Bitter humor: Jewish or Eastern European?

Did you hear the one about the poor peasant whose goat has died? The peasant catches a golden fish who tells him, “Ask for anything you want.” The peasant responds, “Oh, let my neighbor’s goat die too.”

Doctoral students have written tomes about Jewish humor, the bittersweet (and sometimes just plain bitter) kind that went national with Jack Benny and others in the mid-20th century and viral with Seinfeld at the turn of the millennium. But a trip to the Balkans this summer left me wondering whether the style is Eastern European and not uniquely Jewish.

The common denominator is lots of suffering. Jewish humor is often about wanting but not having, coveting so much that if we can’t have something we don’t want someone else to have something. Although Judaism doesn’t understand original sin as Christianity does, the bitter humor arises from the assumptions of a human nature fallen so far that it’s malicious.

Thus the golden fish joke, from Romania. It’s like a Russian joke about the peasant told by a genie that he can have anything he wants, as long as the man’s neighbor will get twice as much. The peasant says, “Put out one of my eyes.”

Romanians also tell a story about 10 craftsmen who build a great cathedral. The monarch is so pleased that he asks the head of the craftsmen, “Can you build another one?” The answer: “Of course we can.” The monarch then has all 10 of the craftsmen killed.

One of my uncles always voted for rich rather than poor politicians, out of the belief that the one already rich would be less likely to steal. Maybe sensible, probably not. I heard in the Balkans a joke about the man who visits his politician-friend’s very expensive new house by a beautiful river. The visitor says, “It’s wonderful, but how could you afford it?” The proud politician points to a nearby bridge: “Do you see that bridge? Ten percent.” When the guest asks if 10 percent was enough, the politician drives the visitor several miles away and asks, “Do you see that bridge?” There’s nothing there, so the visitor says, “What bridge?” The politician smiles and says, “100 percent.”

Is Jewish humor really Eastern European? (Maybe it’s a little like food: Years ago I spent a month on a Soviet freighter and found the dinners similar to those my grandparents, Jewish immigrants from Eastern Europe, served up.) Either way, the jokes are grim, and they do tell us something about our human nature. Our nature is to steal, to lie, to be jealous, to be out for ourselves and not for our neighbors. These jokes tell us how desperately we need Christ.