fandom-pardes

[fandom-pardes]

*Fires up the Chaos symbols* Time for some fandom heresy:

I am working on three AUs where Azula, one of the main antagonists of the show Avatar: The Last Airbender gets to become a fully rounded person pursuing three separate paths to becoming that better person. This is usually called a Redemption narrative in the AO3 tags but it is not a tag that I will be using. Redemption is an Abrahamic, specifically Christian and to a different, much narrower degree Jewish (the concept of redemption works fundamentally differently but it's *A* concept that exists there).

ATLA is a setting based on a mishmash of East and Central Asian influences.

Shinto, Buddhism, and Chinese traditional religions do not really have a concept of redemption, because they also lack the concept of sin in its Christian form and in its Judaic form (where the term is translated from Hebrew into English as sin but the concept exists either not at all or loosely translated in a deliberately misleading fashion but there is still a concept of good and evil).

At the same token as with all my stories the fundamental moral system is Judaic, the Yetzer Hara, or the evil inclination, and the Yetzr Ha-Tov or the good inclination. Each in a perpetual struggle, each with good and evil sides to them. Insofar as they fit the trajectory, it's that a character who was a victimized child soldier grows into someone very different.

As a child soldier in the canon-verses her narrative is tragic, as with all the other child soldiers. She was never a figure of admiration or 'cool lookit what she can do', it's a horrific tragedy and a failure of her world that the deeds of children right the deeds of their elders who failed them. As a child soldier she did terrible things because she was fighting for the imperialistic 'loosely Axis' side of a very loose analogue to the World Wars of the 20th Century. She is the indoctrinated Nazi of the Hitlerjungend or the Imperial Japanese child soldiers, and what happened in her childhood reflected this.

When she grows up she realize just what she actually was, that these were bad things, and it inclines her to remove herself from the places that did her harm and to seek a life elsewhere. This is not 'redemption' she was not 'a monster' save insofar as all child soldiers are forced into monstrous deeds.

Each of these narratives shows that in different contexts ranging from a cosmic horror story with strong Lovecraftian elements to a straight up canon continuation she had other paths that the writers of the actual series could have taken but did not. That the concept of the 'good' or 'evil' in these cases does not matter, that the child soldier aspect is frankly horrifying and the people who take it as a given are not nice people and at best callous and at worst "I am the scourge of God, if you had not committed such sins God would not have sent me among you" scale unpleasantness.

They form a tryptich laying out another important view of writing, at least to me. Characters are not neutral, writing is not neutral. Characters are concepts of the mind, and a writer is free to do anything they damned well please with a character, and if it's written well, excellent. Sometimes it isn't but they still tried! Characters can be written in other ways, and sometimes doing so brings out nuance to a setting that was always there and lurking in little moments in spite of the visions of the original creators.

[fandom-pardes]

Azula and the awakening of the yetzer hatov

In a previous post, I referenced yetzer hara (”the evil inclination”) and yetzer hatov (”the good inclination”), paralleling both to the Freudian id and superego, respectively.

But did you know that according to many rabbis, we’re not born with a yetzer hatov, that we are ruled by the yetzer hara until the age of thirteen? Incidentally, this is the same age as a boy’s bar mitzvah. Halachically speaking, this is the age he becomes responsible for fulfilling all his moral, legal, and ritual obligations.

It’s amazing to consider that, two thousand years ago, there were people who understood that moral reasoning is a stage of human development and built a legal code around that. Two thousand years ago, there were people who understood that our capacity for moral reasoning don’t just flip on like a switch. It has to be learned and cultivated. Indeed, there’s the insinuation that, prior to the point when a child develops a moral sense, even their acceptable behavior is driven more by desire for reward and fear of punishment than the actual ethics of a course of action.

What does this have to do with Azula?

Book Three does a lot to humanize Azula. We get brief glimpses into her psyche, revealing that she’s been struggling longer and harder than she lets on. Her conscience catches up with her and forces her to reflect on her behavior. Finally, she completely unravels.

We can read this as the tragic consequence of social forces acting upon her. But an alternative reading is that we’re witnessing the awakening of Azula’s yetzer hatov. We’re seeing Azula’s moral consciousness shift from the desire for reward and fear of punishment to acknowledging and taking responsibility for the ways her behavior affects others. Because of the distorted and conflicting messages she received from the adults in her life, this transition is a lot rougher than it otherwise would be. As of the end of the show, that process is still incomplete, but the fact that she starts it on her own, without substantial support or guidance, ironically says a lot of good things about her.

