Beware of God: Stories [Paperback]

A picture of a growling dog accompanies the title of Shalom Auslander’s debut collection of short stories, Beware of God, reminding us of the reversal between “god” and “dog”, an inversion that presents itself in the opening story, “The War of the Bernsteins”. The quarrel between Mr. and Mrs. Bernstein places them on opposite sides of the same mattress-he trying to become an increasingly observant Jew, she subverting all of his beliefs. With elements from Malamud and Isaac Bashevis Singer, the story exhibits a perfect symmetry: it begins with a list of items Bernstein keeps under his bed in case the Messiah should come, and ends with his wife’s list. He readies religious paraphernalia “and a bathing suit because you never know”; she prepares a secular wardrobe “and a bathing suit. Because you never know.” In Auslander’s clashing fiction, you never know whether religion or secularism will gain the upper hand.
A similar symmetry recurs in “Bobo the Self-Hating Chimp”, an anthropomorphic story about self-awareness in the Bronx Zoo. God, death, shame, and guilt are suddenly revealed to Bobo until these human and divine attributes force him to commit suicide. When a younger chimpanzee has a similar epiphany, he feels shame for the animal behaviour of his tribe. Auslander’s allegory provides a commentary on the human race and Darwinian evolution. Blasphemous anthropomorphism in “Somebody Up There Likes You” takes the form of God as mafia godfather trying to kill Bloom. The story begins with Bloom escaping a car accident and ends with God lamenting his death. “God closed his [sic] eyes and massaged His temples, trying to stave off the migraine He knew was coming. He was getting tired of this. Tired of the whole damn business.” If Joyce’s God pares His fingernails, Auslander’s pulls the trigger.
In “The Metamorphosis” Auslander borrows from Kafka. “As Motty awoke one morning from impure dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a very large goy.” Where Gregor Samsa turns into an insect, Motty Aranson changes to Superman, feared at synagogue and yeshiva, debated over by rabbinic authority until he is forced to hang himself. From heaven Motty looks down on his own funeral and has the last laugh. In Auslander’s tragic-comic tales, animals, humans, angels, and God ascend and descend the great ladder of being, accompanied by Talmudic argumentation. Familiar with the terrain of Orthodox Judaism, the author places himself just outside the fold, an apt position for commenting on religious foibles in these wry fables of identity. Aware of God, he puts Him in His place.
“Heimish Knows All” offers another tale of the sacred and profane. Omniscient Heimish is an observant dog (again God in reverse) that watches his ten-year-old keeper Shlomo, as the latter discovers the joys of masturbation. As the boy’s watchful superego, the dog admonishes the adolescent’s id defiling itself at home and at the synagogue. Eventually Heimish is run over by a car, and he watches from heaven as Shlomo continues to abuse himself excessively in a world of gefilte fish and Chanel perfume rubbing shoulders.
A pair of personified hamsters prays for the return of their keeper to feed them in the Beckett-like “Waiting for Joe”. The story begins with a chiasmus or crossing over, indicative of the conversions between faith and doubt, guilt and lust, that pervade Auslander’s fictional world: “In the beginning he was always on time. But it had been a long time since the beginning.” “Holocaust Tips for Kids” also explores the relationship between innocence and guilt in America. Beware of God revels in an inverted universe, as the deus ex machina appears in various forms; throughout, Auslander dramatizes characters and events in sharp, witty sketches. Beware of Auslander, whose characters stay with you long after they die. It’s a pleasure to read his uncanny fiction that rewrites Kafka, Roth, Malamud, and Singer.
Michael Greenstein (Books in Canada)
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

