@aaronthe8thdemon asks:

I’m writing a historical fiction around a real-life event (Chernobyl) and am basing the characters around real people rather than using actual names. During the catastrophe, a Jewish American doctor went to Moscow to provide aid to critically irradiated patients, and… concisely, I may be overthinking this, but I’m concerned about “how Jewish” to make the character. In his memoir he admits his Jewishness is kind of lax but I don’t want it to look like I’ve skipped out on research and got lazy representing him because that’s a problem in a lot of media.

I’m currently converting to Judaism myself. But, AFAIK, he’s still alive in real life and I don’t want to be insulting by insinuating that he’s “not Jewish enough” by making it too visible/going over the top. I haven’t begun writing the pertinent parts of the narrative yet because this dilemma is anxiety-provoking, and I’d appreciate any advice/opinions the Jewish mods might have, even if it’s just that I’m overthinking it. PS, thank you for running this blog, I know it’s a lot of work and I’ve learned so much by following you.

If you do research and write a historical figure accurately and someone takes issue with your accurate portrayal because it doesn’t fit their needs for representation, that seems misguided of them. We don’t have the same control over reality and history that we do over fiction, where we get to make all of the choices.

I guess the key is to not make this person’s secular Jewishness/lax Jewishness “loaded”, like stop letting it take up space. You know how I’m half German? I’m also a good portion Polish, on the other side, but I never talk about it or think about it because that half of my family turned their backs on Poland entirely because of antisemitic abuse (if you want to get into why the German side didn’t considering they had even worse reasons, that’s a whole separate topic about German Jewish identity but anyway). But I don’t walk around like “oh I am DISCONNECTED from my POLISHKEIT i am SO LAX at being POLISH” it’s just not… relevant?

Him being secular or whatnot is reality (apparently; I don’t know the guy), but the slant of your writing, the way your writing interprets that secularness, is on you and your tone and your approach. So if you are looking at born-Jews who are whatever about Jewishness a certain way because you’re currently doing all that intense study just to join the tent, that might be a good thing to go back and filter out on an editing pass.

–S

It’s true that I’ve called for more representation of Jewish people who fall outside the false dichotomy of Orthodox/Secular, so I think I have a responsibility to clarify that neither of those are inherently bad representation OR bad ways of being Jewish. No single instance of a Jewish character being shown as either Orthodox or nonpracticing is the problem, and a narrative that frames either as being bad is engaging in antisemitism even if Jewish people are involved in the production. The problem isn’t that both of those extremes gets portrayed but that the majority that exists between them never does. That said, you’re portraying a real person, not inventing a fictional character.

If you choose to erase the complexity of his real-life Jewish decisions–and I hope that in the course of this project you’re doing much more research into the realities for Soviet Jewry than I could handily include in this blog post–then that’s not as much better representation of someone like me than it is an implication that there’s something wrong with being someone like him. It denies the dignity of a nonpracticing Jewish identity, and that feels to me like more harm than an accurate and respectful portrayal of a real-life historical figure who did not, in his lifetime, engage in Jewish ritual practice. 

It’s true that you’re fictionalizing the characters, and if your other characters are notably different than their inspirations it does less harm than if he were the only one fundamentally altered, but even so it feels like saying that ritually observant Jews are more “real” than nonpracticing ones. 

Instead, as you research for this project and your upcoming conversion, I encourage you to look for clues to a Jewish outlook in the words and life of the real-life person. This is a doctor, someone who traveled to try to save lives and give comfort, and I defy the idea that because he did not observe ritual practice those choices were without basis in Jewish values. 

-Meir

WWC Follower Asks:

My character is Ashkenazi Jewish and living in modern America (raised in New York, moved to the Pacific North West). He has magical talent, which presents itself in auto writing (speaking with spirits using himself as a conduit), and necromancy/death magic. I understand the Torah forbids it, and the Talmud acknowledges its existence, and read a previous answer you did regarding it. I intended to add this aspect to my character because prior to writing this magical talent, as the plot unfolded while I wrote, the character was already established as Jewish and I did not wish to erase that from him. His personal arc/story itself has a strong point of residual hauntings and healing from the past, which was how the mediumship came to exist.

At this point, I am writing it as he is learning his talent, and he intends to do as little harm to the dead as possible (he will not be reanimating people). In addition, necromancy can also work in this world as a form of animancy (using the soul) to do magic. My character is against taking that energy from others (as is it is common for necromancers to take the energy of the deceased by force), and instead will tap into himself, or utilize it if it is willingly donated by another person.

It possible to make this work?

Are there any severe taboos involved with the idea of using soul/life energy to fuel magic that I have missed in my research? What’s your personal threshold for this idea?

One very culturally Jewish way to handle it would be if he has to bulk up and eat a lot of nourishing Bubbe (“eat eat!!”) style meals when he’s gonna talk to the spirits or sheydim or whatever bc he’s using his own life essence to fuel the connection like “if i want to do this i need to eat 2 helpings of brisket first”.

That leans heavily into emphasizing that he is drawing on his own energy, maybe he has to eat enough food for himself and the dead person too, and not sapping the strength of another (an antisemitic trope)

-Shira

I absolutely LOVE the idea of him eating for the dead person, and I think it’s Jewish by vibes even if not drawing on something specific from text (that I know of). I definitely would be wary of any magic where the other souls are diminished by working with him even if he doesn’t do it intentionally, but it sounds like you’re already on that.

I wonder also if he might take upon himself the responsibility to recite Kaddish for the deceased people he works with, to make up for disturbing them–especially if rather than recite the prayer on his own, he attends a synagogue service or gathers a minyan (prayer quorum of 10 adult Jews) to recite the prayer “Correctly,” since, some very sweet Tumblr lore aside, Kaddish is one of those prayers not traditionally recited without a minyan.