[fandom-pardes]

Starting 2021 with this new and short (only 8 minutes!) episode of my podcast, examining the horror behind holiness itself.

For more content, check out Horror and Holiness on Spreaker.

[fandom-pardes]

According to halacha, which actions are Azula liable for?

Reposted from my Tumblr.

One of my favorite ways to study Jewish texts is to take a fictional character or situation and examine it through the lens of Jewish text and tradition.

I’ve done this before with ABC’s Once Upon A Time. Now I’m going to take up this exercise again with Avatar: The Last Airbender.

Before I begin, a few things to keep in mind.

I’m not a Talmud scholar.

There is no definitive Jewish Opinion™ about any issue pertaining to halacha. Unanimous opinions on halacha are so rare that when we find one, we assume something went wrong in the process..

Azula is a morally polarizing character in AtLA fandom. Regardless of who you ask, you’re bound to get some strong opinions about exactly what she’s done, the extent to which she’s responsible for it, and what this says about her morality or lack thereof. I’m not going to rehash those arguments. I think I’ve made it clear that I care less about whether people approve of her behavior than I do about how their statements about her reinforce harmful messages about women, people of color, LGBT people and mentally ill people.

Nevertheless, she’s incredibly interesting, and studying Jewish text is fun, so here we are.

Why examine Azula’s actions through the lens of halacha?

Halacha gets a lot of flack because it comes off as excessively legalistic. But, in my opinion, that’s based on a misunderstanding of what halacha is. Usually translated as “Jewish law,” the word halacha actually comes from the root word that means “to go/walk.”

Halacha is not a collection of rules for the sake of having rules. It’s meant to take us somewhere. You can write a library of books about exactly what that is and what it means. But for the sake of simplicity, halacha is how we show that we recognize the holiness of everything in creation. So we aim to do right by one another, by the land we live in and by the creatures we share this world with.

Before we can launch into examining the halachic ramifications of the things Azula does, we need to establish some boundaries.

Only the show counts. It’s the common frame of reference universally accepted by the vast majority of fandom. Fandom’s stances on the comics, novelizations and other tie-in materials are too variable to base an analysis on.

Word of God is immaterial. While some would use the phrase Death of the Author, Jewish tradition has a more entertaining take on it. In the Talmud, there’s a dispute between Rabbi Eliezer and some of his peers. In that story, Rabbi Eliezer says that if he’s right, this or that miraculous thing would happen, and those miraculous things do happen. But the other rabbis still reject it because we don’t determine halacha by miraculous signs. Eventually, God parts the heavens and says, “Rabbi Eliezer is right.” But another rabbi responds, “The Torah is not in heaven,” meaning that the Torah was meant for human beings on earth to interpret for themselves. And God’s response? To smile and say, “My children have defeated Me.”

Now, let’s begin.

Is Azula bound by halacha?

She’s not Jewish, so no. However, all human beings are bound by the Noahide laws. For the sake of argument, let’s say that the Noahide covenant applies to all humans on all worlds. According to the Talmud (Sanhedrin 56a.24):

Since the halakhot of the descendants of Noah have been mentioned, a full discussion of the Noahide mitzvot is presented. The Sages taught in a baraita: The descendants of Noah, i.e., all of humanity, were commanded to observe seven mitzvot: The mitzva of establishing courts of judgment; and the prohibition against blessing, i.e., cursing, the name of God; and the prohibition of idol worship; and the prohibition against forbidden sexual relations; and the prohibition of bloodshed; and the prohibition of robbery; and the prohibition against eating a limb from a living animal.

What is Azula’s legal status?

In any case, we know the rules, and now we have to decide whether Azula broke them or not, right?

Not so fast.

First, we have to determine if Azula is of the appropriate legal status to be held accountable for upholding the Noahide laws. In other words: when she committed certain acts, was Azula an adult capable of making rational decisions?

Clear your mind of the idea that being an adult is the same as being a grownup. Instead, think of it as a term that defines when people can make legally binding decisions.

As far as I can tell, the Talmud doesn’t say when a gentile becomes an adult. However, we can use halacha as a guide.

Now for a warning.

If frank talk about the physical development of adolescents makes you uncomfortable, you might want to skip this next part. There’s nothing graphic or titillating about what I’m going to discuss, but if breasts and pubic hair squick you out, skip this part until I say it’s safe in bold like this.

