The Books of Jacob

A key question posed throughout The Books of Jacob is the sincerity of Jacob’s Messianic claims. Jacob offers his fellow Jewish people a route to salvation at a time when they are frequently oppressed in violent ways by the Christian or Muslim societies that they inhabit. The role of the Messiah is part of a mystical tradition, in which Jacob casts himself as the natural successor to men like Sabbatai Tzvi. Throughout the novel, the Messianic figure is problematic because the lines between truth and fiction, and faith and opportunism, become increasingly blurred.

Jacob elevates himself above others and, as a part of this elevation, his rules permit him to indulge himself. According to Jacob’s reinterpretation of traditional religious rules, he is not beholden to dietary restrictions or bound by monogamy. He can eat whatever he wants and have sex with whomever he pleases. In this sense, Jacob’s radical religious reformations seem particularly cynical and self-serving. By apparent coincidence, the religion he preaches is one which satisfies his need for instant gratification. He encourages his followers to break these rules in a similar fashion; since they break these taboos, Jacob is forcing his followers to alienate themselves from society and bringing them further under his control. Even when he is satisfying other people’s indulgences, he is performing a cynical act of manipulation. Jacob never performs a miracle and, when he is taken away from his followers, his teachings leave them without any guidance. Jacob’s self-stated power to defy death is revealed to be without merit and he does not equip his followers with the tools needed to survive without him. Though he may claim to be a Messiah, the novel portrays him as a man who is willing to wield this title as a way to satisfy his forbidden urges.

The idea of Jacob’s Messianic claims as being cynical and self-serving is further complicated by Jacob’s consistency in sticking to his claims, which enables others to interpret him as they see fit. For example, Moliwda spends years helping Jacob and the Contra-Talmudists as they fight for recognition in Poland and other countries. By his own admission, he is shocked to discover that Jacob may sincerely believe himself to be the Messiah. Moliwda always assumed that Jacob was a conman and that his religious revelations were a scheme, designed to either make him rich or to give him power. This misunderstanding of Moliwda begs the question of why Moliwda would help such a Messiah whom he did not believe to be the Messiah. The answer is that Moliwda is charmed by Jacob. He recognizes Jacob’s charisma and he helps the Contra-Talmudists as a form of intellectual curiosity, intrigued by just how well he can debate and reason with the governments and noblemen of the various countries they visit. The plight of the Contra-Talmudists becomes a way for Moliwda to reaffirm his own identity. The religious reality of his role in the novel is to show that the sincerity of the Messiah does not really matter. Religion exists outside of mysticism and faith; instead, religion is built on charm and a desire to find an identity.

The religious reality of Jacob himself is rendered irrelevant by his death. The Christian leaders of Offenbach gather together and Jacob’s status as a Messiah or a conman is reduced to a gossip item in the halls of true power. These people establish reality, writing their version of history which is entirely separate from the experiences of Jacob’s followers. The question of whether Jacob was sincere becomes irrelevant, especially when contrasted with the dismissive attitudes of the people who really hold power. In the end, the wider question of Messianism—and Jacob’s own role in it—is left unresolved.