THE JEW WITH THE ‘LOOK-BOX’

THERE is a large, a very large portion of the Jewish masses for whom the entire world of aesthetics, beauty, and art is unknown. On one hand, this world is too high for their level of development. Theatre, literature, and art are not part of the experience of these thousands and tens of thousands. The cinematography theatre (moving pictures [muving piktshurs]) therefore has a virtue: it speaks ‘mute language’ [shtum-loshn], and in mute language the masses are already expert. But there's a drawback: it also costs money. However cheap, one still has to pay 15–20 copecks. And at best such art lovers can spare from their basic expenses a copeck, perhaps two at the most.

The Jewish folk artist comes to their help. Still today, as in the past, the aesthetic needs of the very poorest are met by the Jew with the ‘look-box’ [kuk-kestele]. The look-box is simultaneously a theatre and a museum. While remaining in one place, the viewer of the look-box travels over sea and continent, over mountains and valleys, finds himself in emperors’ palaces, gazes into the bright crucible of firespewing mountains, and remains unharmed; cruises the ocean on the Titanic, observes its destruction, yet emerges cool, healthy, and—dry. The look-box also teaches history, teaches geography, and other important things. Give the needle a spin and the viewer leaps several thousand years into the past, from Gitke-Toybe's alley straight to Jerusalem, into King Solomon's palace, no more than a step from King Solomon's golden throne with the lions standing on the threshold. In another minute he is in Spain and watches the terrible Inquisition. A leap and he's at a parade of Napoleon's army in Paris. Another leap and he's in Port Arthur amid the Russo-Japanese war. The look-box serves as a newspaper. It provides you with pictures of the latest events of the day. The look-box Jew, it turns out, is a specialist in his business. He always stands in the middle of life, he lives with his time, knows ‘who’ and ‘when’.