David Levinksy originally wants to educate himself in America, as per Matilda’s request. In short, he enjoys his studies, but needs money; his need becomes desire, leading to his formation of a quite successful cloak-making business; the results leave him devoid of the education he wants and of true friends.
As everyone has said, the title is quite ironic. Though he does rise up the ladder, from toiling as a poor Talmud student and then as a poor peddler to a renowned businessman, he falls in terms of his ambition and happiness, and cannot help but feel great loneliness despite his many employees, customers, and acquaintances; he even feels pangs of longing for the years he spent in poverty in America. This may be so because he has no one else to look up to or use as a role model After all, by the end of the novel, he becomes one of the best salesmen the country has seen, so he has no one to compare himself or his progress to; when you are one of the best, what left is there to attain? Though he envies the professors, scientists, and artists, he knows he has no longer has a chance nor the energy to further delve into studies nor acquire a career requiring such knowledge, so such admiration of these creative workers will lead to no avail anyway.
I do believe that David never truly deviates from his roots. He employs other Jewish residents who hail from Antomir and, keeps up a rapport with them, which ends up in his creating the “Levinsky Antomir Society.” His devotion to education and the struggles of learning draws off his grueling but satisfying experience of studying the Talmud. In a way, however, we could say that he clings to the nostalgia of home itself and his experiences with religion, but not to the actual religion itself. In fact, the reason he refuses to marry a Gentile woman lays not so much in the fact that his religion frowns down upon it, but because so many people he gets involved with would disapprove due to “medieval prejudice. Against his people”; his reasoning shows his how his faith has converted from that in God’s opinion to faith in other people’s opinions.
I find it strange that David himself never returns to Antomir seeing as his homesickness and financial support for his employees’ trips seem to tell another story; one possibility is that he is afraid of viewing his childhood home with a new perspective, or worse, his nostalgia is for naught, that the place is not the same Antomir of his childhood. The real question, though, is: if David truly tries to abandon his life as a wealthy cloak maker, and make a fresh start with education, his intended field of work and study, will he be happy? Does he even have a chance at reverting?