-Meir

@run-remi-run asks:

Hello, I’m developing a teen character living in Michigan and have been considering making her/her family Jewish; however I’m worried they’ll fall into the evil Jewish person stereotype. The teen is the protagonist of her story, but she is pressured into killing at least one person. I understand that villains in media being portrayed as Jewish or with Jewish features has furthered antisemitism, and I understand my character isn’t exempt from this just because I see her in a positive light. Should I refrain from making her Jewish?

This doesn’t fit the stereotype

If the whole idea is that she’s pressured into doing bad things, that doesn’t fit the stereotype or trope at all because the trope has us as evil masterminds but in your scenario she’s the one being manipulated. The negative trope isn’t just “Jewish person does something bad” it’s a lot more specific than that.
-Shira

Any Michigan influences?

Commenting strictly as a Michigan resident: is there any reason why you included the character’s Michigander origins in your question? Is there something about Michigan that’s influencing how you think a Jewish character might be depicted or viewed by others in your story? I’m asking not to be interrogatory, but out of curiosity and need for clarification.

–Jess

Evil Jewish person stereotype

Shira’s answer speaks directly to this and a lot more concisely, but I wanted to take a minute and go deeper into the phrase “Evil Jewish person stereotype,” for the sake of helping break down what’s actually happening and why it works the ways that it does.

There are two forces at work here, not unrelated to each other but not identical either. One is the portrayal of evil characters using tropes that suggest Jewish coding, and the other is a cultural suspicion of Jewish people’s motives and actions. They’re two sides of the same coin, perhaps, but I’d like to look at them separately, since the difference–that one refers to fictional characters and the other to actual people–matters in the context of reading and writing fiction.

Jewish coding in Villain characters

There are aspects of a character’s physical appearance that can suggest Jewishness even as we acknowledge that Jewish individuals don’t necessarily match those looks. Those might include a hooked nose, hair that is curly or red, a sallow complexion, an angular face. These attributes are not inherently bad: a text portraying them is antisemitic when these attributes are a visual signal of bad motives or are only present in bad characters and not good ones. Although not at issue here, it’s worth noting that these attributes can also raise questions in settings where all Jewish characters have them, because the flip side of these attributes being used to denote Jewishness is the erasure of Jewish people who don’t have these looks. 

 There are also aspects of a character’s personality that are repetitions of historical accusations against Jews, justifications for violence or persecution rather than reflections of genuine events. These might include greed, arrogance, bloodthirstiness, and a willingness to hurt or kill children for personal gain. These tropes have accrued over centuries in spite of the fact that every single one of them runs counter to any genuine Jewish values because ultimately, they’re not based on real-world actions by real-life Jewish people, but a product of leader after leader over time riling up their followers into dehumanizing a minority population, for the usual reasons people have for dehumanizing minority populations. 

Jewish coding in villain characters is not necessarily the same as stereotyping Jewish people as being evil. It does however support and maintain unconscious antisemitic biases. That is to say, when you meet someone who is Jewish, you’re not necessarily thinking “Mother Gothel was coded with Jewish tropes so this Jewish person probably is evil,” but if someone shows you a picture of a person with a hooked nose and curly hair and says “this person is greedy and hurts children,” exposure to Mother Gothel and other fictional villains on the same model might make you less likely to say “That doesn’t sound right.” 

Meanwhile, back in Michigan

Like Shira said, your character is not the mastermind of the murder she’s being forced into. Rather, she’s a victim of whatever character or circumstance is forcing her into it. As long as that’s apparent in your narrative, you’re not supporting an existing harmful trope or stereotype. I would treat the concept differently if this were, for instance, a dark narrative of a remorseless killer. In the current climate I would also advise against any imagery of a Jewish person of any age or agency killing a child or person of color of any kind, as that is the latest iteration of the medieval blood libel in modern times.  I would even have pause in this situation, where she’s not the author of her own act but does commit it, if she does not experience remorse or if she enjoys doing it. What matters here is her motive. 

If this character is Jewish, then that’s going to affect her approach to the incident in certain ways. While Christian and Christian-influenced secular culture regard “good” and “bad” as the ultimate thing to worry about, even at the cost of martyrdom or murder, Judaism places life as the highest value. There are very few of the laws and customs of Jewish life that one is not expected to break in order to avoid death, but one of those is murder. Now, Jewish characters make choices that aren’t perfectly consistent with Jewish law all the time, so what I’m asking is not to not write this, but to write it on purpose.

• What does it do to your character?
• Who is she before and after?
• How many of us could truly choose to die rather than kill in her situation?
• Does she own perhaps a necklace or decor item with the word “חי” on it?
• What does seeing it do to her?
• In what other ways does her Jewishness make her interesting and relevant as a character?

If it’s just curly hair and matzah ball soup on an otherwise Christian character, why bother. But if you’re willing to put in the time to research Jewish attitudes toward life and death and how they differ–even and especially in a teenager’s schema–from the Christian and Christian-influenced majority conception, then there’s room for an interesting narrative here. 

-Meir 

Anonymous asked:

I have a short story planned revolving around the supernatural with a Jewish character named Danielle (who uses they/them pronouns). Danielle will be one of a trio who will be solving the mystery of two brides’ deaths on the day of their wedding. My concern with this is the possibility of accidentally invalidating Danielle’s religion by focusing on a secular view of the afterlife. At the same time, I don’t want to assume that Jewish people can’t exist in paranormal stories, nor do I want to use cultural elements that don’t belong to me. So, how do I make sure that Danielle is included in the plot without erasing their Jewishness?

Okay so to start with I think we need to ask a question about the premise: what is a secular afterlife? I’m not asking this to nitpick or be petty, but to offer you expanded ways of thinking through this issue and maybe others as well.

A Secular Afterlife

What is a secular afterlife? To begin with, I get what you mean. The idea of an afterlife we see in pop culture entities like ghost media owes more to a mixture of 19th-century spiritualist tropes drawn from titillating gothic novels than to anything preached from the pulpit of an organized house of worship. Yet those tropes–the ominous knocking noises from beyond, the spectral presences on daguerrotype prints, the sudden chill and the eerie glow, all of those rely on the idea of there being something beyond this life, some continuation of the spirit when the body has ceased to breathe. For that, you need to discount the ideas that the consciousness has moved on to another physical body and is currently living elsewhere, and that it was never separate from the body and has now ceased to exist. Can we say that this is secular?