The faithful look sharp or fall victim to a "surly, bossy, paranoid, violent" God in Auslander's satirical debut collection. The author, raised an Orthodox Jew, mercilessly spoofs the Old Testament deity: God suffers from migraines, stalks a modern-day prophet and appears as a large chicken, among other incarnations. Though harsh rabbinic voices echo throughout, and characters who engage in Talmudic-style debate usually arrive at absurd conclusions, Auslander's target isn't religious hypocrisy. Instead, he guns for sacred cows: literal interpretations of the Torah, strict adherence to Jewish law, and belief in an all-powerful deity who metes out punishment and reward according to man's fulfillment of God's commandments. At the heart of this satire, though, is the pain of true believers at the mercy of a capricious God. These are high-concept stories: a chimpanzee suddenly achieves "total conscious self-awareness.... God. Death. Shame. Guilt"—a burden he cannot bear. A yeshiva student wakes one morning with a brawny, goyishe body and is reviled by his community. A man enrages all major world religions with his discovery of original Old Testament tablets preceded by the disclaimer, "The following is a work of fiction." Occasionally, the Catskills-inflected comedy is corny, but for the most part, Auslander skillfully handles heavy subject matter with a droll tone. "Beautiful day," an adman says, making small talk at a pitch meeting with God. " 'I made it myself,' God answered loudly." (Apr.)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

This first short story collection is approachable and entertaining on many levels, because it includes a strange and either funny or disturbing cast of characters, all of whom explore, in one way or another, their connection to the universe and the Almighty. The first story, "The War of the Bernsteins," pits a technically pious man against his rebellious and frustrated wife, and the descriptions of their internal "spiritual mathematics" is reminiscent of some of Woody Allen's short pieces. "Holocaust Tips for Kids" is, as expected, chilling and maudlin but also somehow humbling, putting everything in an unusual perspective. Some of the other stories seem to verge on gimmicky, but for the most part, Auslander avoids cheap laughs, his point in these stories being that all of us, deeply observant of our faith or not, take the doctrine and ritualistic trappings of organized religion far too seriously. Debi Lewis
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

"Hilarious, curious, possibly scandalous, keenly observed and bleeding-fresh."

--Augusten Burroughs, author of Running with Scissors

"The stories in Beware of God mark the debut of the freshest voice in Jewish literature since Philip Roth arrived on the scene. Youthful, energetic, wholly original--never has Orthodox Judaism been so appealing. Auslander captures the ecstatic melancholy and perverse confusion that makes for a comedy of divine intervention. Beware of God charts the collision of the modern world with ancient superstition, belief rubbing up against desire. In these stories not only does God speak--he does it in Dolby Surround sound."

--A. M. Homes, author of Things You Should Know and The Safety of Objects

"A fresh voice, and wonderfully fearless."

--Kirkus Reviews

"Auslander skillfully handles heavy subject matter with a droll tone."

--Publishers Weekly

Shalom Auslander's stories in Beware of God have the mysterious punch of a dream. They are wide ranging and inventive: A young Jewish man's inexplicable transformation into a very large, blond, tattooed goy ends with an argument over whether or not his father can beat his unclean son with a copy of the Talmud. A pious man having a near-death experience discovers that God is actually a chicken, and he's forced to reconsider his life -- and his diet. At God's insistence, Leo Schwartzman searches Home Depot for supplies for an ark. And a young boy mistakes Holocaust Remembrance Day as emergency preparedness training for the future.

Auslander draws upon his upbringing in an Orthodox Jewish community in New York State to craft stories that are filled with shame, sex, God, and death, but also manage to be wickedly funny and poignant.

Shalom Auslander was raised as an Orthodox Jew in Spring Valley, New York. Nominated for the Koret Award for writers under thirty-five, he has published articles in Esquire and has had stories aired on NPR's This American Life. He lives in New York City.

The War of the Bernsteins

These are the things that Bernstein carried in the brown, broken suitcase he kept under his bed in the hope that the Messiah would arrive in the middle of the night: two pairs of black socks, one pair of black pants, a white shirt, one Book of Psalms, some rugalach, three yarmulkes, a spare set of phylacteries, two prayer shawls (one for weekdays, one for Sabbath) and a bathing suit because you never know.

"In the World to Come," the rabbis would say to Bernstein, "there will be eternal happiness and joy."