According to halacha, a girl reaches adulthood when she’s twelve years and one day old and has two pubic hairs. Yeah, you read that right. Twelve and two pubes are the requirement. Before this point, nothing she does is legally binding, even if she’s really smart and claims to be fully aware of what she’s doing. After this point, her actions are legally binding, even if she says she had no idea what she was doing.

On the show, we see Azula in a range of ages. In “Zuko Alone,” we see her at roughly eight years old. In “The Storm,” she’s about eleven. In all the other episodes she’s in, she’s fourteen. So, from a legal standpoint, flashback!Azula is too young for her actions to be legally binding. At that point in time, the responsibility would fall to her parents.

Um, I’m not willing to speculate about the genitals of an underage cartoon character, so for the sake of argument, I’m assuming that 14-year-old Azula meets the two pubes requirement. Thus, 14-year-old Azula is responsible for her actions.

If you skipped that last part, it’s safe to continue now.

OK, we’ve established that flashback!Azula is too young for her actions to be legally binding, but in the main story, Azula is legally an adult and responsible for her actions.

We good? Alright.

Which Noahide laws does Azula actually break?

This is both easier and harder than it seems.

The laws about idol worship, cursing God, and forbidden sexual acts don’t apply to her because neither religion nor sex are portrayed as such on the show. Also, the law about establishing courts of justice is a communal obligation, not one that falls on a single individual, so that’s another one we don’t have to concern ourselves with.

That leaves the prohibitions against bloodshed, robbery and eating a limb cut from a living animal.

First up: bloodshed.

The connotation of the prohibition against bloodshed is not for general acts of violence, but actual murder.

Here’s where I think I’m going to throw a lot of people for a loop. Azula doesn’t kill anyone on the show. She tries. She comes close. She wouldn’t lose sleep over it if she did. But nobody’s dead because of her. She doesn’t even take lives as collateral damage.

One could argue that zapping Aang with lightning counts as killing, but when the Sages talk about death and dying, I assume they mean the kind where the dead stay dead, not people who are revived by magic spirit water. Furthermore, if someone’s about to kill you (and I think entering the Avatar State qualifies here), you are halachically obligated to save your own life, even if it means killing that person.

Second: robbery.

We’ll come back to that.

Third: eating a limb from a living animal.

This prohibition is often expanded to incorporate all forms of animal cruelty.

The show does portray animal cruelty. We see a prime example with the circus in “Appa’s Lost Days.”

But what about Azula? We don’t see her interact with many animals on the show, but there are two notable examples: Appa the sky bison in “Appa’s Lost Days” and Bosco the bear in “The Crossroads of Destiny.”

How does her behavior measure up? Despite her earlier behavior of terrorizing turtleducks, Azula does not harm either Appa or Bosco.

On the show, Mai and Ty Lee are seen spending time with Bosco in the throne room while the Earth King is imprisoned. So, at the very least, they treat the bear well.

So, Azula is not liable for animal cruelty.

*hands Azula her Not As Big A Jerk As She Could Have Been award*

Now, let’s revisit that prohibition against robbery.

Given the prescribed punishment (decapitation), the connotation seems to be taking the rightful property of another through violent means. That being said, the prohibition against robbery is often extended to include all sorts of theft.

This one might have some legs. On the show, does Azula take the rightful property of another, and does she use violent means to do so?

Absolutely.

A major example is stealing the clothes of the Kyoshi Warriors after defeating them in combat.

But!

The show takes place during a time of war, and the Kyoshi Warriors, as allies of the Avatar, are enemies of the Fire Nation. So does beating them up and taking their uniforms fall under the prohibition against robbery, or are the Kyoshi Warrior uniforms considered the spoils of war and thus free for the taking?

Halachically speaking, it might actually be the latter. When fighting the Kyoshi Warriors, Azula acts as a military commander during a time of war and achieves a decisive victory against an elite combat unit. Thus, she is entitled to take their stuff.

So, back to the original question: which actions does Azula commit during the show that she’s halachically liable for?

The answer, shockingly, may be: none.

On the show, we’re encouraged to think of Azula as a Very Bad Girl who does Very Bad Things. She’s calculating, ruthless and deceptive. She’s also full of herself. She’s not someone who inspires warm, fuzzy feelings in most people. But when you put her actions under the microscope, she exercises remarkable restraint compared to what she’s capable of.

Don’t worry. No one’s going to nominate her for a Nobel Peace Prize just yet. This is Azula we’re talking about. She’s not acting out of an overwhelming love for humanity. But it is interesting that despite her threats to kill, maim and destroy, she doesn’t participate in wanton destruction or wasteful loss of life.

