Jewish Museum in Prague

Česky

the Czech-Spanish publication of the seminar proceedings Golem in Religion, Science and Art

The Czech-Spanish publication, The Golem in Religion, Science and Art, comprises a series of ten papers by renowned Czech and Argentine authors. It is based on the seminar of the same name that was held as part of the Golem 2002–5763 project at the Education and Culture Centre of the Jewish Museum in Prague on 9 October 2002. The aim of this seminar was to connect various scientific disciplines by means of a common theme (i.e., the Golem phenomenon), as is evident in the papers of the individual authors. The publication was put together by Miloš Pojar and edited by David Grossmann and Miloš Pojar. Spanish translation by Kateřina Kráčmarová and Eduardo Fernandéz Couceiro. Cover design by Jana Žemličková, graphic design by Kateřina Vlčková. Printed by Helvetica & Tempora, spol. s.r.o.

Comtent:

Maria Kodama de Borges, Borges’s Golem

Leo Pavlát, The Golem

Abraham Skorka, God, Man and Golem. Golem Aspects of Human Beings

Sidon, The Prague Golem

Neubauer, The Legend of the Golem

Vladimír Sadek, Rabbi Loew and the Tradition of the Golem

Arno Pařík, The Golem in Czech Art, or Problems with Figuration

Ladislava Hájková, The Golem in Czech Literature

Urgošíková, The Golem Myth in Film

Pavel Šmok, The Golem and Ballet

Maria Kodama de Borges, Borges’s Golem

Jorge Luis Borges was introduced to the world of the Hebrew Bible as a little boy by his grandmother Fana Haslam. Naturally, it was his later fascination with the work of Gustav Meyrink, whose biography he wrote for the Buenos Aries journal El Hogar, that brought him closer to Jewish mysticism and the Golem. An interest in the cabbala led to his studying the works of Martin Buber, Gershom Scholem and others. In fact, the influence of the cabbala is apparent in Borges’s entire output.

In the poem The Golem (1958), the use of the hidden name of God in connection with the creation of the Golem leads to nothing but questions, doubts and anxiety. In the story The Aleph the first letter of the Hebrew alphabet is used to provide a vision of a small iridescent sphere which can encompass the entire universe. The story Circular Ruins (1944) suggests a link between Buddhist philosophy and the idea of the Golem.

Borges often plays with the idea of the power of words. He creates the notion of a parallel world where our existence is either dreamed up or written down (poem The Compass, 1964). The influence of the “literalism” of the cabbala and of Gnostic and Rosicrucian texts is perhaps most evident in The Library of Babel (1941), in which is materialised the idea of a colossal library that comprises within it all combinations of letters, including, therefore, the mighty name of God. The power of the word in combination with alchemy appears also in Paracelsus’s Rose (1983). For Borges, however, words not only represent power that mankind tries to abuse; they can also save it, as is demonstrated in the story On the Salvation of Art (1984), in which Shinto deities decide, in the end, not to destroy mankind only because of the beauty of the seventeen syllables of a haiku.

Leo Pavlát, The Golem
The prototype golem is Adam. While God managed to pass onto man part of his creative strengths, speech and free will, he made him his partner. Mankind, however, was not able to pass on these qualities to the Golem.

Talmud scholars read the Torah to find the mystery of the creation and hidden divine judgements. In the tractate Sanhedrin it is written: “If the devout wanted, they could create the world.” The means of this creation was the Word. This interpretation became the central theme of Jewish mysticism, the basic work of which is Sefer Yetzirah (Book of Creation). According to this book, the letters of the Hebrew alphabet also have material energy and the way they are combined brings about the creation of the world in all its variety. From this also comes the idea of the golem as an artificial being created by man. Indeed, it is in the twelfth- thirteenth century commentaries to this work that the first instructions for creating the golem appear (Sodey razayya Eleazar of Worms, instructions of the Cherubim Cabbalistic sect of northern France). Conversely, the creation of a golem as a journey towards an ecstatic vision that is part of mystical contemplation is described by Rabbi Abraham Abulafia of Saragossa. For any reference to the creation of something material was unacceptable to him. The creation of a material golem followed on more from the German Hassidic tradition. Naturally, a material golem of such a kind had its limitations – it could not speak or reproduce and was denied a number of other attributes with which God endowed man. It is not able to make decisions and cannot differentiate between good and bad.

The most prominent golems came into existence in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, which was also a time when Christian alchemists (such as Paracelsus) were working on the creation of artificial beings. The first of these was the Chelm Golem, which was created by Eliijah Baal Shem who shaped a being from clay and brought it to life by suspending an amulet with the inscription emet (truth).