"In the World to Come," Bernstein would say to his wife, "there will be eternal happiness and joy."

"I'm sorry you're so miserable here," Mrs. Bernstein replied from her post before the kitchen sink.

Bernstein lived every moment of this life in hopeful preparation for the next. Forty-five years of Torah study had convinced him not only of the sordidness of this world, but of the perfection and euphoria of the World to Come. As he got older, and that world steadily approached, Bernstein became ever more careful. Just last month, he had celebrated his fiftieth birthday.

"You're halfway to dead!" joked the birthday card Mrs. Bernstein had left for him. Mrs. Bernstein had a suitcase under her bed, too, but it wasn't packed for the Messiah.

Bernstein decided that with half his life already over, he was running out of time to score points. From now on, every action he took and every deed he considered would be put through a thorough cost/benefit analysis of reward versus punishment.

If he found himself to be too tired for morning services, he would remind himself of just how many rewards he'd receive in the World to Come if he could only get out of bed. He measured the lure of a one-time bacon double cheeseburger against the everlasting joy of love and peace. He weighed sitting in a buddy booth at the Show World Peep Center with an erection in his hand against sitting among the holy forefathers in the Garden of Eden with a crown of eternal love on his head.

The spiritual mathematics consumed him.

Was obeying a negative prohibition worth the same amount of reward in the World to Come as fulfilling a positive commandment? Would the inaction of negative prohibitions really be as rewarded as the deliberate action of positive commandments? If they were, could Bernstein simply not do those things that were negatively prohibited in this world and still be rewarded handsomely in the next, rather than actively doing those things that were positively commanded only to receive pretty much the same reward in the World to Come as if he had simply not done that which had been negatively prohibited? Would he actually be rewarded for not doing something, or would he just not receive the punishment he would have received if he had violated the negative prohibition? Then again, if the commandment was positive and he would receive punishment for not doing it, then would he receive rewards for doing it? Or was it just the not doing it that God was concerned with?

It gave Bernstein a terrible headache.

Mrs. Bernstein was only thirty-four years old last May, and was thus far more concerned with her lot in this world than with her lot in what was, in her own estimation, a decidedly dubious next.

"Let's go to the movies," Mrs. Bernstein said one boring Sunday afternoon.

Bernstein thought of all the cursing and immorality and nudity he might witness on the big screen, and how much euphoria in the World to Come it would cost him. Your nakedness will be exposed and your shame uncovered. I will take vengeance; I will spare no one.

"Nah," said Bernstein.

He briefly wondered if by renting The Ten Commandments he could be said to have fulfilled the commandment to fill your heart and mind with Torah all the day and all the night.

"Well, if we're staying home anyway," Mrs. Bernstein said, "let's make love." She grabbed him playfully around his waist. "Right here," she said, "in the kitchen!" Bernstein thought about how many rules of modesty that would cause him to violate, and how much ecstasy in the World to Come it could possibly cost him. And the Lord said, because the cry of Sodom and Gomorrah is great, and because their sin is very grievous.

"I'm tired," Bernstein said.

Mrs. Bernstein decided that if Bernstein thought she was going to waste her life securing his front-row seat in the afterlife, he had another thing coming. And it wasn't euphoria.

She decided to fight blessings with curses, piety with profanity. For every commandment, there was a prohibition. For every reward, there was a punishment. For every mitzvah, there was an equal and opposite aveyrah.

She bought a red silk nightie at Victoria's Secret and wore it casually around the house. She would cause him two sinful thoughts for every pious one in his thoughtless little head.

She bought jeans.

He spilled his semen on the ground....What he did was wicked in the Lord's sight, so He put him to death.

The spiritual mathematics consumed her.

On the outside chance that there actually was a World to Come, she certainly didn't want to sacrifice her own rewards in the next life just to ruin his. Mrs. Bernstein didn't mind going to the Seventh Level of Hell, so long as she could walk to the edge, look down below and see Mr. Bernstein burning in the Eighth.