[fandom-pardes]

Redemption arcs and Christian hegemony in fandom

Note: Edited and reposted from my personal blog.

As a fan of many characters deemed villains in their respective stories, redemption arcs are often a topic of discussion. Does this or that character deserve redemption? What makes for a satisfying redemption arc? Which redemption arcs work or don’t work?

However, it’s rare for me to come across a conversation that examines the concept of a redemption arc itself, let alone the forces that shape our understanding of what redemption means and how it works.

With that in mind, I’m going to see what I can do to crack open the assumptions behind redemption narratives and see what interesting alternatives present themselves.

As someone who studies Jewish texts as an entryway into Jewish values and ethics, the ways that majority gentile fandoms talk about characters transforming from villains to non-villains often strike me as reflecting Christian hegemony. Or, when speaking specifically of American media, puritanical Christian hegemony.

Redemption narratives are rooted in a deeply Christian framework where people do bad things because they are evil, sinful, or corrupt by nature. The task of redemption is to destroy or purge that corruption, and the surest way to do this is to suffer and die for others.

For an example of a redemption narrative, look no further than Anakin Skywalker. As Darth Vader, he murdered and terrorized his way across the galaxy for decades, but near the end of Return of the Jedi, he sacrifices himself to kill the Emperor and save Luke. Once he proved he still had good in him, he dies as Anakin Skywalker.

While Christianity has redemption, in Judaism, the vehicle for character transformation is atonement. In the Jewish worldview, people do bad things because they’re messy, finite and human. The task of atonement is to repair the damage you’ve done and return to a place of clarity. Sometimes, there is no making up for what you’ve done, so you find a way to live with that yet still strive to do better. The surest proof of atonement is having the opportunity to make the same mistake as before but choosing differently.

Books can be written about the differences between redemption and atonement, but for the sake of brevity, redemption is fixing who you are, and atonement is fixing what you’ve done.

An example of an atonement narrative would be Xena in Xena: Warrior Princess. As the Destroyer of Nations, Xena spent years in the pursuit of power and conquest, slaughtering countless people. But, inspired by Hercules, she realizes she can do better, so she does. She turns over a new leaf, using her strength, leadership, wits and skill to bring justice to the world and protect those who can’t protect themselves. She’s always struggling with ambition and bloodlust, and her reputation as a bloodthirsty conqueror follows her, but many times throughout the show, she chooses not to kill even if it would be easier for her to just murder the weakling in charge and take over.

I don’t think atonement narratives are particularly rare. It’s just that fandom is so habituated to analyzing stories and characters through the lens of Christian hegemony, usually without even knowing it, that alternative possibilities aren’t recognized, let alone explored or examined.

Let me give you an example. I love Azula from Avatar: The Last Airbender. She’s such a layered, complex character, and she’s so much fun. She is, no contest, my fave. She’s also, in the narrative of the show, a villain. One question that gets asked a lot about her is whether or not she’s redeemable.

At first I didn’t think anything of it. Then I started paying attention to the language people were using to describe Azula, and so much of it has these weird connotations of Original Sin. From the way a lot of people talked about her, it’s as though she’s condemned to damnation from birth and that her behavior is an expression of her morally corrupt nature.

It became deeply unsettling to see so many people flat-out deny the possibility of change for her. The underlying message I get from that? Don’t bother trying to do better. Your moral worth is fixed and immutable, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

This paradigm is so jarring to my Jewish sensibilities. Judaism does not deny that people are capable of wicked deeds. The Talmud is very blunt about each person having an impulse to do good and an impulse to do evil. We all mess up. That’s life. But when we mess up, the path to atonement is always open. We can always repent, seek to repair the harm we’ve done and commit to doing things differently.

To me, that’s more empowering.

[fandom-pardes]

Too Jewish for Word of God

Reposted from my personal Tumblr.

As Ruby x Christina shippers are going through the latest round of Why Are Straight People Like This, it’s really becoming clear to me how much being Jewish informs my perspective when I engage with media, especially when it comes to canon, fanon, Word of God, and so on.

If I had to summarize it while standing on one foot, I’d say, “Yeah, I heard you. Fuck off.”

For you to understand the deep Jewish roots of this response, I need to tell you a story.

So, in the Talmud, there’s this argument between Rabbis (that’s capital-R Rabbis for the Talmudic Rabbis, not lowercase-r rabbis like today) about whether a certain setup for an oven is ritually impure or not. Just…go with it.

