BY G. CONNOR SALTER
I had the opportunity some time ago to review the book Jewish Fantasy Worldwide for Mythlore, and noticed something interesting: no references to The Princess Bride. Or any works written by William Goldman. Which is curious, as references to Jewish cultural tropes or history appear not just in his famous novel and screenplay The Princess Bride (I recommend articles by Jewish Women’s Archive and Jewish Humor Central for more on that) but also in unexpected places, like Goldman’s thriller novels (Marathon Man, No Way to Treat a Lady). I would argue there’s a subtle element of Jewish remorse about the dying Jewish-American Borscht Belt culture in his novel Magic (all the characters talking about Grossingers as the last great Jewish-American vacation resort left in by the Catskills).
Admittedly, Goldman is a curious writer to talk about if you’re discussing Jewish-American fiction. Richard Anderson notes in his 1979 study of Goldman’s novels that Goldman grew up in an essentially secular home. However, Anderson also details many instances where Goldman uses religious images (Jewish and Christian) in his stories, suggesting puzzlement and intrigue about the heritage he missed out on.
In fact, considering Goldman as a Jewish writer who was intrigued, perhaps yearning, for faith goes a long way to explaining a curious feature of his stories. So many of them are pessimistic, yet they are rarely nihilistic.
Anderson observes that the recurring theme in Goldman’s novels is people with idealistic expectations of how the world should work, and how they deal with those expectations being crushed. Think about Buttercup’s shock in The Princess Bride when Wesley doesn’t stop her wedding. Or Babe Levy in Marathon Man, who apparently gets rescued from torture by his brother’s friend, then discovers the man is working with his torturers. Or gambler Nick Escalante in Heat, who wins enough for his dream retirement fund in Vegas… then gets greedy and loses it all in the next round of blackjack. These characters have shocking moments where the ground gets pulled out from under them.
They respond in various ways. Some respond by refusing to mature and rise above their circumstances (Ray Trevitt in The Temple of God). Others resort to violence (Morris Brummel in No Way to Treat a Lady). However, Anderson notes that in some way or another, most of these characters reach a place of perseverance. They may not believe in redemption, but they believe in going on. Life cannot be abdicated. It’s an interesting lens to consider Goldman’s work, given that his father died by suicide when he was 15. Goldman refuses to make life easy in his stories, but affirms that giving up is never an option.
This attitude, that life may not be fair but it is fairer than death (as the fictional version of Goldman says at the end of the novel The Princess Bride) means that his stories can be dark, but he stops shy of nihilism. Usually, nihilism either means the belief that evil triumphs, or that neither good nor evil truly exist. Either way, triumph or growth is impossible; the same things will happen, or perhaps oblivion will finally come. A strong case could be made that Seinfeld, “the show about nothing,” ends on a nihilistic note: the final episode is the characters in prison, but no repentance or growth. The final line of dialogue echoes a conversation that two of these characters had in the pilot episode (how poorly spaced buttons can ruin a collared shirt). In other words, these characters have not grown despite nine years of hijinks (including accidentally having someone deported, and accidentally killing someone else).
Goldman provides some strong acerbic comedy in the novel The Princess Bride, and one could argue that puts him in the same group as Jewish-American writers like Jerry Seinfeld or Larry David: affirming life’s darkness, minus the hope the Hebrew Bible provides that God is out there somewhere and will make it alright, eventually. Call it an attempt to create a philosophy of life when building a theology of life is impossible. Theology is knowledge of God.
However, the fact Goldman doesn’t go so far into nihilism means his stories are perhaps more of a dialogue than a statement about life’s darkness. Yes, there is much pain in life. Yet Goldman’s refusal to give up may make his stories a question: what is the point then? There must be something. While the characters rarely ask this question of God, the story itself presents a question for readers, and perhaps God, to answer.
In this respect, Goldman’s work may be particularly Jewish. As Marty Solomon observes, a key trait of the Psalms is their willingness to pour out the writers’ frustrations to God – to ask why he seems absent, isn’t saving the righteous or punishing the wicked outright at the moment. Abraham Kaplan goes further and suggests a key trait of Jewish theology is being willing to argue with God – not disrespectfully, but to understand how the problem of evil fits with God’s promises.
Granted, Goldman’s stories don’t often have the reaffirmation of God’s goodness that many Psalms have (big laments, then a praise at the end). However, his willingness to wrestle with these questions, without giving up, may be seen as redemptive. He wrote about dark things. He also provided striking scenes of heroism. Wesley staring down Prince Humperdink in The Princess Bride. Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein fighting to tell the Watergate story in All The President’s Men. And others.
Goldman talked many times about his love for stories featuring “stupid courage” like the adventure movie Gunga Din. Doing the thing which is right, virtuous, but ridiculously unlikely to succeed. As a result, his characters rarely find that courage is easy. But they usually rise to the circumstances.
(A slightly different version of this article was previously published on December 21, 2023 on the author’s blog.)
(This article arose out of research that has recently been published in Mythlore, “Whatever Happened to The Princess Bride?: Thoughts for Further William Goldman Research,” and in The Journal of the Fantastic in the Arts, “Get Used to Disappointment: Jewish Comic Fantasy in William Goldman’s The Princess Bride”)
