jew figure usually is hidden from public recognition, even though his presence is suspected, merely enhances his otherness.

The legend was given new life in 1956 in Nobel laureate Pär Lagerkvist’s novel The Sybil, and four years later in a second novel, The Death of Ahasuerus. In this paper presentation, I will distinguish between the historical legend itself and Lagerkvist’s modernist, Nordic reinterpretation of it. I suggest that, by having the character Ahasuerus relate his own story at length in The Sibyl, and by stripping away some of the stereotypical, allegedly “innate” features that had been associated with this legendary figure, Lagerkvist motivates considerable sympathy for his eternal existential plight. In The Death of Ahasuerus, however, Lagerkvist restores some of the character’s otherness, not only by placing him alongside pilgrims on their way to Jerusalem, but also by accentuating his hidden, shadowy identity. The ambiguities of these two post-Holocaust representations, which have not received adequate attention, raise important questions about Lagerkvist’s motive in writing the novels, which I claim feed – wittingly or unwittingly – into popular perceptions of the “hidden threat” posed by an already abject minority.

Author

• Howard Sklar, University of Helsinki