One of the Rabbis, Rabbi Eliezer says, “If halacha (Jewish law) is in accordance with my opinion, this carob tree will prove it.”

The carob tree uproots and moves some hundred cubits. The other Rabbis say that halachic proof doesn’t come from the carob tree. Then Rabbi Eliezer gets the stream to flow backwards to prove he’s right. The other Rabbis say that halachic proof doesn’t come from the stream. Then Rabbi Eliezer tries to get the walls of the study hall to come down to prove that he’s right, and walls started to fall, but Rabbi Yehoshua scolded them for interfering, so they didn’t fall, but they didn’t straighten, either. So they leaned.

Finally, Rabbi Eliezer gets the big gun, “If halacha is in accordance with my opinion, heaven will prove it.”

God’s voice speaks from heaven and says, “Why are you arguing with Rabbi Eliezer? He’s right.”

Then Rabbi Yehoshua stands up and says, “You gave us the Torah and told us to abide by that. We don’t listen to heavenly voices in these matters. We go by majority rule, just as You wrote.”

And God smiles and says, “My children have triumphed over me! My children have triumped over me!”

Need I remind you that all this is over an oven? An oven. A fucking oven.

This story is connected to a saying that Jews have about the Torah, “The Torah is not in heaven.”

It’s based on this passage in Devarim (Deuteronomy 30:12): “It [the Torah] is not in the heavens, that you should say, ‘Who among us can go up to the heavens and get it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it?’”

The Torah was created for and given to human beings (specifically, the Jewish people) on earth. What we do with it is up to us and no one else. The Torah is ours to interpret, observe, and wrestle with. Divine miracles, supernatural phenomena, and voices from heaven don’t mean shit.

If I am a member of a people willing to tell the creator of the universe to butt out and let us do our thing, a human artist involved with a television show isn’t gonna phase me much. Misha ‘nem can go, “No homo!” as much as they want, but what they filmed was queer as hell. It’s too late to try to take that back from us now.

[fandom-pardes]

The evil impulse as redeeming trait

Redemption arcs have been a bit of a hot topic lately. I’ve talked a lot about how Western audiences apply Christian norms to these kinds of stories, often at the expense of other ways of conceptualizing moral growth.

One way in particular that it shows up is in the implicit assumption that the only valid reason to do the right thing is because it’s the right thing to do. In other words, the motives of someone seeking to change their ways must be completely altruistic or nothing good they do means anything.

But after a few thousand years of observing human behavior, Jewish tradition says, “Good luck with that.”

Here’s a basic concept. According to Jewish tradition, humans have two basic impulses: a “good” impulse (akin to the Freudian* superego) and an “evil” impulse (akin to the Freudian id). And here’s the thing: both of these are considered holy. They both come from God, and God wants humans to have both. In the Talmud, the Rabbis argue that if not for the “evil” impulse, no one would build a house, start a family, or engage in business. Without the "evil” inclination, the very basis of human society would not exist!

In the Torah, Jews are commanded, “You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might.” In the Mishnah, this is interpreted to mean loving God with both the “good” impulse and the “evil” impulse. YMMV, but, to me, this is a demand for complete intimacy, to bring all of ourselves to what we do. Not just the nice, wholesome stuff, but the ugly, selfish parts too.

So what does this have to do with redemption arcs?

Firstly, the question of whether a character deserves a redemption arc becomes moot. You can start the process of teshuvah at any time. Everyone is free to choose to do better, so no one is beyond hope of change.

For a personal example, consider my girl Azula. There’s been a lot of back-and-forth in fandom about whether she deserves a redemption arc or not.  As some would have it, Azula’s whole life was set in stone from birth, and there’s no hope for her. She’s just evil, and that’s that. How dull. 

A lot of her fans, OTOH, myself included, find her too dynamic and compelling to just throw away. We want better for her character than to be killed off or locked away. She’s only fourteen years old at the end of the show. She has her whole life ahead of her, plenty of time to learn better and do better. With her gifts, she has amazing potential to do a tremendous amount of good. We just want a story exploring how she could get there.

Secondly, the motivation to change doesn’t have to be squeaky clean. As I’ve said before, in Jewish tradition, the important part is the Do The Thing. Think about all the reasons people put in the effort to better themselves. They want their kids to think they’re awesome. They want to look in the mirror without flinching. They want people to be happy to see them. And so on.

