Feet of Clay

Kevin Coolidge

Soft mud, warm sun -- for a moment the rabbi could forget the terror of the past…almost. His was a deeper calling. A duty to the people, the people he had sworn to teach and protect. He would mold this clay into the shape of a giant man, a golem. With the power invested by the Talmud and the study of Kabbalah, sacred and mystical rituals that delved into the nature of the eternal and creation, he would bring forth a protector to defend those who could not defend themselves. He would bring forth life.

In Jewish folklore, a golem is an artificially created human that is brought to life with magical religious ceremony. The most famous story involves Rabbi Judah of Prague who is said to have created a golem who not only worked as a servant, but also served to protect the Jewish community from being prosecuted under the rule of Rudolf the Second, the Holy Roman Emperor.

David Wisniewski tells this story in the children’s book Golem. This animated creature, however, can be a mixed blessing. Golems cannot speak and are not intelligent, but are perfectly obedient. They will perform instructions quite literally, never stopping until commanded. It is said that the emperor begged the rabbi to destroy the golem when it became violent. He promised safety from prosecution for the Jews. The rabbi deactivated the golem by rubbing out the first letter of the word emet (truth) from creature’s forehead, leaving the Hebrew word met meaning dead. The body was then stored and hidden, where it could be restored to life if needed.

The tale is said to have inspired the German poet, Goethe, and his ballad The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. One children’s book inspired by the original legend, as well Goeethe’s poem, is The Golem’s Latkes written by Eric A. Kimmel and illustrated by Aaron Jasinski. In this story, Rabbi Judah molds clay into a giant man and brings it to life by writing a magic word on the creature’s forehead.

Rabbi Judah calls his giant Golem, which means lump. He uses the creation to paint, and dig, and do other work. One winter’s day the rabbi found much to do and little time to do it. The first night of Hanukkah would soon begin, and the house must be made ready for his guests, but he had other duties and had to meet with the emperor.

He told his housemaid to prepare for the holiday. There was sweeping and dusting, and the latkes (potato pancakes traditionally served during Hanukkah) still needed to be made! There was so much to do. It was only fair that she should have help. It was only fair that Golem should help her.

“Golem, make latkes,” she said. Golem began peeling potatoes and chopping onions. Mixing them with eggs, salt, and pepper. Frying them in a huge iron pan. Peel, chop, fry. Peel, chop, fry. Soon the latkes filled the kitchen, then the house. The latkes pushed open the door and spilled into the street.

Rabbi Judah arrived home to find latkes blocking the door to his house. He climbed a crispy, golden pile and forced his way into the kitchen. There was the golem cooking by the stove. “Golem, enough!” shouted the rabbi.

“Our guests will be arriving soon. What are going to do with all these latkes?”

“What else do you do with latkes?” said the maid. “Eat them!”

Rabbi Judah invited all of Prague to his Hanukkah party. People from miles around came to join the feast that lasted eight days and nights. When Hanukkah had ended, the latkes were gone. It is said that Golem still exists. Perhaps in a dusty attic, or a forgotten cellar. Patient, quiet, waiting until he is needed once again…

Feet of clay? Or a spine of steel? Drop me an email at from_my_shelf@yahoo.com and let me know. Hungry for past columns? Visit http://frommyshelf.blogspot.com and get your fill. Look for Hobo’s new cookbook where he slices, dices, and juliennes. Pass the ketchup and don’t pass on “Hobo Finds A Home,” a children’s book about a lost cat who found a home.