More so: Gothic literature, as the name suggests, draws heavily on Catholic imagery, even when it avoids explicit references to Catholicism. Aside from the architectural imagery, Catholic religious symbols permeate the genre, as well as the larger horror and supernatural media genres that grew from it: Dracula flinches from a crucifix, priests expel demons from human bodies, Marley’s Ghost haunts Ebenezer Scrooge in chains. The concepts of heaven and hell, and nonhuman beings who dwell in those places, are critical to making the narratives work. 

The basis also draws from a biblical story, that of the Witch of Endor. The main tropes of Victorian spiritualism are present: Saul never sees the ghost of Samuel, only the Witch of Endor is able to see “A divine being rising” from wherever he rises from, and her vague description, “I see an old man rising, wearing a robe,” evokes the cold readings of charlatan mediums into the present (Indeed, some rabbinic sources commenting on this assert that this is exactly what was going on).

While neither of these views of its origin define the genre as the sole property of Catholicism–or of Judaism for that matter–it would be hard exactly to categorize them as secular.

A Jewish Perspective on ghosts

However, it’s not the case that ghost media is incompatible with Jewishness, assuming that it doesn’t commit to a view of heaven and hell duality that specifically embraces a Christian spiritual framework. 

Jewish theology is noncommittal on the subject of the afterlife. The idea of a division between body and soul in the first place is found in ancient Egypt, for instance, earlier than the earliest Jewish texts. In Jewish text it’s present in narratives like the creation story, in which God crafts a human body out of earth and then breathes life into it once it’s complete. It also appears in our liturgy: the blessings prescribed to be recited at the beginning of the day juxtapose Elohai Neshama, a blessing for the soul, with Asher Yatzar, expressing gratitude for the body, recited by many after successfully using the bathroom. 

Yet it’s not clear that this life-force is something separate than the body that lives beyond it, until the apparition of the Witch of Endor. The words we use to describe it, whatever it is, evoke the process of breathing rather than that of eternal life: either ruach (spirit, or wind) or neshama (soul, or breath): neither is a commitment to the idea that it does–or that it doesn’t–go somewhere else when the body returns to the earth. 

Jewish folklore, however, leans into the idea of ghosts and other spiritual beings inhabiting the earthly plane (and others). Perhaps most famous is the 1937 movie The Dybbuk, in which a young scholar engaging in kabbalistic practices calls upon dark forces to unite him and his fated love, only to find himself possessing her body as a dybbuk. It appears that he is about to be successfully exorcized, but ultimately when his soul leaves her body, hers does as well. 

More relevantly to your story, a Jewish folktale inspired the movie The Corpse Bride. In the folktale version, a newly-engaged man jokingly recites the legal formula he will soon recite at his wedding, and places his ring on the finger of a nearby corpse–a reference to a time when antisemitic violence is said to have gotten worse not only at Jewish and Christian holidays as it does still to this day, but around Jewish weddings as well. The murdered bride stands up, a corpse reanimated complete with consciousness, and demands that the bridegroom honor his legal obligation. 

In the movie, the bride gives up her demand willingly: her claim on him is emotional rather than legal, and she finally accepts that he has an emotional connection with another person, that he doesn’t love her. In the folk tale, the dead woman takes him to court to decide whether their marriage is legal, since he spoke the legal words to her in front of witnesses as is required, and the court rules that the dead do not have the right to make legal demands on the living. In this version, the moral of the story is that a legal formula is an obligation; that when he jokingly bound himself to the corpse, he not only disrespected the dead but also the legal framework that structures society, and by so doing risked being obligated to keep his side of a contract he never intended to enact. 

This speaks to the ways that a Jewish outlook can differ from a Christian-influenced “secular” one. Christian-influenced cultural ideas can often focus around feeling the right thing, while Jewish stories will often center on doing the right thing. Does the Corpse Bride leave because she realizes she is not the one he loves? Because she–or he–learned a valuable lesson? Or because she loses her court case? It’s not that the boy’s emotions are irrelevant to the story–the tension, the suspense, the horror of the story takes place primarily within the boy’s emotional landscape–but emotions on their own are not a solution. The question “should he marry her” can be answered emotionally, but “has he married her” can only be answered by a legal expert, and once it has been the deceased bride may not have changed her emotional attachment to him, but she no longer has legal standing to pursue her claim. 

Centering legal rectitude over emotional catharsis isn’t a requirement for having Jewish characters in your story, but it’s worth thinking about what is and isn’t universal, what is and isn’t actually all that secular. 

Meanwhile, back at the topic:

Where does any of this place Danielle?

Well, unless you’re positing a universe in which Christian or other deities or cosmologies are confirmed to exist (See Jewish characters in a universe with author-created fictional pantheons for more on that topic), there’s no reason why they shouldn’t be perfectly fine interacting with whatever the setting you’re building throws at them. 

My wishlist for this character and setting runs more to the general things to consider when writing fantasy settings with Jewish characters: 

• Don’t confirm or imply that Jesus is a divine being. That means no supernatural items like splinters of the cross, grails, nails, veils, etc. There’s nothing particularly powerful or empowering about this one guy who lived and died like so many others.
• Don’t show God’s body and especially not God’s face, or confirm that any other gods or deities exist, whether that’s Jesus, Aphrodite, or Anubis, or someone you made up for the context. 
• Don’t put Danielle in a position where they’re going to play into an antisemitic trope like child murder, blood drinking, world domination, or financial greed. If you have to, name it and let Danielle express discomfort with or distaste for those actions both because Jewish values explicitly oppose all of those things but also because Danielle as a Jewish character would be painfully aware of these stereotypes as present and historical excuses for antisemitic violence. 
• Do consider what Danielle’s personal practice might look like. What does Danielle do on Shabbat? What do they eat or refrain from eating? What are their memories of Jewish holidays and how is their current holiday observance different than their childhood? I know I say “Jewishness is diverse” on every ask, but it is, and these questions–which also underscore how very much Judaism is rooted in one’s actions during this life–will help you develop how Judaism actually functions to inform Danielle’s character, even if you don’t spell out the answers to each of these questions in text. 
• Do let Danielle find joy, comfort, and identity in their Jewishness not just in contrast with Christianity but simply because it’s part of the wholeness of their character. I know the primary representation of Jewishness is a snappy one-liner in a Christmas episode followed by the Jewish character joining in the Christmas spirit, blue edition, but make room for Jewishness to inform how Danielle approaches the events of your story, or why they decide to get or stay involved.  