Continuing with my Azula example, the way some would have it, the only reason that Azula should seek to change is because she realized she was wrong for what she did and wants to make amends because it’s the right thing to do. Anything short of what would be pointless.

To which Jewish tradition would say (and this is my own interpretation), “What are you expecting here, a miracle?”

Would it be amazing if Azula simply reasoned her way into changing for the better? Absolutely. But if she only starts to change herself because she’s desperately lonely and wants to be the kind of person other people want to be around? Nothing wrong with that. Remember, “with all your heart.” 

Thus, in a roundabout way, it is through the “evil” impulse that people can ultimately redeem themselves and transform their lives.

[fandom-pardes]

Christian normativity and Lovecraft Country

Reposted from my personal blog.

Here’s something you need to wrap your head around. If you were brought up in an environment dominated by Christian culture, Christian norms have shaped the way you conceptualize how the world works, human nature, ethics, religion (even the term religion is Christian-normative), and so on.

It doesn’t matter if you actively practice or believe. IMO, unless you deliberately and consistently expose yourself to different frameworks, you are generally operating from a Christian lens. That’s just how socialization works.

In the case of media and media criticism, the Christian framework shows up in a deeply puritanical streak where good and evil are not actions and choices, but states of being. When a character does something beneficial, it’s because they are good. If they do something harmful, it’s because they are bad.

It also shows up in the ways that fandom discourse seems preoccupied with whether a character’s thoughts, feelings, or actions are morally justified or not, as opposed to understanding where those thoughts, feelings, and actions come from.

Consider Montrose. He does some horrible stuff in this show, and many viewers were upset by the way the narrative went out of its way to explore where those horrific actions come from rather than condemn him for them. Meanwhile, I’m sitting here thinking, “Of course he does that, considering what his experiences have taught him.” But at the time the show was airing, if I’d expressed that openly, I’d have gotten a lot of, “Why are you trying to justify all the bad things Montrose has done?”

*smh*

In Lovecraft Country, the Christian normativity also shows up in the way it tries to shoehorn the plot (especially the finale) into a typical Good vs. Evil (or God vs. Satan—more on this in a bit) narrative even though the characters themselves are too complex for that. Then the show Goes There with the hamfisted way it links Tic with Jesus, all the way down to his martyred blood being the source of salvation, and Christina with Satan or the Antichrist, a morally corrupt enemy of goodness/God who tempts humans to embrace forbidden knowledge (magic) and forbidden pleasures (non-cishet sex).

(IMO, the show did Christina a disservice by making her the ultimate villain because she’s a lot more fun as a wild card. Also, her character is more akin to the tricksters of myth and folklore than the villains of contemporary media. /tangent)

Then there’s the way that, in the US, the legacy of slavery, and later Jim Crow, is seen as a kind of Original Sin, which the show reinforces rather than challenges. In very simplistic terms, Original Sin means that you are automatically morally corrupt from birth, and nothing you do can undo that except faith in Jesus. In other words, you are born bad and condemned to damnation unless you think, feel, and believe the right thing.

This insinuation of Original Sin is most pronounced with how the narrative frames Christina and how viewers respond to her. I’ve seen a lot of people judge her for having the “wrong” thoughts, feelings, beliefs, and attitudes, using that as an argument against her capacity to change and grow. Even the ways she helps and empowers others become automatically suspect because of this “taint.”

*siiiiigh*

Y’all, you have to understand how weird this looks to my Jewish self.

Imagine this rich heiress who kills a bunch of Nazis. She does it for her own reasons that aren’t the least bit altruistic. That’s still fewer Nazis for me to worry about. We can argue about her motives when there are no more Nazis. But for now: Thanks, lady!

But the way some viewers would have it, I’m supposed to be like…

Me: “I know you killed all these Nazis, but do you really care about my people?”

Her: “No.”

Me: “You horrible person! If you don’t care, don’t bother killing any Nazis at all!”

Haha. OK. Sure, Jan.

I’m not gonna go down the rabbit hole of Jewish ethics and moral development, but to summarize Jewish ethics while standing on one foot, the important thing is the Do The Thing. Even though it’s ideal to Do The Thing for the right reasons, whatever it takes to get you to Do The Thing is valid (some conditions about Doing The Other Things apply). Good intentions don’t absolve people of wrongdoing, nor do ulterior motives erase the good that people do.

Furthermore, sin is not a state of being in Jewish tradition. It’s an action or behavior akin to an arrow missing its target. Our job is to fix what we can and try again, failing better until we hit our target.

