Who doesn’t love a good Purim spiel? If done right, a good time should be had by all, thanks to the costumes, noisemakers, liberal libations, and opportunities to boo and hiss with raucous abandon. Let the party commence! Yes, the story of Esther is a dangerous one; yes, the survival of many people hangs in the balance; yes, the stakes could not be higher. But what’s the spiel?
In addition to being a fun word to pronounce, spiel has the added attraction of containing myriad layers of meaning, themselves worthy of a good spiel. Once upon a time (or, more precisely, in the 9th century CE), several groups of Ashkenazic Jews migrated from southern France and northern Italy into the basin of the Rhine River, bringing their stories, language(s), and customs with them. As they encountered new people, they began to sprinkle some Germanic words into the combination of romance languages, Hebrew, and even Aramaic that they had worked into their own unique blend. One of those words, the Proto-West Germanic spil, found its way into their parlance to refer to a “game” or a “performance,” and our beloved Yiddish spiel was born. English dictionaries, on the other hand, tend to start their definitions of the word with a focus more on animated speech or an elaborate story. So which is it? A game or a story?
Why not both? At 6:30pm, TBD will host a spiel of our own, I hope that many of you will join us for the festivities! A raucous good time should be had by all, as we take this time to celebrate (inner) children, silliness, and stories. Amid the hissing and hollering, I hope that we will all be reminded of the importance of spiel in our lives, in all its many layers. Whether or not we realize it, we tell ourselves stories from dawn until dusk. We fill our days with meanings, interpretations, and analysis. Worst of all, we believe much of what we tell ourselves! This Purim, I invite you to bring a little more play into the stories that you weave, to find your joy in the smiles that you give to those around you, to give yourself permission to break out of the milquetoast mores that lock us into our daily routines. Each day is a gift, a new story to tell, and no one can perform your spiel with half of the panache that you can bring to it!
Shabbat Shalom and Chag Purim Sameach!
Rebecca Abbate
