Very Superstitious

Here’s a thing I wrote for the Jewish Quarterly.

I am superstitious. Medieval-peasant superstitious. Large-gossipy-18^th-century-shtetl-fishwife superstitious. I’ll always refer to “the Scottish play” rather than, you know… the one that rhymes with MacDeath, even if it makes me sound like some old Victorian ham (if I can use that term in a piece for a Jewish magazine). I even hesitated about writing… the word that rhymes with MacDeath, as I’m not sure what the rules are. (more…)

Les Jews Olympiques

This article first appeared in the Jewish Chronicle.

When I suggested doing a show about “Jews and the Olympics” for Jewish Book Week, I recognised the suspicious look in the organiser’s eyes. It was a look that said: Jews and the Olympics? That’s going to be a short show. (more…)

Futureman. Is that a Jewish name?

Here’s a thing I wrote for the Jewish Quarterly.

Congratulate me. I’ve just written a whole sheet of A4 by pen. After years of computercentricity it felt weird, foreign, as unwelcome a throwback to the 1980s as news that The Tweets have reformed so we can hear the “Birdie Song” live again (ah, “The Tweets”. Now there’s a name that finally has meaning in this social network age). As I heaved the pen clumsily across the paper, sweat pouring from my brow, Repetitive Strain Injury gathering in my freaked-out forearm, I felt like a man trying to plough a field with a… well, with a pen. (more…)

Jew travels to Germany shock

Here’s a thing I wrote about 10 years ago after my first trip to Deutschland…

I have recently returned from making a film in Germany. It was a significant event for me, not just because the script was wonderful, my fellow actors were marvellous and all those other well-known Paltrowisms. It was significant because the film was shot in Germany and I am – well, there’s no other way to say it – I’m Jewish. A Jew. Ein Jude. (more…)

The unkindest cut of all

I have a Jewish friend who’s so assimilated he’s joined a church and even had himself  baptized. This might be to do with getting his daughters into the local church school (I’m sure St Paul only converted because there was an excellent C of E primary just off the road to Damascus), but you have to admire his commitment. Nevertheless, when his first son came along, even this hardcore convert to school-league-table Christianity had him circumcised. (more…)