So Christina crashing her car into truckload of racists matters. Giving Leti enough money to pay for a house matters. Sharing magical secrets with Tic and Ruby matters. Keeping her promise not to harm Leti matters.

Now, if I really wanna get Jewish about this, I’d argue that Christina’s deep yearning for human connection, for family and for love, is what can give her the drive to learn better* and do better. This may strike some with deeply ingrained Christian norms as selfish, or at the very least, self-interested. However, Jewish tradition encourages us to perform mitzvot and other good deeds using both our yetzer hatov (our “good” impulse—think the Freudian** superego) and our yetzer hara (our “evil” impulse—think the Freudian id). Our job is not to suppress or deny the part that wants things for ourselves, but to refine it and channel it toward constructive purposes.

I think that’s about it.

Happy Hanukkah!

*Moral development through learning and study is a hallmark of Jewish ethics. No one is born knowing right from wrong. It has to be taught and cultivated.

**Freud was Jewish, BTW.

[fandom-pardes]

Christina Braithwhite and Jewish ethics

Reposted from my personal Tumblr.

It’s that most wonderful time of the year where we’re gonna be inundated with even more people hollering about a “war on Christmas” because we’re telling people to take measures not to spread a deadly disease to others.

With that in mind, let me give my lonesome Jewish opinions about something I’ve noticed in Lovecraft Country fandom as it relates to their reactions to Christina.

Something that really sticks out to me is that most people don’t really hate Christina for what she does, but for what she says about her thoughts and feelings or what they assume she thinks and feels. They see her express honest apathy (at the time) about Emmet Till and go, “What a terrible person!” Or they see that she offers aid with an ulterior motive and go, “What an evil bitch!”

That’s such a deeply Christian take on morality, and it’s so odd to my Jewish neshama. Because, in Jewish tradition, at the end of the day, what matters most is what you do and say. Even when we’re commanded to love someone, as in, “Love your neighbor as yourself”, what’s being asked of us is not simply to have positive feelings about that person, but to do right by them.

In that vein, good intentions don’t absolve people of wrongdoing, nor do ulterior motives erase the good that people do. Yes, the ideal is to perform good deeds for altruistic reasons, but when it comes down to it, our obligation is to do.

That sense of being obligated to do, not just feel or think, is so strong that Jewish tradition holds it more praiseworthy to perform actions you’re required to than to perform actions purely by emotional compulsion. For one simple example: it’s more praiseworthy to pay your taxes in full and on time than to give a random homeless person a dollar.

So, about Christina…

Yes, she has an agenda. Yes, she seizes opportunities to get closer to her goals. But at the end of the day, she does quite a few things that benefit people other than herself. I’m sure that’s not likely by design, and perhaps despite herself, but she still did them.

Intervenes when Tic, Leti, and George are being pursued by people shooting at them. Did she only do it because she needed Tic for her plans later? Yup. But it’s still pikuach nefesh, and it’s one of the highest Jewish values.

Gives Leti a huge sum of money, enough for at least a down payment for a house in a nice part of town. Was she ultimately after the orrery? Yes. But it’s still an act of tzedakah to give to someone in financial distress.

Keeps her promise not to harm Leti even though this wound up getting her killed.

Plays an instrumental part in eradicating one faction of a cult of racist wizards that has repeatedly inflicted deep harm and extreme violence on people. Her reasons for doing it are entirely personal, but a world with one less lodge for the Order of the Ancient Dawn is a better world.

Killed a police captain who was actively using his authority to inflict violence and terror on others. Again, her reasons were personal, but a world without Lancaster in it is a better world.

Had the means and motive to do a lot worse, but didn’t. This is not praiseworthy, but choosing not to do harm even though you could and would is still better than doing harm.

Do these acts suddenly make her some kind of mensch or one of the 36 Tzaddikim? No! Does she have some serious teshuvah to do? Absolutely. But she’s also nowhere near as diabolical or inhuman as a puritanical Christian worldview would have it.

[fandom-pardes]

A Jewish Evil Regal perspective on redemptive suffering

Reposted from my personal Tumblr.

“The Jewish perspective is that this world is the focus and therefore suffering stinks and should be minimized. Christianity holds that the next world is more important than this world and that suffering ennobles.” –Luke Ford, “Jewish vs. Christian Views on Suffering”

“[T]he idea that suffering horribly should make people more morally attuned, and behave more ethically […] is more a fatuous truism than an authentic truth. The notion that suffering makes anyone better may have deep intuitive and socio-cultural roots, especially in Christian tradition, but it is far from a demonstrable axiom.