-Meir

Hi it’s Shira with some Jewish ghost story recs written from inside–

When The Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb (deliriously good queer YA Jewish paranormal, mainstream enough that it’s got a good chance of being at your local library and won all kinds of awards)

The Dyke and the Dybbuk by Ellen Galford (sorry for the slur, warning for a paragraph of biphobia in the book but it’s an older book. I read this right before my divorce so my memories are super fuzzy but it’s about this modern day lesbian who gets possessed by the ghost of a different lesbian from hundreds of years earlier in Jewish history.)
Nine of Swords Reversed by Xan West z’L of blessed memory - another queer Jewish paranormal.

The general plot is that two partners are struggling with how to be honest with each other about the effect disability is having on them. It’s got a very warm and fuzzy cozy vibe but kink culture is central to the worldbuilding so if that isn’t your vibe I didn’t want you to go in unaware.

The Dybbuk in Love by Sonya Taaffe. I don’t remember the details but I remember loving it, it’s m/f and romance between possessor and possessed.

I wrote a really short one called A Man of Taste where a gentile vampire woman and a Jewish ghost/dybbuk get together.

~S

@pixiedustandpetrichor asked:

Hi! I am writing a novel with three main female characters in an interplanetary setting. They grow up as orphans in an Irish-coded country and as children are mostly exposed to solely that culture, but they leave after becoming adults.

Character A is Tuareg-coded, B Mongolian-coded, and C is Germanic-coded. It isn’t central to the story, but I would like them to get in touch with/learn more about their ancestral cultures, especially in terms of religion. A does this by actually visiting the planet her parents came from, but B and C do not.

What can I do to depict their relationships with said cultures and their journey to reconnect with them? Would it be realistic for each of them to have different mixed feelings about participating in these cultures and for them to retain some sense of belonging to the culture they grew up in as well? Thank you for your time.

Hello, asker! WWC doesn’t have Tuareg or Mongol mods at the moment, so we’re not able to speak to the specifics of cultural and religious reconnection for these particular groups. Still, I want to take this opportunity to provide some general context and elements to consider when writing Tuareg-coded characters, or other characters from groups that have experienced colonization in the real world. My fellow mods will then share thoughts about cultural reconnection in general and with respect to Germanic heritage in particular.

Drawing inspiration from groups that have experienced colonization

As you’re probably aware, the Tuareg are an ethnic group indigenous to North Africa. As with many indigenous groups, they have experienced colonization multiple times over the course of their history. Colonization often leads to the loss or erasure of certain aspects of culture as the colonized people are pressured to conform to the culture of the dominant group. In many cases, it’s near impossible to say what the ancestral culture of a colonized group was prior to colonization.

When coding a fictional culture based on a group that was colonized in the real world, it’s important to ask questions about:

• Which aspects of culture you’re portraying
• Where these aspects come from
• Whether you’re ready to tackle their implications for the world you’re building

It’s not necessarily wrong to use elements of coding that draw from cultural aspects influenced by colonization. As I said, it can be very difficult, even impossible, to portray a “pure” culture as it would have been had colonization not occurred–because we simply can’t know what that alternate history would look like, and because so much has been lost or intentionally suppressed that the gaps in our knowledge are too wide to breach. But it’s important to be aware of where these cultural elements are coming from.

Where is your coding coming from and what are the implications?

For example, while the Tuareg today are majoritarily Muslim, this was not the case prior to the Arab conquest of North Africa. Some elements of Tuareg culture today, such as tea ceremonies, are derived from the influence of Arab and Muslim culture and likely did not exist prior to the 20th century. As you’re developing the culture of the Tuareg-coded group in your fictional setting, you have to decide whether to include these elements. There is no right answer–it will depend on what you’re trying to do and why.

Is your setting in our far future, in which case we can assume your Tuareg-coded group is distantly related to today’s Tuareg?

In that case, they will probably have kept many cultural aspects their ancestors acquired through their interactions with other cultures around them–including cultural groups that colonized them. They may–let’s build hopeful worlds!–have reclaimed aspects of their ancestral culture they’d been forced to abandon due to colonization. They may also have acquired new aspects of culture over time. This can be very fun to explore if you have the time and space to do so.

I would recommend speaking with Tuareg people to get a better grasp of how they see their culture evolving over the next however many centuries or millennia, what they wish to see and what seems realistic to them.

Alternatively, maybe your setting is a secondary world unrelated to ours and you only want to draw inspiration from the real-world Tuareg, not represent them exactly. In that case, you need to decide which period of history you’re drawing from, as Tuareg culture is different today from what it was 50 years ago, and different still from 200 years ago or 1000 years ago. You’ll need to research the historical period you’re choosing in order to figure out what was happening at that time and what the cultural influences were. If it’s pre-colonial, you’ll probably want to avoid including cultural elements influenced by colonization from groups that arrived later on.

Finally, if the time period you’re drawing from is post-colonial:

• Are you planning to account for the effects of colonization on Tuareg culture?
• Will you have an in-world equivalent for the colonization that occurred in real life?
• For example, will the Tuareg-coded characters in your world be from a nomadic culture that was forced to become sedentary over the years and lost much of their traditions due to colonial pressure to conform?
• Where did this pressure come from in your world–is it different from what happened in ours? If so, how different? And what are the consequences?

