By Rabbi Rachel Esserman

During the past few decades, scholars and feminists has been recovering work written by Jewish women during the first half of the 20th century. The majority of these books are from the Ashkenazic world, which makes the new edition of the novel “Mazaltob” by Blanche Bendahan, translated and edited by Yaele Azagury and Frances Malino (Brandeis University Press), even more welcome since it offers a view of Sephardic culture. Also included in the book are essays by Azagury and Malino giving background about Bendahan’s life and the culture in which the novel takes place. The work, which was originally published in 1930, was Bendaham’s first novel. Although the author lived most of her life in France, her story takes place in Tetouan, Morocco. 

Mazeltob is both the title of the book and the name of its main character. The name derives from the phrase mazel tov, meaning good luck. (It is not uncommon in the Sephardi and Mizrahi world to substitute a “b” sound for the “v.”*) However, readers will discover that Mazeltob does not have much good luck. Although she’s attended school and is well educated in French, she has no control over the course of her life since marriages are arranged by parents and all women are expected to marry. The man who seeks her hand is Jose, who returned from Brazil to Morocco to find a Jewish wife as custom demands. However, he is used to living as he pleases, which means drinking and carousing with friends.

It doesn’t take Jose long to realize that he’s made a mistake, leaving him looking for an excuse to return to Brazil without Mazeltob. Her return to her parents’ house makes her an object of pity as the years pass without her husband sending for her. Making matters worse, her childhood friend Jean, who is half Jewish, realizes he has always been in love with her. Mazeltob feels the same, but has no way to free herself from her marriage since no one knows how to contact Jose. This forces the two lovers to make difficult decisions about their future.

Of great interest were the Moroccan Jewish customs that may be unfamiliar to Ashkenazic Jews. For example, although Mazeltob moves into the same house as her husband after her marriage, she is not allowed to leave her bed for the first seven days, nor is he allowed to spend time alone with her. The community also pities those who die in the early days of the week: they believe the souls of the dead can only ascend to heaven on Fridays. Those who die before that are doomed to wander the earth for several days.

A woman’s place in this society is greatly circumscribed. Mazeltob’s face was not only covered with a veil when she married, but she lowered her eyes because she considered herself unworthy of looking at the rabbi doing the ceremony. When someone dies, women can attend the candle flame lit after the death, but their prayers are considered worthless. Any woman who is divorced or widowed stands no chance of marrying again: they are only allowed one man in their lives. The reason men do not want to marry these women is because tradition says any children born to them will resemble the woman’s first husband, rather than her current one. It should be noted that although Bendahan writes what her characters believe, her novel seems a protest against the role of women. 

The question when an older work is republished is whether it stands on its own or serves mostly to satisfy reader’s curiosity about the past. My feelings about “Mazaltob” were mixed. I felt distanced from the characters and didn’t get emotionally involved in Mazaltob’s story until its end. However, I did have a strong reaction to the treatment of women in the society in which she lived. Of greater interest to me was learning about the many different customs that were practiced. Others may find the plot and emotion of this doomed love story more emotionally involving. Book clubs may also find those customs and the decisions Mazaltob makes worthy of discussion. 

*A thank you to Bryan Kirschen, chairman of the Department of Romance Languages and Literatures, and an associate professor of Spanish and linguistics at Binghamton University, for his help in clarifying that not only is the “b” substituted in place of a “v” in writing, but in pronunciation.