Years ago when Aaron Lansky — then a young graduate student — set out to collect and save old Yiddish books from destruction, he never envisioned his efforts would result in a national institution.
But the National Yiddish Book Center, which he founded in 1980, has rescued 1.5 million volumes from oblivion, becoming America’s fastest-growing Jewish cultural organization.
Lansky’s search for Yiddish literature took him up and down the East Coast and led him to many memorable visits at the homes of aging Jews who wanted cherished literature to be passed on.
“It was like they were giving me their inheritance,” said Lansky, 43, feeling nostalgic while in San Francisco last week about the early days of his Amherst, Mass.-based center. Lansky was in town to give a talk on Yiddish culture at Congregation Emanu-El and for private meetings concerning the book center.
In the old days, he recalled, “I would spend hours with people, drinking tea in their kitchen. They would tell stories. It was wonderful. But they’re probably all gone now.”
Lansky began taping the conversations and promises to write a book some day.
But presently, he still has more books to save. Some are by such celebrated authors as Sholem Aleichem and Isaac Bashevis Singer, but many others are far more obscure, like “Smugglers” by Oyzer Varshavsky, a personal favorite.
“It’s about the underworld of Jewish smugglers in Poland in the ’20s and ’30s,” Lansky said. “It’s just a great book. It would make a good movie. But I could give you a hundred titles I like.”
With about 1,000 books pouring in each week, the National Yiddish Book Center has come a long way. Boasting 30,000 members, it is “one of the largest Jewish cultural organizations in the country,” said Lansky.
Now the center is entering a new, revolutionary age of book preservation, with the help of small and large donations, most notably a $500,000 grant from Steven Spielberg’s Righteous Persons Foundation for the creation of The Steven Spielberg Digital Yiddish Library.
“Collecting and distributing Yiddish books is the start of our work,” Lansky said. “Now, the goal is to open up these books and share the content with a broader audience.”
Most of the Yiddish books dating back to the 1860s are printed on acidic, wood-pulp paper, which inevitably deteriorates. “We had to find a solution for this,” said Lansky, “because the demand for these books has been growing exponentially in the last 20 years with the whole field of Jewish studies expanding.”
After researching state-of-the-art book preservation technology for two years, the center is embarking on an estimated five-year, $2.2 million project to digitize the 35,000 different titles in its collection, which Lansky said is a first.
“I don’t know of an entire literature being digitized yet,” he said. “Yiddish is leading the way for a change. We can be a pioneer because it’s a finite literature and it’s not too big. And we are breaking ground because the need is so urgent.”
The process of digitizing the books begins with scanning every book, a phase expected to take two years. Once the book becomes available, anyone may e-mail an order and a new bound copy on acid-free paper will be produced in 30 seconds at a factory in Pennsylvania. Cost to the consumer is $15. “It’s such a breakthrough,” Lansky said.
Some selections will be available on CD-ROM and eventually — when downloading becomes speedier — selections will be accessible on the Web.
Spielberg’s foundation contributed $250,000 to the center in the past, helping fund the organization’s permanent home on a 10-acre apple orchard on the Hampshire College campus.
The 2-year-old, 37,000-square foot complex, which cost $8 million to build, may resemble a pristine version of an Old World shtetl on the outside. But inside, the facility is much more than a book repository, containing exhibit, educational and entertainment space.
With its new home, the center has become more tourist-friendly. Past rented sites included a former silk mill, an abandoned roller rink, an old schoolhouse and Lansky’s pick for least desirable space, an old factory loft. “It was the worst,” he said. “It wasn’t heated and we had to wear fingerless gloves while we worked.”
Along with Spielberg’s own Shoah Project, Lansky sees the film director’s Jewish philanthropy as “coming full circle.”
“He documented the process of destruction whereby the Nazis sought to exterminate the Jews of Europe,” he said. “With this new project, we’re now accomplishing to preserve the culture which the Nazis sought to destroy.”
Some may argue that technology will save Yiddish books just in time. But realistically, how many people can appreciate them unless they’re translated?
Lansky admitted the audience for Yiddish books will always be small. Only 1 percent of the center’s members can read Yiddish.
Also, he has not bought into the so-called “Yiddish revival.”
“There’s no Yiddish revival. There can only be one when people start speaking the language,” he said. “What is happening is a growing awareness in the Jewish community in the need for historical knowledge and a growing appreciation of Yiddish culture. It’s more of a discovery and celebration of Yiddish culture.”