Writing about colonization can be quite the baggage to bring into a fictional setting. I’m not saying it can’t be done, but it will certainly require sensitivity and care in portraying it.

In summary: think it through

I’m not saying all this to discourage you, but to point out some of the considerations at play when drawing inspiration from a real-life culture that has experienced colonization. Similar challenges arise for coding based on any other indigenous group in the world.

My advice to you, then, is to first sit down and decide where and when in history your coding is coming from, and what you’re trying to achieve with it. This will help you figure out:

• which elements of contemporary Tuareg culture are pertinent to include
• How much your coding will be influenced by the Tuareg’s real-life history
• To what extent that will inform the rest of the world you’re creating

This, in turn, may help in deciding how to portray your character’s reconnection journey.

Again, I am not Tuareg and this is by no means meant to be an exhaustive list of considerations for writing Tuareg-coded characters, only a few places to start.

If any Tuareg or Amazigh readers would like to chime in with suggestions of their own, please do. As always, please make sure your comments adhere to the WWC code of conduct.

- Niki

Pulling from diaspora and TRA narratives of cultural reconnection

Marika here: This ask plotline could also pull directly from diaspora and TRA narratives of cultural reconnection. Many diaspora and TRA cultural reconnection stories are, in effect, about navigating the difficult process of resuscitating, or renewing ties to culture using limited resources in environments that often lack necessary cultural infrastructure or scaffolding.

See this question here to the Japanese team for suggestions of how to handle such a storyline in a similar sci-fi setting.

More reading: Japanese-coded girl from future

-Marika

Reconnecting with German heritage

Hi, it’s Shira. I’m not sure whether German-Jewish counts as Germanic for the purposes of your post but since German Jews were more assimilated than other Ashkies, Germanness does feel real and relevant to my life (especially because my father worked there for approximately the last decade of his life.) NOTE: when I see “Germanic” vs German I think of cultures from 1500 years ago, not 100-200 years ago, so I can’t help you there, but I’d be surprised as a reader if a character focused on that for reconnection to the exclusion of the 19th century etc.

Keep reading

Depicting Real World Religions Alongside Constructed Religions

Maya asked:

Hi WWC! Thank you so much for this blog, it’s an infinitely wonderful resource!

Do you have any suggestions for how I can balance representation of real religions with fantasy religions, or should I avoid including these together? Does the fact that certain things bleed over from our world into the fantasy world help legitimize the appearance of real world religions?

I feel like I can come up with respectful ways to integrate representation in ways that make sense for the worldbuilding. For instance, no Muslim characters would practice magic, and both Jewish and Muslim characters would conceive of magic in ways that fit their religion (rather than trying to adapt real religions to fit my worldbuilding).

I also have some ideas for how these religions came about that fit between handwave and analogous history (though I realize the Qur'an is unchangeable, so I’m guessing Islam would have come about in the same way as IRL). BTW—I’m referring to humans, not other species coded as Muslim or Jewish. I may explore the concept of jinns more (particularly as how Muslims perceive fantastical beings), but I definitely need to do a lot more research before I go down that road!

Finally, I saw a post somewhere (*but* it might have been someone else’s commentary) suggesting to integrate certain aspects of Judaism (e.g., skullcaps in sacred places/while praying, counting days from sundown instead of sunset) into fantasy religions (monotheistic ones, of course) to normalize these customs, but as a non-Jewish person I feel this could easily  veer into appropriation-territory. 

*One of the posts that I’m referring to in case you need a better reference of *my* reference: defining coding and islam-coded-fantasy

[This long ask was redacted to pull out the core questions asked]

“Both Jewish and Muslim characters would conceive of magic in ways that fit their religion (rather than trying to adapt real religions to fit my worldbuilding).”

Just a note that while having religion be part of magic is a legitimate way to write fantasy, I want to remind people that religious characters can also perform secular magic. Sometimes I feel like people forget about that particular worldbuilding option. (I feel this one personally because in my own books I chose to make magic secular so that my nonmagical heroine wouldn’t seem less close to God somehow than her wizard adoptive dad, who is an objectively shadier person.) I’m not saying either way is more or less correct or appropriate, just that they’re both options and I think sometimes people forget about the one I chose. But anyway moving on—

Your decision to make the water spirits not actual deities is a respectful decision given the various IRL monotheistic religions in your story, so, thank you for that choice. I can see why it gets messy though, since some people in-universe treat those powers as divine. I guess as long as your fantasy Jews aren’t being depicted as backwards and wrong and ignoring in-universe reality in favor of in-universe incorrect beliefs, then you’re fine…

“I saw a post somewhere (but it might have been someone else’s commentary) suggesting to integrate certain aspects of Judaism (e.g., skullcaps in sacred places/while praying, counting days from sundown instead of sunset) into fantasy religions (monotheistic ones, of course) to normalize these customs, but as a non-Jewish person I feel this could easily veer into appropriation-territory.”

That was probably us, as Meir and I both feel that way. What would make it appropriative is if these very Jewish IRL markers were used to represent something other than Judaism. It’s not appropriative to show Jewish or Jewish-coded characters wearing yarmulkes or marking one day a week for a special evening with two candles or anything else we do if it’s connected to Jewishness! To disconnect the markers of us from us is where appropriation starts to seep in.

–Shira

To bounce off what Shira said above, the source of the magic can be religious or secular–or put another way, it can be explicitly granted be a deity or through engagement with a specific religious practice, or it can be something that can be accessed with or without engaging with a certain set of beliefs or practices. It sounds like you’re proposing the second one: the magic is there for anyone to use, but the people in this specific religion engage with it through a framework of specific ideas and practices.

If you can transform into a “spirit” by engaging with this religion, and I can transform into a “spirit” through an analogous practice through the framework of Kabbalah, for example, and an atheist can transform through a course of secular technical study, then what makes yours a religion is the belief on your part that engaging in the process in your specific way, or choosing to engage in that process over other lifestyle choices, is in some way a spiritual good, not the mechanics of the transformation. If, on the other hand, humans can only access this transformative magic through the grace of the deities that religion worships, while practitioners of other religions lack the relationship with the only gods empowered to make that magic, that’s when I’d say you had crossed into doing more harm than good by seeking to include real-world religions.

