Journal #7: Abraham Cahan

"Flora hated the notion of marrying as the other Mott or Bayard Street girls did. She was accustomed to use her surroundings for a background, throwing her own personality into high relief. But apart from this, she craved a more refined atmosphere than her own, and the vague ideal she had was an educated American gentleman, like those who lived uptown."


In The Imported Bridegroom, Cahan depicts a Jewish American young woman and her father, living in New York. The father, Asriel Stroon, has begun to revert back to his Orthodox Jewish beliefs as he grows older and starts to fear that he has not lived as a good man. Part of his return to tradition is his desire for his daughter to marry a a Jewish man, in hopes that the man can mourn Asriel in death the way it is believed he should properly be mourned, and perhaps to also take care of his daughter. But Flora has other plans. She wishes to marry an American (Jewish) doctor, and she has an underdeveloped view of what her life would be like. She is heavily concerned with appearances and status, and thinks that she will fulfill these by living happily ever after as a doctor's wife.

At first, I liked Flora... I figured Cahan's might be a story of a strong-willed young woman at odds with her old-fashioned Jewish father (which she was), and that they would come to an understanding (or not) on some middle ground about marriage and the early vs. modern ideas of it. The reader does not get a large literal perception of Flora before Cahan shifts to Asriel and his trip to Pravly. I say literal, because after a discussion in class about the opening paragraphs, I realized there was so much that I hadn't picked up on in Flora's character. For example, I took from the first few paragraphs that she simply liked to read... and I was impressed by this. After discussing it deeper in class, I realized that I missed the point: that there was an air of pretension and fantasy in the first scenes of Flora.


Later, Flora turns out to be a person who finds a way to spin things to her anticipated advantage by manipulating Shaya into becoming what she wants him to be. I still didn't quite think ill of her, since Shaya was inclined to learn, and seemed content with the situation. And I liked the idea of them falling in love (call me a ridiculous romantic), but I admit that I hoped for a happy ending then, in which they eventually reveal their scheme to Asriel, and although it takes time, he gets over their deception and everyone lives happily ever after as an "Americanized" family, in which case, the characters would have all been somewhat changed at the end, and maybe for the better.
I'm wondering if I should feel a little ashamed of my initial response to the reading... It seems like there were so many details I missed in the beginning, and should I try harder not to expect happy endings? I realize that life is not about happy endings, and neither is literature...
My lack of an initial deeper understanding of Flora makes me think I have a lot to learn about interpretation, but I guess that's why I'm in college. I feel as if I was duped by the happy image of her sitting in the "boudoir" with her book. She ends up being spoiled and naive, which I surely can not judge her for, but maybe I should've seen it coming?