Of course, much more well-known today is the second of the above beings – the Golem of the Rabbi Loew of Prague, who is enveloped in many other legends. Loew himself does not refer directly to the creation of the Golem in any of his works but, when describing the world of divine causality, which is superior to the world of natural laws, he does admit that there are ways of manipulating the name of God in order to create such a being. In his commentary on Pirkei avot he refers to the Golem, in a completely different sense, as a person who is the opposite of a scholar. In the end, it was as an unmannered and unintelligent oaf that it found its way into Prague legends.

It was not until the first half of the nineteenth century that the Golem set out on its true path for fame. In the 1840s it appeared in collections of Jewish legends, which were later developed by Czech and German scholars who achieved world fame for the Golem. At the beginning of the twentieth century, Judith Rosenberg “discovered” the book Nifla’ot Maharal ha-Golem mi Prag (The Miraculous Deeds of Rabbi Loew with the Golem in Prague), which allegedly dated from the sixteenth century. In it the Golem is shown to be a protector of the ghetto against false accusations of ritual murder. It is precisely because of this theme, which was topical at the time that researchers came to view it as a faked document.

The Golem now lives a life of its own. As a powerful metaphor it attracts artists and scientists throughout the world who are giving it a new form that is not dependent on old Jewish models.

Abraham Skorka, God, Man and Golem. Golem Aspects of Human Beings
The multiple meaning of the word golem in Hebrew has been analysed many times, the main focus being placed on two interpretations – as an artificial anthropoid and as a person whose behaviour is, in a certain sense, unbalanced. The latter interpretation was subsequently incorporated into Yiddish, where the word golem became synonymous with a stupid, clumsy or boorish (inconsiderate) person. This interpretation is supported and concretised in commentaries on the Mishnah, specifically the tractate Pirkei avot. In these the Golem is seen as a person who can acquire intellectual skills but lacks moral qualities. The ideal of human wisdom is therefore the attainment of a balance between scholarship and the ability to recognise and to do good.

This interpretation opens up the possibility of a psychological account of the golem phenomenon. This is of particular relevance after the brutalities that were inflicted during World War II by one of the most educated European nations with the consent of a large portion of its intelligentsia.

In the course of Creation, Adam was a golem, a substance that has the possibility of acquiring certain abilities that can help him to attain wisdom or to turn him into a destructive creature of terror. The same is the case for man. The Creation was therefore not completed on the sixth day; it is still continuing. Man, thanks to his free will and ability to recognise and do good, participates in a continual process of creation with God. Justice and faith enable man to transcend his golem stage and to take on board his creative development.

Sidon, The Prague Golem
The creation of golems is described in the Torah, although this is somewhat problematic when Abraham and Sarah, during their departure from Charan, took their property and the “soul they had made”.. The Talmud describes the creation of a golem both as a calf and a person; naturally, it also tries to find an answer to the question why man cannot create as perfectly as the Creator himself. The difference lies only in the existence of human sin. For we do not live in the world as it could and will be after the arrival of the Messiah, but in a world corrupted by sin. Man cannot therefore create a perfect artificial being.

In the Jewish tradition the creation of artificial beings is not understood as something forbidden or impossible. Man can create by using the word for, in this world, it is the image and imprint of God who does so. On the other hand, however, he asks the question whether man should really create such beings (as in the tradition of Rabbi ben Sirovi). And this question, facing the reality of genetic engineering, is once again a topical issue. Even the righteous were tied down by sin to such an extent that they could create only imperfect golems. What could genetic engineers create then?

Neubauer, The Legend of the Golem
Originally the Golem theme was seen as a tale about the dangers that came about as a result of the seizing of God’s creation by man in the desire to take the place of God. The Golem myth was initially considered to be a warning against the consequences of science which claims to be rational while using magical, ‘non-transparent’, means and procedures about which one has ascertained how they work but not what they mean. According to such an interpretation the Golem legend warns us of the opacity of scientific assumptions.

According to current understanding, this legend expresses man’s fear of his own creations. However, it reminds us more of the unforeseeable nature of the consequences of our rationality, whose assumptions we nonetheless regard as comprehensible and reliable. It has emerged that science is not a form of magic that merely claims to be rational, but that its very rationality is magical. It is a completely different kind of rationality than the traditional one, which is based on a direct, rational view. It is a cabbalistic rationality based on text – depending on the fact that “what is written is done” – clearly and distinctly, in black and white. It is the rationality of the Cabbala, fully in the context of biblical spirituality. The Golem, too, belongs to the Cabbala.

The Golem personifies the nature of modern science. In fact, it emerged at a time when science was fundamentally changing its view of the world. Analogical perception was replaced by various processes of rationalism. The Golem also connects the mythical world with the world of science. As a mass of clay brought to life by the word, it is a part of the mythical Prague trinity which comprises the Bambino di Praga (the Infant Jesus) – the second Adam, the Word of God which materialised into a body – and, in the centre, Jan Nepomuc, a historical figure whose sculpture stands on Charles Bridge, connecting the Old Town – the Golem’s territory – with the Little Quarter, the “home” of the Prague Infant Jesus.

