It is safe to say that when the word “Jewish” is brought up, a great deal of people immediately conjure up images of “brusquely” walking men in long, black coats and fedoras. In the eyes of many, what it means to be Jewish is frequently condensed into this single image. In Chapter 4, Goldschmidt admits that there are numerous telltale sartorial signs that lead to one’s judgment of who is Jewish and who isn’t, and he suggests that in a sea of Gentiles, it’s often the case that the Jewish stand out. However, at the same time, he asserts that there are several variations on norms of dress within the Jewish people themselves and uses the Luvabitchers as a testament to his claim as they tend to dress less elaborately and distinctively than is typical of most Hasidim. Furthermore, he goes on to say that an increasing number of Jewish people have—to some extent—assimilated to mainstream norms of dress to a point where it’s very difficult to tell them apart based solely on appearance. Goldschmidt says that while it is unremarkably easy to identify some Jews based due to distinctive apparel and certain physical features, it is significantly easier to overlook those who are Jewish and mistake them for people who are not. In particular, Goldschmidt brings up two groups of people within the Jewish community who are frequently taken as non-Jews: Jewish women and Black Jews.
Jewish women, who typically wear skirts of modest length, full sleeved blouses, wigs, and cover their legs in public, can easily be taken for any other women in New York who prefer to dress a bit more on the conservative side. Goldschmidt brings up a very good point since a many people may not realize just how difficult it can actually be to distinguish Jews from non-Jews on the basis of physical appearance. It is often even easier, however, to overlook a Black Jew since a great deal of people do not correlate skin of color to Jewishness. Especially in a neighborhood like Crown Heights where residents are either “Jewish” or either “black,” the concept of an overlap between the two elements is often too complicated for the public to harbor. In addition, the clothing of many Black orthodox Jews in Crown Heights does not fit in with Hasidic norms of clothing. For example, Goldschmidt states that a greater number of Black Jews appear to be more assimilated to mainstream norms of dress while some other Black Jews don very distinctive articles of clothing such as bright, colorful yarmulkes that can confer an entirely new identity upon them when misinterpreted by the public. Therefore, Goldschmidt poses a very important and thought-provoking question: how can one really distinguish a Jew from a non-Jew when “telltale sartorial signs” and “unique and instinctive facial and physical features” aren’t present?
After reading Goldschmidt’s various arguments, it becomes quite clear that there is no way to be absolutely sure of the identity of a passerby. What I found particularly interesting, however, was the way that several Jewish acquaintances of Goldschmidt maintained that they have a much easier time telling apart Jews form non-Jews for the reason that the “neshoma” of an individual just shines out to them. In fact, according to some, “the soul of a Jewish is fundamentally different from a Gentile” and there is a spiritual radiance that makes every Jew, regardless of sex and appearance, stand out from non-Jews. This line of thought brings us back once again to the mystical world of Kabbalistic thought, which seems to shape virtually every aspect of Hasidism. In every chapter, I find this theme of “esoteric Kabbalistic thought” surfacing and I am intrigued by it every time because it is most effective in helping to reveal the nature and beliefs of the Hasidic people.