Including a link below to a post you might have already seen that included the “religion in fantasy worldbuilding alignment chart.” It sounds like you’re in the center square, which is a fine place to be. The center top and bottom squares are where I typically have warned to leave real-world religions out of it.

More reading:

Jewish characters in a universe with author-created fictional pantheons

–Meir

Anonymous asked:

Hello! Mixed Latin American nonbinary Jew here. I’m working on a, relatively light-hearted, isekai-style fantasy comic concept of an afro-latine Jewish lady who gets sent through a portal to a colorful scifi/fantasy land, inhabitated by various imaginary creatures sorta like in Alice in Wonderland. She gains magic powers and goes on adventures, working as a scientist researching the land’s magical energy. (some of the local creatures she befriends are entirely original species, and some are inspired by my local folklore, but otherwise I try to avoid culturally coding the creatures since they’re mostly nonhuman looking).

The story isn’t supposed to touch any heavy topics like antisemitism or racism, but I’ve read about the cultural problems in “"normie protagonist finds a new home in a funky fantasy world”“ stories, f.ex. how Harry Potter’s narrative basically implies that Muggleborns have to abandon their original cultures in order to successfully integrate into the very prejudiced but ”“cooler”“ Wizarding World.

My original goal was to break the mold that escapism fantasy usually revolves around white protagonists adventuring in heavily Western-inspired fantasy worlds, and poc-coded characters are usually nonhuman creatures or racial stereotypes. However the protagonist girl in my story comes from a loving, latine-jewish human family, and while she regularly visits them on Earth instead of just staying in the fantasy land 24/7, I’m afraid that making her story be about being happy adventuring in a separate imaginary land filled with nonhuman characters might turn into an ”“abandon your family and culture”“ narrative.

Are there any ways how I could avoid this? Maybe making the fantasy land’s worldbuilding and designs more Latin American or Jewish inspired and thus resonate more with her cultural background, or making it clear that the land is not ”“perfect”“ and she still loves her family?

One of the first things that stands out to me is that you haven’t set her up to need to abandon her culture in order to make a life in another place. She has the ability to go home and visit her family, but I also don’t see any reason why, if she lives primarily in the fantasy land, she couldn’t be portrayed as practicing Judaism actively in her new home. It’s true that Judaism isn’t solely defined by religious/cultural practices, but it’s also true that religious/cultural practices are one of the most recognizable and most uniting elements of Jewish identity.

I think it might help in this case to think about Jewish practices in terms of communal versus personal: that is, what are practices she would need to seek out a Jewish community for, and what are practices she can do independently?

Does she control when she is able to visit her family? If so, visiting for Jewish holidays so that she can be at a family meal or holiday services seems like a way to highlight that she is just as connected to her family as someone who moved to a different city might be. If she experiences/has experienced the death of a family member or partner, going home to be with a Jewish community for shiva or to say kaddish on a yahrzeit is another touch (for readers who may be unfamiliar, Jewish mourning practices are intensely communal and are intentional about bringing the mourner into an active support system and slowly reintroducing them to the world, and as such a mourner is likely to spend this time somewhere where they can access and be supported by a Jewish community).

As far as practices she can engage with on her own in the fantasy setting, it would be nice to see her observing Shabbat, either in a traditional way by refraining from adventuring and instead engaging in hospitality and prayer between dusk Friday and sundown Saturday, or in a less-halakhic way if she comes from a Reform or comparatively-assimilated background, by marking Friday sunset with candles, blessings, and a good meal, even if she is intending to continue her research through the next day. She would hardly be the first Jewish person to live in a place without an established Jewish community, and a festive meal can be shared just as happily with non-Jewish friends if they’re griffons and fauns as if they’re Christians and Muslims.

Here’s one idea that I think would be hugely meaningful as a way of establishing both that she intends to make her home long-term in Fantasy World and that she intends to carry Jewish traditions with her into her new life: hang a mezuzah.

Think about it: a mezuzah is the visual marker of a Jewish home, as much to the resident as to a guest. When she is home from her adventures, in her garden cottage or enchanted tower or wherever she returns to between adventures to record and categorize her research, simply showing a mezuzah in the background instantly makes the point both that she is intending to stay, and that this is a Jewish space. If as time goes on she adds other Judaica items to her space, it can add to the sense that her Jewishness is present and alive in this world, simply because she is present and alive in it.

If she doesn’t have a settled space or if you’re not planning on setting any scenes there, having Jewish visual markers on and around her can help, too. For low-hanging fruit, maybe she has a silver Jewish Star or chai necklace that catches the light now and then, but since you’re going for a light, fun vibe, maybe she’s packing her adventuring supplies in a bright-blue vinyl backpack emblazoned with “Temple Shaarei Tzedek Junior Youth Retreat 1998” (am I old? I’m pretty sure there are adults reading this who were in Junior Youth groups in 2003, but I’m willing to bet retreat swag hasn’t changed that much).

I do like the idea of including Latin American and Jewish elements in the worldbuilding, especially as an intentional way to combat the cultural dominance of Western European folklore over fantasy writing, but because your character is from and has access to our world, you have the beautiful opportunity to carry real-world markers of Jewishness with her as well.

