Indecent

This section of the play features several more real people: Esther Stockton was one of the original Broadway actresses in The God of Vengeance, as was Dorothee Nolan. Nolan went on to act in a number of other Broadway shows until 1938. There are scant records of the Yiddish production of The God of Vengeance that opened in New York City in 1921, and with only a first name to go on, it is unclear whether Reina is based on a real person or whether Dorothee Nolan ever had a relationship with a woman. Virginia McFadden was real, too. The play implies that she develops romantic feelings for Dorothee, but this is purely speculative. Lemml appears to be fictional, but Harry Weinberger was the show’s real producer. He is not to be confused with the artist of the same name. 

In this part of the play, the relationship between Dorothee and Reina brings the theme of Lesbianism, Freedom, and Hope for the Future to the forefront. They are a real couple who are set to play Rifkele and Manke on stage. For Reina, performing as Rifkele is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to confess her real love for Dorothee on stage. As Rifkele, she can pretend that she lives in a freer, more hopeful world, just for a moment. Lemml views Rifkele and Manke just like Reina does: as a symbol of a better world. Lemml is implied to be gay, so these characters are also significant for him on a personal level. For him, the love between Rifkele and Manke is representative of what the Messiah (a figure from the Torah’s prophecies about the future) is supposed to usher in: a time with no more pain or hatred. For Dorothee, playing Manke is meaningful because Manke is such a complete and real character. Unlike many female characters in plays of the time, Manke is a whole, complex person, representing freedom and self-expression for women in theater and in real life. Although Dorothee evidently values the love story in The God of Vengeance, she is reluctant to discuss it with Virginia. Virginia might see her role in the play as an opportunity to shock her parents, but for Dorothee, portraying a lesbian relationship is not a game—it is her life, and it is risky.

When The God of Vengeance makes the shift to Broadway, the characters have to reckon with Antisemitism, Representation, and Decency. Harry Weinberger decides to cut some of the more controversial elements of the play because the cast has been receiving so much antisemitic hate mail. Interestingly, what he chooses to cut is the most romantic scene of the lesbian love story, not the controversial treatment of the Torah. The antisemitism the cast experiences is intertwined with anti-gay bias: Each one can be weaponized to reinforce the other. The cast is now facing the same discussion that Sholem encountered in Peretz’s salon. They have to decide whether changing the play will keep their community safe, and whether that safety is worth the loss of meaningful artistic expression and exploration. 

Tellingly, while the cuts remove some of the romance between the women, they do not excise the relationship entirely. Instead, they make the dynamic between them less based on love and more manipulative on Manke’s part. Several characters have already described the love between Rifkele and Manke as “pure”—it is this purity and tenderness that is considered inappropriate or indecent. Harry Weinberger’s cuts make it clear that a sexual relationship between women is acceptable on stage, so long as the production does not frame that relationship as something romantic, reciprocal, and liberating. 

The characters’ cultural context shifts from Europe to America in this part of the play. As a result, their relationship to Jewish Identity and Language also shifts. There is a big Jewish population in New York City at this time—big enough to stage plays in Yiddish—but being visibly Jewish can be difficult. The song “Vot Ken You Makh in America?” is about assimilating to American culture; its lyrics discuss men cutting off or hiding their peyes, or sidelocks, which mark them out as obviously observantly Jewish. Other aspects of assimilation are more universal; all point to the idea that American culture prefers homogeneity of appearance and diction despite its “melting pot” ideal. Some characters are pressured to change their names to sound more anglophone. Lemml and Reina resent this change, but Dorothee is more prepared to accept it, which is reflected in the fact that she is called “Dorothee” in the script; only Reina calls her Deine. Once again, Yiddish is a stigmatized language. The actors must be able to speak relatively unaccented English to be considered palatable to non-Jewish American audiences. An English translation of The God of Vengeance carries much more prestige than the original Yiddish; only the English version is eligible for a shift to Broadway.