A “Giant” Grey Zone: Roald Dahl’s Antisemitism Comes to the Stage
In our turbulent cultural climate, where every prominent artistic, intellectual and political figure is under a microscope, it would seem that the last thing we need is another dramatic “re-examinination” of a beloved cultural icon. Yet “Giant,” the award-winning play by British playwright Mark Rosenblatt making its Broadway debut this month, brings the genre to life, as its examination of beloved children’s author Roald Dahl’s antisemitism crackles with energy, tension and nuance.
The common refrain I heard amongst the audience as the curtains closed on “Giant’s” first act was “I was not expecting that.” Indeed, the play begins innocuously, as an old, prickly Dahl, portrayed by the incandescent John Lithgow, leans over proofs for his most recent book “The Witches.” It is 1983, and he prattles back and forth with the representative for his British publisher, Tom Maschler (Elliot Levey) and complains about the noise from his home renovation to his new fiance Felicity “Liccy” Crosland (Rachael Stirling). They are waiting for the arrival of Jessie Stone (Aya Cash), a representative from Dahl’s American publisher. Coming into the play largely blind, I thought I might be in for a snoozer, as Dahl and Tom’s playful banter was obscured by the audience coughing and crunching and still settling into their seats. I geared up for a very British domestic drama, with civil feuds meant to elicit OOHs and AHHs from a somnolent audience.
Only upon Stone’s arrival, a wholly different sort of play kicks into gear, spurred on by a single question by Dahl to the unsuspecting young woman: “Are you Jewish?” Lithgow’s blunt interdiction silenced the crowd’s coughers and munchers, and caused me to grit my teeth and lean forward in my seat. The discomfort expressed by Stone, who is indeed Jewish, seeped into the crowd, and continues to build throughout the play, as the reason for Stone’s visit is revealed and Dahl’s disconcerting and prejudiced behavior escalates.
Dahl, it is revealed, has written an incendiary review of a book about Israel’s 1982 invasion of Lebanon, where he accuses Jews of being a “race of people” that has “switched so rapidly from being much-pitied victims to barbarous murderers,” and calls on world Jewry to “to follow the example of the Germans and become anti-Israeli.” Stone has been deputized to help Tom and Liccy convince Dahl to retract his statements and calm the backlash to the review before his newest novel is published. The review, mixed with Dahl’s consistent antagonism and overall belligerency, provides a platform for heated debates between himself and Stone about Israel and antisemitism. Stone, straining to stay professional, nevertheless takes Dahl’s bait, inciting his temper and forcing Tom to constantly play peacemaker.
Stone, though brave, is often rhetorically deficient. In the course of her extended debate with Dahl, she makes a number of points in Israel’s defense that will be familiar to anyone that has heard a “Stand With Us” representative speak. Her Zionism is of the kind that garners great applause at ADL fundraisers, but whose force can be largely extinguished by Dahl with a well-timed quip. In response to Stone proudly stating she is “able to see Israel’s mistakes and flaws,” Dahl notes that this reminds him of his loyalty to his old friend Colin: “Colin is my Israel, I suppose. Always punching people and blaming the barman.” His response, a deflection rather than substantive engagement, nevertheless elicited roars from the audience and myself. Dahl is fun; Stone next to him is made to look drab and predictable, even when she is in the right.
Tom, who survived the Holocaust as a child, is perhaps the play’s most sympathetic character. He largely maintains his composure in the midst of the heated debate and withstands vicious abuse from Dahl, who calls him a “bootlicker” and a “House Jew.” Both Stone and Dahl accuse Tom of cowardice for merely doing his job, rather than taking a strong stance on geo-political issues he has no ability to affect. “I am English! I am English! I am English!” he yells at a climactic moment in Act Two, an appeal to a Dahl who will never quite accept him as such, and a Stone who sees his life and oppression as a mere cudgel to use to Israel’s advantage. He is an individual, not ignoring his Jewish heritage, but not primarily defined by it; a man who believes in the power of Dahl’s literature and his role in bringing it into the world.
While the rest of the cast and bristly political issues play a role in “Giant,” it is Dahl, the giant at the play’s center, who is its true subject. What are we to make of this hunched-over, domineering, prejudiced, yet brilliant man who can so beautifully capture childhood, in all its fear and glory? How can he at once be so funny and so offensive, so sympathetic and yet so snarling? It is a testament to the play’s writing and Lithgow’s virtuosic performance that Dahl manages to remain likable throughout, at least until the true nature of his prejudice is shown at the play’s very end.
The conundrum at the heart of Dahl’s personality is aptly expressed by Stone: “You’re a belligerent, nasty child. It’s the gift of your work, but the curse of your life.” And it is this part of his character that makes him so easy to forgive, even after the play ends with Dahl making horrific antisemitic comments on the phone to a journalist at the magazine The New Statesman. These comments come off the back of Dahl finally agreeing to do a conciliatory interview in light of his Lebanon War article. His invective against Jews seems to derive less from a blackened heart than the juvenile rebellion of a child. He recognizes that he has been punished for doing something naughty, and leans into naughtiness and self-sabotage with a sly smirk on his face. “Look at me!” Dahl’s knowing gestures and glances to Hallie, his housekeeper, practically shout, as she witnesses him spit black bile into the telephone: “Look at how bad I’m being.” Is this childlike figure genuinely hateful and irredeemable? Or is he having a bad afternoon, after which there will be many other good ones, as Liccy remarks halfway through the play’s second act? It remains up to the audience to decide.
The day before going to the play, I was at a bookstore where the children’s section is filled with Dahl, with no disclaimers. At Jewish middle schools, Dahl is assigned with no compunction. Should Jews not still kvell from Gene Wilder’s iconic performance as Willy Wonka? Many will come out of “Giant” determined never to read Dahl’s books to their children: heaven forfend an antisemite’s name be found on one’s bookshelf! Me? Perhaps I lack proper righteous anger, exhausted as I am by the constant calls to discard the work of “problematic” artists, but I say leave “James and the Giant Peach” alone. One need not ignore Dahl’s horrifying antisemitic diatribes, but, as “Giant” itself illustrates, art can be most interesting and rewarding when it occupies grey moral zones, challenging you to question your judgement of character. Leaving Dahl on the shelf creates such a grey zone, an important lesson in how great art need not come from great people, and how its power may even derive from their flaws.
“Giant” forces us to reckon with Dahl in both his luminosity and darkness: When the curtains close, which side are you left with? Your answer probably reveals more about yourself than Dahl — therein lies “Giant’s” brilliance.
Editor’s Note: I would like to thank Dr. Trapedo and the Jay and Jeanie Schottenstein Honors Program for taking us to see “Giant.”
Photo Caption: Playbill for “Giant”
Photo Credit: Liev Markovich