-Meir

I adore Meir’s answer, but then, I’m the kind of person to whom “enchanted tower with a mezuzah” as an aesthetic is so near and dear to my heart that I wrote a whole fantasy series about it. Couple of random suggestions: one thing I really enjoy is exposing my gentile friends to Jewish food—I love watching the absolute shock of delirium hit someone’s face the first time they taste my charoseth. Imagine this little bowl of chopped apples and walnuts, looking vaguely dirty because they’re soaked in cinnamon-infused wine, so it’s basically dingy beige slop….so that first bite of sensuous, deep sweetness is a huge surprise. Pick your favorite equivalent and imagine the first time a centaur or a winged princess or whatever other fantasy character tries it at your MC’s behest! (Feeding brisket to dragons would make a great name for…something…)

I don’t think you’re likely to do this anyway but since these are public answers: “fantasy world fun, Jewish upbringing a chore” is a narrative I would not feel at home in or care to read. But that’s a rather predictable remark from me anyway ;)

And of course I support the “the secondary fantasy world is actually Jewish” solution too, having one of my own.

–Shira

@geronimo-dilfton asked:

Hi!! So, I’m writing an alien race where the characters are based on chameleons (they’re called Clarians). Clarians look very human, aside from scattered scales, sometimes tails, and colorful skin that changes with emotion. I’m a bit worried that their race deriving from a lizard species could be anti-semitic. My worry is furthered because the main Clarian character, Christopher, has a position in the government (albeit, not by choice)- and the government he’s forced to be a part of is a fascist government that uses genocide to maintain power.

My thought was that I could keep Clarians as non-human and simply change the animal they’re based on, or I could scrap the non-human idea and simply make Clarian culture apply to anyone born on their home planet Clara.

I’m just frustrated because Clarians being able to change color is a big part of their culture, and I’m not sure what other creatures can change color like chameleons (aside from octopi)- it could very well be a magic thing, or I could just make characters colorful for the heck of it.

Is the fascist government itself lizard folk or just the one guy? If it’s the whole seat of power then yes, having fascist lizard people is going to be a bad look unless you have human Jewish characters in the same story or go out of your way to make the lizards look gentile somehow, which sounds like a lot of unnecessary work.

I’m in team “make the characters colorful Because You Said So” — lizard people are already fantastical and made up, so I think you have plenty of room to make them fascist color-changing capybara people or elk people or ptarmigans or something even though capys and elks and ptarmigans don’t change color in real life (well, I think ptarmigans might have regular feathers and snow feathers but I might be thinking of something else.) Because it’s already fantasy. Simple easy solution.

This isn’t as mandatory if the government is human and only the one employee is a lizard person, but why give yourself that extra work of proving you didn’t mean to trip a trope when you could just have a color changing ostrich.

–Shira

Jewish family matters: Is a Jewish teen girl doing most of the talking in a friendship “overbearing”? And, separate bedrooms because Dad is misogynist to Mom

Anonymous asked:

Jewish teen girl doing most of the talking in the friendship

Hi! I’m a long-time follower and have come to inquire about a Jewish character of mine and her family.

This character of mine (E) comes from a multifaith household (a practicing, ethnically Ashkenazi Jewish mother and a New England WASP Methodist father) and her family consists of her parents and her older brother (two years older) who was murdered when she was fourteen (her being seventeen in the current point in time).

E is a friendly extrovert who’s also quite stubborn, headstrong, and quite competitive and she enjoys playing sports. She’s friends with the younger sister of another murder victim.

They have a dynamic where E tends to ramble about her theories and things that she found out while the other girl tends to listen as well as share the stories she writes in order to cope with losing her own brother. I know that there’s a stereotype about overbearing Jewish mothers, but I didn’t know if this extends to women in general (I’ve done research and found conflicting information) and, if it does, whether E fits this stereotype.

Parents in separate bedrooms and misogynist fathers

The other question that I had regarding this family involves the parents. I read in your stereotype guide that it’s a stereotype that Jewish women “"become frigid after marriage.” E’s father spends a lot of time in Washington DC once he gets elected to a national senate seat (as well as because of his own misogynistic ideals) he very rarely helps out around the house or with childcare and, because of that, he and E’s mother came into conflict quite a bit because he refused to do his fair share while he was home and by the time E’s brother is killed they sleep in separate bedrooms.

However, this is explicitly because the father refuses to do his fair share around the house and because the mother refuses to stand for that. I try to make it abundantly clear that they “"sleep in separate bedrooms”“ before then because of the father’s misogynistic attitudes and refusal to help around the house, but I really don’t want to step on any toes here. Is there a problem with how this is portrayed, and if so is there a way I could remedy the writing?

Further characterization for the mother in case that’s relevant: she practices Reform Judaism and is a very warm figure that E feels she can trust with her feelings and concerns, and she is very ”“firm but fair”“, treating her children like individuals with respect and teaching them to be confident and headstrong and not stand for others treating them unfairly.

Because of her being the more ”“present”“ parent due to the father’s stated misogynistic attitudes, both E and her brother were closer to their mother and ended up loosely practicing Reform Judaism as well, and E herself is especially interested in the culture and often speaks Yiddish with her mother (who learned it from her own grandmother). The parents’ relationship also had much fewer issues before they had children and they got along fairly well; it’s just that the father’s misogynistic attitudes came out when it was time to take care of the children. So essentially, E looks up to her mother greatly and equally greatly dislikes her father.”

[shortened for length]

Hi Anon!

The way I read this post, you’ve got two main questions:
1.) Does it evoke the Overbearing Jewish Woman trope if a teenaged girl does the bulk of talking when she interacts with her female gentile friend?

2.) If Mom isn’t sleeping in Dad’s bed anymore because Dad is an unhelpful misogynist with a mistress, does this evoke the Frigid Jewish Wife trope?

We recommend a beta reader

We cut out a lot of details in the rest of your post that aren’t relevant and aren’t questions (for example, the serial killer? Also I’m glad the daughter is bi because I’m bi but it still took up space in the ask without being part of the question, etc.)

If you’re looking for someone to look over the rest of the plot for issues that’s where a beta reader or paid sensitivity reader comes in, because rubber stamping in-depth plot summaries is beyond the scope of WWC’s volunteer capabilities.

To answer your two main questions

However! I really like your questions; they are good questions and I think they will be fun to answer.

