
Mordecai: An Early American Family.
By
Emily Bingham. New York: Hill and
Wang, 2003. 346 pages. $26.00 cloth.
Lately, the field of
American Southern
Perhaps
a statement on increased American
tolerance, Emily Bingham’s Mordecai:
An Early American Family is not burdened
with the politicized discourses often
found in American Jewish historical narratives.
Unlike earlier scholars, Bingham
does not feel obligated to provide a
litany of the worthy contributions the Mordecai
family made to Southern society. Nor
does she actively create a triumphalist narrative,
in which the Mordecais overcame
opposition, anti-Semitism, and marginalization
to gain acceptance by white
Protestant Southerners. In fact, Bingham’s
work assumes a priori that the Mordecais
were Southerners and supports recent
conclusions that a single American Southern
Jewish experience does not exist. Bingham
trusts her sources, and her balanced
story effectively chronicles the public
and private lives of a Southern Jewish
family affected by the changing events
and ideologies of the Revolutionary, early
Republic, and Civil War eras. To tie the
members of the Mordecai clan together,
Bingham invents the secular and religious
framework of "enlightened domesticity"
in which the family "seized upon
a protective covenant fusing bourgeois
domesticity, intellectual cultivation,
and religious liberalism" (5). According
to Bingham, this philosophy shaped
individual family members’ world views,
personal decisions, and approaches to
religion and education.
Fulfilling
the project of enlightened domesticity
proved to be a difficult task during
the first half of the 19th century. In many
ways, its concerted emphasis on reason
encouraged the questioning of traditional
family values. Additionally, increased
focus on education, Christianity, gender
norms, sentimental love, notions of Southern
white middle-class respectability, individualism,
and appropriate sexuality created
conflicts between notions of respectability
among the generations. Consequently,
many Mordecais chafed at fulfilling
family expectations of domestic enlightenment
while carving lives that were
personally and publicly satisfying.
Most of the
Mordecai family members had
few problems as children fulfilling the precepts
of enlightened domesticity, but a they
approached adulthood, most rejected their
father’s and grandfather’s notions of
respectability.
Most of the Mordecai men favored
newly developed forms of individualism
and pursued their public and private
goals while barely consulting their fathers
and rarely considering the family. Many
were successful in trade, law, medicine,
and the military. Most did not marry
Jews. Because of coverture laws and reigning
gender philosophies of the day, the
Mordecai women had less freedom to make
their choices, but they still exercised their
own agency. For example, Rachel Mordecai
Lazarus, always the dutiful daughter,
assisted her father in the academy
he founded and helped school several
family members, yet converted to Christianity
on her deathbed after years of wrestling
with her faith. Ellen Mordecai, paled
in Rachel’s shadow, also assisted with
the domestic upkeep of family homes, farm,
and schools, yet converted and maintained
a rather successful living by publishing
her conversion experiences. Caroline
Mordecai Plunkett fell into a deep
depression abiding by her father’s refusal
to accept a suitor, yet ultimately married
Achilles Plunkett, a non-Jew. Only
one daughter, Emma, remained faithful
to Judaism. The third generation proved
to be even more interesting. Rachel Mordecai
Lazarus’s son, Marx Edgeworth Mordecai,
led a rather unorthodox life as he
actively promoted the free love movement.
His sister, Ellen Lazarus, became
a radicalized feminist and was intent
on becoming a physician of alternative
therapies.
Emily
Bingham has accomplished something
truly amazing. To create such a descriptive
composite of the Mordecai family,
she examined thousands of 18th-and 19th-century
diaries, letters, journals, business
logs, and other ephemera. This research
was difficult, time-consuming, and
laborious. Employing an evocative writing
style, Bingham created a work that represents
the best of family biography, one
in which readers may access the connections
between the generations to gain
a clearer understanding of the early 19th-century
Southern experience.
Problems within Bingham’s
work reflect the
genre’s shortcomings and are not the fault
of the author. While framing an entire
history around anti-Semitism is limiting,
the sources Bingham used suggest that
anti-Semitism was virtually nonexistent.
Elsewhere, scholars of Southern
Jewry have argued that anti-Semitism existed
in the 19th-century South
in social relations and discourse, trading
practices, and politics. Bingham’s sources
hint at the existence of anti-Semitism
but fail to fully flesh out
or respond to this anti-Semitism. Enlightened
domesticity emphasizes retreat
into the home, domestic Judaism, and
overcoming perceived shortcomings of
the family. The question begs, "What is
the family
steeling themselves against?" Additionally,
biography privileges historical
voices and sacrifices overarching context.
Contextualizing the Mordecais’ experiences
within larger 19th-century social,
economic, and political systems would
facilitate a more comprehensive understanding
of the Mordecais as Southerners
and Jews. Bingham seemingly anticipates
this though, as she provides an extensive
bibliographic essay at the end of the
book. The essay is divided by topics, making
it easy for interested readers to consult
suggested readings.
The
shortcomings mentioned are minor,
and Mordecai: An Early American Family
is a compelling read to all scholars and
those interested in a wide range of 19th-century
topics, beyond just Southern Jewry.
Those less interested in things academic
will also enjoy the biography as a first-rate
family saga that details the trials and
tribulations of one American Southern
family.
JENNIFER A. STOLLMAN