From Hardship, a Jewish Tradition of Humor Emerged

THE HAUNTED SMILE

The Story of Jewish Comedians in America

By Lawrence J. Epstein

PublicAffairs

$27.50, 400 pages

From the wild antics of the Three Stooges to the voluble angst of Woody Allen, so many of America’s comedians have been Jewish it is hard to believe, as Lawrence J. Epstein tells us in “The Haunted Smile,” that back in the 19th century Jews were accused of lacking a sense of humor. Perhaps it was because they failed to grasp the “humor” of anti-Semitic wisecracks.

Certainly, their accusers could not have been familiar with the droll stories of Sholem Aleichem, which would later inspire the musical “Fiddler on the Roof.” By 1979, however, according to Time magazine, 80% of professional comedians in America were Jewish, although Jews made up only 3% of the general population.

Why did so many Jews decide to become comedians in the first place, and why did their comedy appeal to such a wide range of Americans of every background? These are the questions that Epstein addresses in his lively and entertaining popular history of Jewish comedians in America. The comedians he surveys are an amazingly diverse lot, including the Marx Brothers, the Three Stooges, Jack Benny, Eddie Cantor, Ed Wynn, Fanny Brice, George Jessel, George Burns, Milton Berle, Phil Silvers, Gertrude Berg, Danny Kaye, Sid Caesar, Jerry Lewis, Mel Brooks, Mort Sahl, Allen Sherman, Alan King, Jackie Mason, Shelley Berman, Tom Lehrer, Lenny Bruce, Woody Allen, Joan Rivers, Roseanne, Jerry Seinfeld and Adam Sandler.

Some of these comics emphasized their Jewishness; others, particularly in the earlier years, when anti-Semitism was rife, concealed (or at least didn’t advertise) it. Still others were happy to own their identity but not especially interested in mining it for comedic material. The comedians’ humor took many forms: the manic energy of the Marx Brothers, the sweet daffiness of Wynn, the wry understatement of Benny, the playfulness of Kaye, the inspired clowning of Berle, the astute satire of Sahl, the edgy obscenities of Bruce, the nice-guy coolth of Seinfeld.

And, in almost every case, as Epstein shows us, there was a great deal of hard work and artistry that went into making people laugh. Particularly interesting is his account of how Burns developed his act with Gracie Allen, recasting himself in the role of straight man once he realized Gracie got the biggest laughs. Even better is his account of how Benny developed his phenomenal sense of timing as he made the transition from live comedian to radio comedy.

The first half of the book, taking us from vaudeville through movies and radio to the dawn of television, is by far the more absorbing. Painting in broad brushstrokes, Epstein nonetheless does a good job of filling in the social, cultural and economic background that gave rise to this first generation of comics. Most were poor, growing up in crowded tenements without heating or bathtubs. Unlike many of their siblings and cousins who worked hard at school and became teachers, doctors or lawyers, the future comedians were usually the class cutups, impatient with authority figures. As the children of immigrants, they felt the conflict between their attachment to their parents and their desire to become part of an enticing new world, which often rebuffed them.

By turning to various forms of humor to deal with their anxieties, Jewish comedians found ways of coping that resonated with Americans of other backgrounds as they tried to adjust to the pace of modern urban life, experienced the conflict between generations or confronted the hardships of the Great Depression. “Searching for a way to deal with the emerging anxieties of the modern age,” Epstein declares, “America turned to the Jews, the masters of handling history’s troubles.” It is something of a cliche to say that anxiety, depression and sadness lurk behind the mask of the smiling clown, but psychologists--and casual observers--have confirmed the truth of this particular truism. And behind the anxiety, depression and sadness, as Epstein tells us, lurked an even deeper emotion: fear. Centuries of oppression and persecution had already marked the sensibilities of many Jewish comedians even before the rise of Hitler. Comedians fought their fears by finding ways to laugh at them.

Although the anti-Semitism they encountered in America was far less terrifying than the pogroms that had forced their parents and grandparents to leave Russia and eastern Europe, it was very real. And, as Epstein shows, it actually became worse in the 1930s, as exemplified in the notorious radio broadcasts of Father Coughlin. Epstein’s account of this period is thoughtful and enlightening. Toward the conclusion of the book, things get a little scrappy. Epstein deserves credit for trying to be as up-to-the-moment as possible, not only surveying the current crop of comics but even calling attention to some he deems up-and-coming. Still, his judgments here may be a bit hasty. But one needn’t share all of Epstein’s tastes and preferences to be edified, moved and thoroughly entertained by this clearly written, crisply presented chronicle of comedy.