1. For me, Overbearing Jewish Woman mostly involves two things that aren’t in play here: Mom Age, and domination of a man. She’s still basically a kid, and even though she’s doing more of the talking than her friend, it just doesn’t have the same vibe as the trope. Think of Kyle’s mom on South Park – a Jewish mom character created by a Jewish man. Also, just because someone does more of the talking than her friend doesn’t mean the friend isn’t comfortable with the dynamic and feels oppressed or silenced. Maybe that’s just who they are and they enjoy interacting like that.
2. One way you could demonstrate that Mom is withholding sex because Dad sucks and not the other way around (Dad became unhelpful and got a mistress because Mom is withholding sex, which would evoke the trope) is if Mom truly misses the way she thought things would be, or the way things used to be. That might be a little hard to show in a story centering on the daughter because of healthy boundaries, but I think it’s possible if Mom’s wistful statements centered on intimacy instead of sex. It just has to be really clear that it’s a reaction to things and not the cause of the things.

—Shira

Additionally, if the mom’s Jewishness is something that helps her not become bitter about the disappointments of her relationship, and if the teenage character engaging with her own Jewishness gives her solace, comfort, strength, and joy, then you’re doing far more to oppose negative stereotypes of Jewishness and Jewish women than any superficial reflections of the negative tropes you were asking about.
And honestly, infodumping about Jewish learning and culture to a confused but interested non-Jewish friend is super relatable. But then, I do this for fun.

-Meir

writingthrowaway asked:

Is it ever acceptable to write a non human Jewish character as a goyim? I am writing an urban fantasy story with a mostly non human cast, and there Is going to be a discussion of religion at one point and one of the characters (a part human, part dryad) is explaining that being non human and having magic doesn’t give any answers, just different questions. His character feels very Jewish to me, but I am wary of creating a non human Jewish character due to the history of anti semitic portrayals of Jewish people as non human. I would avoid things like horns, green skin, etc, but am still worried.

At risk of being redundant, a grammatical note: “-im” is a plural ending in Hebrew and Yiddish. Seraphim, Nephilim, lechayim, and yes, goyim, are all plural. The singular is goy. It’s also not necessary or particularly more respectful to express that you’re not Jewish by saying “I’m a goy” than by saying “I’m not Jewish.” It’s not disrespectful, it’s just not necessary. If something feels meaningful to you about saying “I’m a goy,” “I’m a gaijin,” “I’m a gringo,” etc, you do you, and now you’re able to do it less incorrectly. 

As to your actual question, I think it’s lovely to show non-human, non-villainous characters practicing Judaism. Although we don’t proselytize, we do accept converts, and there’s a lot to play with in questions about how someone with different biological and potentially social needs would practice Judaism, although that would require a significant amount of research to write from the outside. Having that person be linked with trees is especially interesting, since Judaism has a lot to say about trees in a lot of contexts. If the character is half human and half dryad, that might open the door for you to learn more about the experiences of multiracial and mixed Jews, as their experiences might mirror those. I might point you to Rabbi Angela Buchdahl, who has written publicly about her experience as a mixed-race Jewish child and public figure, as a possible inspiration. 

You listed a few tropes of non-human character attributes to avoid, and you’re right about them. I encourage you to consider also the negative tropes attached to Jewish human characters. In a previous ask I listed some negative stereotypes of Jewish masculinity, and noted that many of them are only negative if the context is set up to frame them that way. You could choose either to avoid giving your Jewish, half-human man any of those attributes, or to include some of those attributes but frame them as positive or endearing, particularly the ones about  a character’s looks or intellect, but for instance I would avoid demonstrating his Jewishness through tropes like having poor boundaries with his mother or being unusually cowardly. I don’t think you’re headed in that direction but it was worth saying. 

Honestly I love the idea of non-human Jewish characters, it sounds like you’re conscious of the tropes involved, and I think you’re on the right track for creating this character sensitively and well.

-Meir

Since we have an actual Jewish tree holiday and your character is part tree creature I’d love to watch a character like that celebrate Tu Bishvat 💚

I agree with Meir that yes non human Jewish characters! But I disagree about gentiles/outsiders/etc. using “goyim” for themselves just because it’s a word in another language that you don’t actually need. It means “nations” and to me it has an “everyone else” connotation. But I’m just one person so feel free to listen to either one of us on this. I think the reason it strikes me as off is the use of a random word in a language you aren’t using for anything else but that specific word, when there is a word in your language. Like it has the same vibe to me as saying you want the atmosphere in your reading nook in your apartment to evoke “shalom” rather than just saying you wanted it to evoke peace, if you’re an English speaker. But yeah my response is mostly the “everyone else around us” connotation I’m used to associating with the word. Again, please don’t take either me or Meir as law, we’re just demonstrating the two Jews three opinions phenomenon. 

—Shira

fatheriimaginedyoutaller asked:

Is giving a Jewish protagonist eyes that change colors when she’s using magic reminiscent of any antisemitic trope? To be more specific her eyes change from brown to pupilless black or white depending on what type of magic she’s using. If she’s using “tangible magic” (I.e moving an object with her mind) her eyes will turn white and if she’s using “untangible magic” (I.e reading someone’s else mind) they will turn black.

This sounds like a creative idea and there are no obvious problems jumping out at me. I felt a little bit of discomfort at the suggestion which I think on reflection comes from the similarity to rat eyes: 

(Image above shows a rat with black eyes, no discernible pupils)

But in the context of a well-rounded character, as long as she doesn’t have any other rodent-like features, I’m fine with it.

As usual, I’d ask you to watch out for tropes that can be tied into magic, such as using powers to control wealth, governments or the media.

It’s also worth saying that, from an Orthodox point of view, magic is not allowed as a separate or rival force to Hashem. It would have to be part of Hashem’s power, in the same way that Moses could manipulate animals, rivers, oceans etc using his staff, but this was channeling a miracle rather than performing magic.

-Shoshi

Note: Shoshi used the word “Hashem” above. For those unfamiliar, Jewish tradition has many different names and nicknames for God. “Hashem” is a name that is typical for casual use. It translates literally as “The Name.”  —WWC Jewish team