Speak No Evil, Little Dudes
By JOSH LAMBERT
GOING GLOBAL
The Word-Wise Adventures of Yisrael and Meir: Book One
By Yitzchok Kronblau
Illustrated by Ruth Beifus
80 pages. Arscroll/Mesorah. $24.99.
TREKKING THROUGH TIME
The Word-Wise Adventures of Yisrael and Meir: Book Two
By Yitzchok Kronblau
Illustrated by Ruth Beifus
104 pages. Arscroll/Mesorah. $24.99.
Like many comic-book adventure series, The Word-Wise
Adventures of Yisrael and Meir begins with a call to save the world. One
morning, an Orthodox Jewish kid discovers a way to eliminate pain and
suffering. According to a teaching of the Chofetz Chayim, a.k.a. Rabbi Yisrael Meir Kagan,
"Every single day we wait for Mashiach to come, but—do you hear
this—he is being held back because we are speaking loshon hora!"
The Messiah, that is, won't show up until Jews stop breaking the commandments
related to improper speech.
The boy and his younger brother set out to make this happen, and though they
haven't been struck by radiation, or empowered by the rays of the sun, or
descended from aliens, and though they don't sport capes or unitards, these
boys are clearly the author's and publisher's idea of Jewish superheroes. On
the covers of the books, they zoom through the skies, Superman-like, riding on
texts like magic carpets. Their names are Yisrael and Meir, meaning they're
contemporary instantiations of the Chofetz Chayim himself, who, more than any
other Jewish sage, catalogued and analyzed the laws of Jewish speech.
Every day, the boys journey to another location, usually the home of a
substantial Jewish community. They start out observing Rosh Hashana in
Lakewood, New Jersey—"home to America's largest yeshivah"—and by
Succot they've already passed through San Francisco, Montreal, and Chicago, and
arrived in Mexico City. Throughout the first volume, the boys cross continents,
ranging as far as Australia and South Africa, while in the second, they
traverse time as well as space, "arriving," as Yisrael realizes,
"at each community we decide to visit exactly at a time the Jews
flourished there." Prague in 1582, Lublin in 1930, Vilna in 1776: like a frum
Bill and Ted, in each locale the boys bump
into a major rabbi or his followers, and pick up a piece of wisdom on the
subject of shmiras haloshon (proper speech habits) to take home.
Designed as a "daily learning adventure" in the spirit of Daf Yomi (i.e., with one lesson per
day), the book's elaborate format packs teachings into every square inch of its
glossy, full-color two-page spreads. On each of these, a mitzvah or rule
related to shmiras haloshon appears in the left-hand column, and an
elaboration or application of that rule on the right, while in the central
comic-style panels, Yisrael and Meir either witness or themselves commit a transgression
of the rule, so as to lay out concretely for the reader what behavior, exactly,
must be avoided.
On a flight, Yisrael whines that the senior citizen seated in front of him has
reclined so far back that he's blocking the aisle; the left-hand column quotes
Leviticus 19:32 ("In the presence of an old person shall rise, and you
shall the honor the presence of a sage"). Later, while the boys trek
through the Alps, Meir turns to Yisrael and questions the integrity of a trader
who sold them their packs and snowshoes; his brother reminds him that, as the
daily lesson puts it, "You are not allowed to tell loshon hora to your
relatives." The two protagonists, on the whole, resemble Gallant more often than Goofus,
but in every locale, a sinner always pop ups to stand corrected for the
reader's edification.
