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Of all life experiences, separation and loss are the ultimate universals. Feelings of grief and associated behaviors of mourning come naturally and inevitably in response to this unavoidable reality. Our cultures prescribe attitudes, our religions rituals, to help cope with the suffering caused by bereavement. Ethologists report that other creatures mourn their loved ones as well. Yet the process of mourning, and its underlying psychological function, are still matters of disagreement. Moreover, the very nature of what may be mourned remains insufficiently investigated.
The American Yiddish poet Yankev Glatshteyn (1896-1971) experienced his native language in much the same way as he did human beings. Yiddish was far more to him than a vehicle of expression or even a set of vital symbols. The language was alive and independent in him, capable of change and response. It was not merely mame-loshn, his mother tongue, but also tate-mame and bobe-loshn—mother-father and grandmother language. It functioned as a nurturing parent in his life, and, later, as a loyal, patient lover as well.
This relationship might not have come to light except for the tragedy of Hitler's holocaust. One result of Glatshteyn's perception that his people had been decimated and his culture annihilated was his sense that Yiddish, too, had perished. Specifically, he grieved for it and displayed typical mourning behavior. In this paper, I intend to discuss eight of Glatshteyn's poems in order to show how they reveal his attachment and bereavement.
The unusual aspect of Glatshteyn's loss stems from the fact that languages do not commonly die suddenly: it takes genocide to effect such a situation. As a result of this catastrophic