"The historical record suggests that survivors of the Holocaust did not necessarily emerge as more sensitive to human suffering than people who had not gone through the Holocaust. Nor should they have. Since there is no such thing as an archetypical Holocaust survivor, there is no such thing as a typical response. Each person entered the Holocaust with his or her distinctive characteristics, endured a unique set of Holocaust-related circumstances and emerged from the Holocaust with his or her own personal perceptions, lessons and conclusions. Undoubtedly, some survivors emerged with a heightened awareness toward human suffering and a resultant moral sensibility, but obviously others did not. The only common denominator regarding the suffering of the Holocaust is that it inevitably included extreme pain and left an indelible scar.” –Robert Rozett, “Suffering Doesn’t Beget Moral Capital”

These are a direct contradiction to one of the one of the more pervasive underlying assumptions behind people’s interpretations of Regina’s behavior. Namely, that the suffering she endured should have ennobled her in some way. That she could, and should, without any help whatsoever, be able to shrug off the effects of years of abuse, trauma, and manipulation to make healthy, positive decisions.

By contrast, this perspective suggests otherwise. It seems to ask that when a young woman is subjected to great torment, what the hell do you expect to happen?

“Central to the Jewish response to suffering is a staunch rejection of the belief in its redemptive power. […] It leads to a tortured spirit and a pessimistic outlook on life. It scars our psyches and brings about a cynical consciousness, devoid of hope. Suffering causes us to dig out uncertainty in the hearts of our fellows and to be envious of other people’s happiness. If individuals do become better as a result of their suffering, it is despite the fact that they suffered, not because of it. Ennobling of character comes from triumph over suffering, rather than its endurance.” –Schmuley Boteach, Judaism for Everyone: Renewing Your Life Through the Vibrant Lessons of the Jewish Faith“

This is an interesting rebuttal of the idea that people earn happiness because they are good. In fact, it seems to imply the inverse: that a certain measure of happiness is necessary for us to do good.

Despite what we say about free will and our choices, what the above quote suggests is that in the Jewish worldview, suffering undermines our ability to make real choices because we’re constantly struggling against the effects of our trauma or unconsciously acting it out.

This is not fatalism. It’s acknowledging that where we come from and what we’ve gone through have powerful impacts on the choices we can make. Some of us–perhaps most–have learned some limiting or destructive things about ourselves and about life, and if approached by the right person in the right way at the right time, we can learn new ways. But we can’t always know or do that without help.

"In Judaism, suffering doesn’t define us. Our ability to respond to the suffering of others does. We don’t see suffering as expiation or cleansing of sin, as do some other faiths.” –Laurie Zoloth, interview

“So many people search for a reason why people suffer. They want to redeem tragedy by giving it meaning. Suffering ennobles the spirit, they say. It makes you more mature. It helps you focus on what’s important in life.

"I would argue that suffering has no purpose, no redeeming qualities, and any attempts to infuse it with rich significance are deeply misguided.

"Of course suffering can lead ultimately to a positive outcome. […] But does it have to come about this way? Is suffering the only way to learn goodness?

"Jewish values maintain that there is no good that comes from suffering that could not have come through a more blessed means. […]

"Here is another way that Jewish values are so strongly distinguished from other value systems. Many religions believes that suffering is redemptive. […]

"But Judaism, in prophesying a perfect Messianic future where there is no death or pain ultimately rejects the suffering-is-redemptive narrative. Suffering isn’t a blessing, it’s a curse. Jews are obligated to alleviate all human misery. Suffering leaves you bitter rather than blessed, scarred rather than humble. Few endure suffering without serious and lasting trauma. […]” –Schmuley Boteach, “No Holds Barred: The Truth About Suffering”

If suffering creates Evil Queens, these quotes imply that even more suffering is not going to redeem an Evil Queen. At this point, wishing more suffering on someone who has already suffered so much is not instructive but sadistic. Even if she brought a lot of it on herself, indifference toward her suffering or hoping that she suffers even more simply does not work. It only creates an endless loop of pain and misery.

And if Jews wanted eternal damnation for their sins, they would have become Christians.

[fandom-pardes]

What is this blog for?

This is a place for me to put all the Jewish-themed meta and analysis I did over the years in a place where I won’t scare anyone off by accidentally showing them my fanfic.

This is just my personal thing, but feel free to tag this blog if you have or come across similar content.