There is also an analogy with the Golem in the present. One such analogy is the computer. This works by using letters and symbols – specifically ones and zeros. The basis of the clay from which the Golem was created is silicate. One of the main materials used in modern computer technology is silicon. The shem of computers, which is what makes it similar to human beings, is their software – programs that are the fruit of human invention. It is therefore no coincidence that, on a proposal of sGershom Scholem, the first Israeli computer was named after the Prague Golem.

The second analogy is the atomic reactor. To a certain extent it may be claimed that Jewish scientists worked on the use of atomic energy before and during World War II in order to save their nation; in certain legends, a similar role was performed by the Golem. An analogy may also be drawn with the destructive impact and power of atomic energy, which mankind can keep under control only with difficulty.

Vladimír Sadek, Rabbi Loew and the Tradition of the Golem
The creation of an artificial being is described in the Babylon Talmud (Sanhedrin 65b) and the word golem also appears in the Hebrew Bible (Psalms 139:6). The first known instructions for creating a golem, however, do not appear until the twelfth and thirteenth centuries – in the commentaries on the Sefer Yetzirah in the context of medieval Hassidism. The original meaning of the creation of the golem was clearly based on a mystical-ecstatic experience. Later on, of course, golem making ceased to be an initiatory mystic experience and came to be described as an endeavour to create a servile being. In the sixteenth to eighteenth centuries this endeavour was ascribed to various Jewish scholars and mystics. In subsequent legends there appeared also an element of rebellion in the golem, directed against its creator (as in the Chelm legend). In the present day the golem legend is connected most frequently with the name of Rabbi Loew, who is the hero of countless other legends, but on no account is his historical and intellectual importance rooted in them.

Rabbi Loew was, at the same time, a traditional and a modern thinker. In the sphere of religious philosophy, pedagogy and aesthetics he was able to place traditional ideas in new contexts and, in this way, reach what for his time were progressive conclusions (such as the equality of nations and their right to self-determination). The term golem, however, was used by Rabbi Loew only in a philosophical sense and is not mentioned in any of his works. The earliest known connection between Rabbi Loew and the Golem can be found in a book by Ludwig Kalisch, dating from the first half of the nineteenth century. Later on, at the beginning of the twentieth century, a discovery was made of the book Nifla’ot Maharal, which was popularised in the 1920s by Hayyim Bloch. In the view of most contemporary historians, however, this was a faked document. It is therefore very difficult to find the answer to why the golem legend is so often connected with Rabbi Loew. Perhaps it is because the golem tradition is close to Hassidism and to mystical thinking, of which Rabbi Loew was a proponent. Moreover, there are a number of indications from which it may even be inferred that he considered the creation of a golem to be a possibility.

Interpretations of the golem tradition have undergone various developments. In the earliest versions the Golem is created by using the name of God; for the Prague Haskalah (Jewish Enlightenment), which placed emphasis on rational knowledge, the golem is more of an artificial machine; at the beginning of the twentieth century the Golem is created with the purpose of protecting the Jews.

But what exactly was the Golem, if it was actually created? It is probably that the creation of the Golem was a certain mystical-ecstatic experience. The Golem could also be the vision of a spiritual or astral body. For such an interpretation of the Golem there is even a Tibetan analogy, which is described by ethnographer Alexandr David-Néel.

Rabbi Loew realized the danger connected with the creation of the Golem and decided not to continue in his experiments with the artificial being. It remains to be seen whether humanity will be as far-sighted and whether it will take an example from Rabbi Loew in its attempt to be on a level with God.

Ladislava Hájková, The Golem in Czech Literature
Paradoxically, it was a German-language collection of Jewish legends Sippurim (1847) that brought the Golem and Rabbi Loew into the world of Czech literature in the mid-nineteenth century. For this book was used as a source by such authors as Alois Jirásek (for his Staré pověsti české / Old Bohemian Legends) and Eduard Petiška, thanks to whom the Golem and Rabbi Loew became established in the Czech context. Although the individual variations of these legends are very similar, they can broadly be divided into two groups. In the first, the Golem is brought to life to protect the ghetto and its life is ended once the danger has gone; in the second, the Golem is created as a servant and must be stopped the moment he starts to rage.