Sin selection became critical: she had to make sure that nothing she was doing to cause him to sin was actually costing her more points than his resultant sin would end up costing him -- committing murder, for instance, just to get him to turn on the light on Shabbos. A felony, if you will, just to cause a misdemeanor. But what if the punishment for causing a sin was not only the punishment for the sin of causing someone to sin, but was also the punishment for the sin of whatever sin she caused? That is, would conspiracy to cause masturbation see her charged with both conspiracy and masturbation? Of course, if the total punishment of causing a sin is a sin of causation plus the sin of the sin that is being caused, then shouldn't causing a commandment to be fulfilled result in both the reward for the commandment of causing a positive commandment to be fulfilled plus the reward for the positive commandment she was causing to be fulfilled?

It gave her a terrible headache.

Bernstein began attending prayer services more frequently, praying more fervently, believing more believingly.

Fearing more fearfully.

He walked the mile and a half to synagogue for every Friday night service, every Saturday morning service, every Saturday afternoon service and every Saturday evening service. He attended weekday morning services every weekday morning, and weekday evening services every weekday evening.

He became president of the synagogue.

Blessed is he who helps in the construction of a synagogue.

She used nonkosher wine for Kiddush. She put milk in his coffee after serving him meat. She put pork in the chulent. She put bacon bits in his salad, and told him they were imitation.

"Those who eat the flesh of pigs and rats and other abominable things, they will meet their end together," declares the Lord.

He hung a large framed picture of the Lubavitcher Rebbe in his living room, which Mrs. Bernstein moved to the basement, which Bernstein moved back into the dining room.

Blessed is he who surrounds himself with the righteous.

(Bernstein figured he got himself a double-word score on that one, as he had surrounded himself with the righteous twice with just one picture.)

She set the alarm clock for Saturday morning. In his foggy half-sleep he would reach over and shut it off. Bam, Fourth Commandment.

Anyone who desecrates the Sabbath must surely be put to death.

The fool. He'd have to hang a hundred rabbi pictures around the house just to break even!

Bernstein began slaughtering his own chickens because he didn't trust his butcher.

He began cooking his own food because he didn't trust his wife.

He wore his tsitsit out, his beard long and his peyis curly. He purchased a black, wide-brimmed fur-felt Italian handmade Borsalino hat, for which he laid out a cool $365.

Blessed is he who spends his money on fulfilling God's commandments.

Mrs. Bernstein didn't buy herself a new hat. She wore the same frayed beret to synagogue that she'd worn for years.

They rarely spoke -- even in the few odd moments when Bernstein wasn't at synagogue, doing charity work, praying or studying the Talmudic intricacies of who is liable to pay for damages if one man's bull gores another's (it depends who owns the field).

They lived opposite lives in opposite worlds.

One Friday night, after singing the grace after meals and reading the parsha of the week and saying the Shema Before Bedtime and kissing his tzitzit and touching them to his eyes and kissing them again and saying the Prayer Upon Sleeping and climbing into bed, Bernstein rolled over and tapped his wife on her shoulder.

"Blessed is he who obeys God's command to be fruitful and multiply," he whispered gently in her ear.

Mrs. Bernstein stared silently at the doorway. "I want a divorce," she finally said.

There was a long silence.

Mrs. Bernstein sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

" 'I hate divorce,' says the Lord God of Israel," threatened Bernstein. "So guard yourself in your spirit, and do not break faith!"

Beneath her robe Mrs. Bernstein wore her pink sweater set and white Reeboks. She stood up, let the robe drop from her shoulders and picked up her car keys.

"The husband will be innocent of any wrongdoing!" shouted Bernstein. "But the woman will bear the consequences of her sin!"

These are the things Mrs. Bernstein carried in the tan leather valise she kept under her bed in the hope she would someday find the courage to leave her husband in the middle of the night: two pairs of black tights, the red silk nightie, her jeans, a makeup bag, a pack of ci...