OBERAMMERGAU
The Troubling Story of the World's Most Famous Passion Play
By James Shapiro
Pantheon; 238 pages; $24
First, what this book is not: ``Oberammergau: The Troubling Story of the
World's Most Famous Passion Play'' gives readers little sense of why half a
million people will see the Passion Play this year during its once-a-decade
run. It's not a spiritual map for the faithful pilgrims who trek to the
Bavarian village of Oberammergau -- nor a nasty expose for the skeptical.
James Shapiro concentrates on only one aspect of this passion play: its
depiction of Jews. In exploring it, he rakes up the village's pro-Nazi past
and its sincere attempts to redress that past in its passion play, which has
continued for 366 years despite wars, military occupation, religious
censorship and boycotts.
Shapiro's book is as fast-paced as a thriller; it's more journalistic than
scholarly in its compelling interview style. While airing the
Passionsspiele's problems in so coherent and comprehensive a way is not
likely to please Oberammergauers, they emerge from Shapiro's pages as ear
nest and dedicated people trapped in an impossible situation. Shapiro
exposes the basic human desire to rewrite the past: The villagers want to
erase their Nazi history; the Jews want to red-pencil themselves out of the
Crucifixion. (As one villager wisecracks when a reporter asked who crucified
Jesus, ``It wasn't the Chinese.'' )
Jewish grievances are understandable, considering how the performance
of passion plays in the past was linked with violence. In 1539, for example,
the performances were canceled in Rome because they were regularly followed
by the sacking of the Jewish ghetto. The anti-
Semitic flavor continued into this century: Oberammergau's Passionsspiele
once featured orientalized, money-grubbing, back-stabbing Jews shouting
``crucify him'' in concert. The Resurrection scene presented a prostrate
Sanhedrin trampled underfoot. Jews wore dark clothes and horned hats.
Shapiro cannot prove, except in an anecdotal fashion, that the play's
anti-Semitic elements predisposed the villagers to Nazism, but he notes they
``converted'' in record proportions. Significantly, Hitler had praised the
play for exposing ``the menace of Jewry'' -- and saw it twice. Shapiro does
show how the villagers' carefully cultivated reputation for superhuman piety
had set
them up for a fall. (A typical attitude: A Munich cardinal told current
director Christian Stuckl that ``the person imitating Jesus doesn't act the
part, he has to be Jesus. To act it is impossible.'' ).
Nazi elements have clung like a bad odor to the Passion Play in the years
following, and so have anti-Semitic aspects in the presentation. In 1960,
for example, the villagers preferred an ex-Nazi to play Jesus rather than
give the part to a man who had married a non-Catholic. (Non-Catholics were
allowed to perform only recently; non-Christians only this year.) The same
ex-Nazi directed the play in 1970, the year that prominent intellectuals
called for an international boycott.
Oberammergau had to reform, but there was a major barrier: To wash out
the anti-Semitic stains, the play's directors had to deal with a host of
Jewish groups and their conflicting opinions. One wanted the play scrapped
entirely: ``Give me another play; if it's about a crucifixion in which the
Jews kill Christ, you can never clean it up enough.'' The Jews, too, are
understandably frustrated: ``(A)fter Auschwitz, (that) we should have to
fight for this . . . it's stupid.''
This year's text (the passion play runs until early October) removes all
references to Pharisees and the word Christ, and also deletes the Jews'
explosive line from the Gospels: ``His blood be upon us, and upon our
children.'' But bedrock differences remain. The play's text and 70-plus
tableaux vivants still imply that the New Testament is the fulfillment of
the Jewish teaching. Shapiro admits that these obstacles may be insuperable,
because they involve fundamental issues of Christian faith.
Shapiro, whose previous book was ``Shakespeare and the Jews,'' is a New
York Times book critic and professor at Columbia University who grew up in a
Jewish household that didn't ``buy German, speak German, or visit Germany.''
One is then pleasantly surprised by his even-
handed portrayal of the difficulties of both sides and their real concerns
about balancing justice, faith and tradition.
Shapiro dives into deeper questions: How much can you change a matter of
faith and still be true to its essence? How much can religious faith
accommodate rewriting from others? Do the Buddhists, for example, get to
edit the Torah to conform to their own understanding? Do Hindus get to
blackball offensive bits from the Koran?
He points out that no contemporary record exists of the 1633 vow to
perform the play every 10 years for divine relief from the plague, and the
accuracy of subsequent chronicles testifying to that have been challenged.
This leads to bigger questions of how we remake history: Whether the vow
ever happened, it is now the reason for Oberammergau's existence.
Cynthia Haven attended this year's Oberammergau passion play and wrote about it for Civilization.
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