Naturally, themes from the golem legends also appeared in original literary works by Czech writers. Rabbi Loew is a central character in Jaroslav Vrchlický‘s comedy Rabínská moudrost / Rabbinic Wisdom. The latter also wrote a separate poem entitled Golem (Já nechal svět jít kolem / I Let the World Go Past, 1902), in which Rabbi Loew is punished for his desire to be on a level with God. The Golem theme was also used by the representative of the Prague Decadence Jiří Karásek of Lvovice. In his novel Ganymedes (1925) he tries to connect with golem theme with that of Pygmalion, while replacing heterosexual love with a destructive, homosexual one. In 1931, thanks to Jiří Voskovec and Jan Werich, the Golem appeared on the stage of the Liberation Theatre in the form of a “romantic revue”. In the 1960s it was featured by the Semafor Theatre and later used in satirical poems by Jiří Suchý. A somewhat more serious treatment of the Golem theme was attempted by Vítězslav Nezval. In his poem Rabbi Loew (Praha s prsty deště / Prague with the Rain’s Fingers, 1936) he tries to find an analogy between poetry and the creative yet destructive power of Rabbi Loew and his creation. Eva Hudečková’s short prose work Bratříček Golem / Brother Golem (1993) shows that the Golem theme still appears in Czech literature to this day. In it the Golem, this time, appears as a protector of the righteous.

Arno Pařík, The Golem in Czech Art, or Problems with Figuration
It was relatively late on, in connection with new interest in the Golem legend at the beginning of the twentieth century that the Golem was represented in art. It was not by chance that many of these initial literary, theatrical and film versions of Golem stories, which from the beginning were often tinged with an apocalyptic vision of destruction, were made during or shortly after World War I. The golem character gained popularity as a result of Meyrink’s novel, Bloch’s dramatisation and Wegener’s films; its image in art, however, only appeared in illustrations and set designs. The post-war period was full of social, national and artistic revolutions and utopian movements that declared the necessity of destroying the old world and creating a new type of man. The golden age of these visions occurred in the 1920s, which was a period overflowing with enthusiasm at the possibilities afforded by new technology and new ways of arranging the world. Also emanating from the 1920s are various constructivist projects for the world, ideologies and utopian myths. It was not until the crisis in European society and the threat of the Fascist and Nazis movements in the 1930s and 40s that there emerged a new, more substantial interpretation of the Golem as part of modern art, in particular surrealism.

However, the Golem had to wait until the second half of the twentieth century to be genuinely developed in art as one of the symbols of the modern world. At this time, the Golem resonated in a new way with the hopes and feelings of anxiety of people living in a technical world and modern society. At the beginning of the twentieth century the Golem often embodied the hopes and desires for emancipation and the redemption of mankind in a better and more just world (including the national aspirations of the Jews). In the second half of the twentieth century, however, the Golem embodied mainly the theme of the Sisyphean fate of man and the feelings of danger associated with the rapid development of modern technology and society and the imminent threat of self-destruction. It was in the transformations of the figurative art of this period that the golem theme found a broader fulfilment and reflection in diverse variations that perhaps serve to provide a deeper perspective of this ambiguous symbol of the modern age.

Urgošíková, The Golem Myth in Film
The Golem first appeared in film in 1914 (under the direction of Paul Wegener), since when the Golem theme has returned to film at irregular intervals. It is used both in horror movies and comedies, but has also appeared in more substantial film material. Within these genres, four films are of particular interest.

Golem (1920), directed by Paul Wegener, is a horror film that is visually influenced by German Expressionism. Another important aspect of this film centres around the abilities and dilemmas of the creator of the Golem, Rabbi Loew. A Czech-French co-production directed by Julien Duvivier (Golem, 1936) was made in the mid 1930s. In this film the Golem is brought to life for a noble purpose – freedom for the Jewish nation; at the end, however, its destructive force comes to the fore. In 1951 the Golem appeared in the Czechoslovak comedy The Baker's Emperor – The Emperor's Baker (Cisaruv pekar a pekaruv cisar), directed by Martin Frič. This film centres around the exact likeness of the emperor Rudolf II and his baker. While the emperor is not able to prevent the intrigues of his courtiers, however, the baker is able to use the enormous strength of the Golem, not for gaining power but for working to the benefit of the common people. The overall impression of the film was undoubtedly influenced by the period and place in which it was made. In the 1980 film Golem, directed by the Polish director Piotr Szulkin, far more themes than the Golem legends of Prague were drawn from Meyrink’s novel. By exploring the relationship between man and the Golem and the idea of the Golem in man and man in the Golem, this film reflected a far more philosophical and psychological basis.
The fact that the Golem legend still remains a lively topic for filmmakers is highlighted by the films made by the Israeli director Amos Gitai in the 1990s.

Pavel Šmok, The Golem and Ballet
The Golem legend from the perspective of ballet master and choreographer Pavel Šmok is a personal and witty overview of the various Golem stories. It describes the dilemmas facing a choreographer who has the task of getting a clay, formless homunculus and, through dance, to relate his story in such a way that it is interesting and understandable to the audience. The whole lecture relates to the staging of the ballet Golem by the Prague Chamber Ballet, which was premiered on 8 November 2001.

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