I really enjoyed Joann Sfar's graphic novel The Rabbi's Cat. Why? Well, partly because of the fact that it wasn't about the Shoah, like the readings of the past few weeks, but also it was simply an interesting story. The idea of a cat eating a parrot and gaining the ability to speak is fantastic! That alone got me hooked. I mean, what WOULD cats say if they could talk to us? It's funny to think about, however, the novel does bring up some more serious issues.
The first part to really strike me occurs on pages 16-17, where the cat is talking to his master's rabbi about converting to Judaism. The rabbi's opinion is that the cat could not convert to Judaism because his motives were not sincere and the cat did not love and/or fear God, in fact his desire for conversion is coming only from a desire to make his mistress happy. Must one be religious in order to be Jewish? If one never steps foot in a synagogue nor ever sets their eyes on any part of the bible, but their parents are Jewish, is it wrong for the offspring to consider themselves Jewish? Is being Jewish only a question of religious belief? Aren't there those who consider themselves to be Jewish through ancestry alone? So many possible definitions...
The question of whether a cat can be Jewish seems silly. But it is in an interesting question. The rabbi did not believe that a "beast" could be religious. However, the cat is not an ordinary beast, he can talk. Doesn't this make a difference? In the end the rabbi stops resorting to the man vs beast argument and sticks with the argument that his reasons for desiring conversion are false and therefore the cat cannot become Jewish. Does the cat need permission though? Is he already Jewish, as his master stated earlier, that he must be Jewish since he has Jewish masters? Does the author want us to decide? Or does he tell us? Doesn't the fact that the cat loses his ability to speak after uttering over and over the forbidden "Adonai" mean something? Does this indicate that the cat was already in fact Jewish, and was therefore being punished for speaking the forbidden name?
Not only does this short part of the story remind us of the complexity of the question of what defines "the Jewish identity," but it also gives us a glimpse into, and a little background understanding for, the coming scenarios in which the cat's master, also a rabbi, is encountering different Jewish practices and differing opinions on what it means to be a good Jew. This glimpse into the opinions of the rabbi's rabbi, his teacher, helps us to understand why it was so difficult for him to come to terms with the varying behaviors of the different Jewish people he encounters throughout the story, behaviors that seem to contradict what he believes to be the "right" way to live and be a good Jew. Things that contradict what his rabbi taught him. Most people can relate to this I would think. It isn't always easy for any of us to understand (or accept) that sometimes there is more than one "right" way to do things.
This scene also reminded me of Art Spiegelman's struggle, as told in Volume II of Maus, of how (what animal) to depict his wife, Francois, since she is French but had converted to Judaism. By her own admission her conversion took place only to please her father-in-law, Vladek. So in a away, Francois is very much like the Rabbi's cat. It made me wonder, if knowing this is what made it more difficult for Art to decide how to draw her?
Being Jewish is clearly something that means many different things to many different people. The Rabbi's Cat, among other things, takes an interesting look at how Jewish Identity is not easily defined, at least in any simple terms.
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