The first two handsome volumes of this projected trilogy, which resemble
European hardcover comics albums, manifest a stunning attention to detail
consistent with the excellence of Artscroll's industry-leading siddurim and
makhzorim. Design flourishes abound. Each day, the boys' diary entries
(color coded for clarity, Yisrael's blue and Meir's green) appear, through trompe
l'oeil touches, as if they are attached to the page. In the present-day of Going
Global, they affix their notebook sheets with paperclips, but in the second
volume the paper stock and mode of attachment (pins, wax, or string) vary
depending on the century in which the scene takes place. Meanwhile, Ruth Beifus
illustrates Yisrael and Meir's adventures in glossy color, with a precise style
well-suited to capturing action and atmosphere. In the first book, Beifus's
layouts tend toward simplicity—one or two large panorama panels per page,
usually—but in Trekking Through Time, she presents much more complex
pages, employing Eisnerian techniques to maximize narrative and visual
opportunities. Impressively, she also precisely reproduces architectural
details of buildings in locales ranging from Bukhara and Baghdad to Bombay and
Shanghai. Very occasionally, Beifus's comics panels take over the entire pages,
demonstrating that if freed from the complex constraints of these particular
projects, she could produce truly extraordinary comics or graphic novels.
The books admirably insist on representing a diverse selection of Jews, who
appear here with skin tones dark and light, wearing the traditional costumes of
their homelands. (Stereotypical? Sure, but no worse than, say, Epcot Center.)
Distressingly, though, in this wide world of Jews, not one single female
character plays a role in the narrative or utters a word. And virtually no
one—not a helicopter pilot, hot air balloon operator, or jeering tourist at
Niagara Falls—appears without a modest head covering. The world that Yisrael
and Meir trek through, in other words, is a radical Yiddishland: an
interconnected world of Jews, and only Jews, magically purged of everything
that could make an Orthodox Jew even slightly uncomfortable—including, say, a
woman who speaks.
That's one reason I can't recommend these extremely impressive books, even to
my Modern Orthodox friends with young children. To imply by exclusion, as these
books do—in accordance with the exploitation of the Psalmist's phrase, "Kol
kavoda bat melekh penima" ["All glorious is the king's daughter
within the palace"], in traditionalist Orthodox communities—that Jewish
girls should be neither seen nor heard, especially in a book about the ethics
of speech, is simply unconscionable.
The other reason I cannot recommend The Word-Wise Adventures of Yisrael and
Meir is less to do with the creators of this volume, and more with the
distortion caused by compressing the teachings of the Chofetz Chayim into tiny
soundbites for children. Glossing Deuteronomy 19:15, the book explains that
because Judaism requires two witnesses to convict someone of a crime, "If
you alone saw Mr. X stealing a candy bar, the beis din [rabbinical
court] would not be allowed to hear your story. If you told the story to the beis
din anyway, it would be loshon hora." It is also, the book continues,
"forbidden to tell your friends what you saw." So if a child is the only
witness to a crime, his responsibility, according to the teachings here, is to
keep his mouth shut. In parentheses, the book reminds kids to "consult a
rabbi when such a situation arises," but how, especially at a moment when
we are sensitive to the sexual abuse of children by religious leaders, can a
book tell a child that it would be sin for him to report a crime?
The Chofetz Chayim likewise teaches, "You must try to think positively
about what people do and say, even if it looks as if they are doing something
wrong": again, the authors qualify this rule with an asterisk, but
couldn't a faithful eight-year-old easily misunderstand this advice and
"think positively" about the parent or teacher who is abusing him or
the bully who has been stealing his lunch money? Other rules are less
potentially pernicious, but make little obvious sense. For example, the book
explains that Jews are not allowed "to praise anyone in front of a
group" unless the person being praised is "a Torah leader of very
high standing." But how on earth can a person achieve "very high
standing" if he or she is never praised in public?
Many of the Chofetz Chayim's teachings, as conveyed here, are more clearly
useful. Don't tell lies about people, don't badmouth the Jews, don't repeat
someone's secrets: all reasonable advice. We would, of course, live in a more
placid world if everyone—or even every Jew—followed such rules and thought more
carefully about his or her own words before speaking. But more than anything
else, The Word Wise Adventures of Yisrael and Meir offers a reminder of
the loftiness—and perhaps unattainability—of this goal. Not to rain on Yisrael
and Meir's international, time-traveling parade, but it seems obvious that the
Chofetz Chayim said that loshon hora is what keeps the Messiah from
arriving precisely because he recognized how unimaginable a world without evil
speech is. If no one spoke loshon hora, in other words, Messiah would
already be here.