Mar 26, 2009

Runnin' with the Devil: Satan Personified in Popular Culture

I. Introduction
Culture is a nearly impossible concept to fully understand and there are several competing definitions. In the dictionary, the word "culture" is defined as "the behavior patterns, arts, beliefs, institutions and all other products of human work and thought; also: the characteristic features of everyday existence (as diversions or a way of life) shared by people in a place or time" (American Heritage 2001:213). But culture is so much more than can be contained in a few concise definitions. For the individual, culture is such an ingrained part of life that it becomes an objectified fact. People participate in culturally generated rituals and communicate with symbols with such a frequency that they forget that there was ever a time when these things lacked cultural significance. Popular modern culture is a slightly easier notion to comprehend because it is immediately observable. This popular culture can be seen in literature, film, music, art, on the news, in commercials and even at the pulpit. As Ray B. Browne put it, "popular culture has this two way relationship with our lives - both effecting the values we construct for ourselves and reflecting values we have already constructed - that popular culture taken as a whole is the most common part of our cultural heritage and our day to day present living environment" (Nachbar 1978:4). It is a mirror for society as it reflects the interests and concerns of the masses. And never has there been a character more prolifically portrayed in popular culture than the devil himself. So how is it that Lucifer, the Great Adversary, has persistently and pervasively occupied the imaginations of so many? I would posit that while the Christian tradition claims itself to be strictly monotheistic, the pervasive presence of Satan in modern culture points directly to the underlying dualistic nature of Christianity.

II. What is Dualism?
At this point it is necessary to separate the philosophical definition of dualism, or the belief that reality is divided into two ontological categories, such as mind and matter, from the cosmological definition of dualism. The term dualism here specifically means the belief in two opposing forces, one good, one evil, struggling against one another. This notion of dualism has historically been a popular theodicy , or an answer to the problem of evil. It is not to be confused with polytheism, or the belief in multiple deities. Christianity is traditionally believed to be a strictly monotheistic religious tradition. Monotheism, from the Greek monos, meaning "one" or "single", and theos , meaning "god", means exactly that--the belief in a singular deity. But attempting to fit Satan into a strict monotheism causes some major problems. If God controls the Devil completely, then how is he not to blame for the evil deeds perpetrated by him? If God cannot control Lucifer's actions, then it challenges the view of God as omnipotent. This problem is not unique to Christianity, or even the Abrahamic tradition from which it springs.

Zarathushtra is the central figure in Zoroastrianism, the religion of the ancient Persian Empire, and he is widely regarded by religious scholars as the first monotheist of the western tradition (Fisher 2005:233). Zarathushtra believed in the supremacy of one god, Ahura Mazda, who was similar to the Abrahamic concept of the god Yahweh in that he could create only good. To explain the problem of evil in the face of an omniscient god, Zarathushtra proclaimed that when Ahura Mazda created humanity he gave everyone the opportunity to chose between the two dueling cosmic forces at work in the universe; Spenta Mainyu, the all-good spirit of Ahura Mazda, and Angra Mainyu, the evil, demonic spirit of Ahriman. However, even Zarathushtra's teachings were not strictly dualistic because he believed that ultimately, good would triumph over evil. This is very similar to the way many Christians view the spiritual warfare between God and Satan (Kessler 2008:52).
    
One might think that in modern times, especially after the period of scientific awakening during the enlightenment, that Satan should only be relevant to fundamental Christians who interpret the Bible literally. Indeed, for Christian fundamentalists, Satan is as real and as relevant now as he was to the Puritans. However, the significance of the Devil as a cultural icon suggests that fundamentalists are not the only group who still takes the Devil seriously. American sociologist and theologian Peter Berger theorized that religion, like society itself, was both directly influenced by, and a direct influence on human culture. This system propagated itself through a three-step process: externalization, in which the physical and mental processes of men assimilate themselves into the world; objectification, in which these processes take on a life of their own and are no longer seen as culturally constructed products; and finally, internalization, where society re-appropriates these newly objectified facts as part of its collective consciousness. It is in this manner that the notion of Satan has become so important culturally and occupied the collective imagination of society, regardless of individual theological beliefs (Berger 2001:24).

III. Examples of Satan Personified
The period of the Enlightenment and the birth of modern science more or less forced the world to give up on the Medieval version of Satan as a scaly, cloven-hooved monster, stinking of sulfur, roaming the earth and threatening the salvation of wretched humans. So men transformed the Devil into what they needed him to become to remain relevant as an answer to the problem of evil, even if his role was becoming increasingly indirect. As society progressed, so did the Great Adversary. He remained an important part of the collective cultural imagination, becoming romanticized as a rebel and a revolutionary. One way this can be demonstrated visually is through the physical transformation of Lucifer in art from a hulking monster to a beautiful youth, practically indistinguishable from any human.
    
Through the middle ages, the depiction of Satan in art was fairly uniform. The fallen angel was twisted and grotesque, often represented as a hybrid of man and beast. Hieronymus Bosch's Devil had the head of a falcon, mouth agape as he devoured the souls of the damned and then defecated them into the pit of oblivion. Michael Pacher painted the Evil One as a scaly green creature with spindly legs and the gnarled tusks of a boar. It was not until the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries that this vision of the Beast was challenged.
    
In his short story "Onuphirus", published in 1832, Theophile Gautier presents a modern twist on the demonic that has become the one modern society is most accustomed to. As Robert Muchembled put it in his book, "A History of the Devil", Gautier "established the stock figure of a young dandy-demon, well dressed, with a red moustache, green eyes and a pale face, whose ironic twist of the lips suggests the ability to mock his wretched victims" (Muchembled 2003:199). In an enlightened, post-revolutionary France, this new personification of the Evil One took root very quickly. Perhaps the French had grown tired of the terror that had reigned throughout the revolution. They had seen the devil at the guillotine, and this was their way limiting Satan's ability to spread fear and dread among this overwrought population. The next year Paul Gavarni, a popular French cartoonist, published a cartoon of Satan in the Parisian newspaper "Le Charivari". Gavarni's Lucifer is dressed as a fashionable young Parisian man, escorting two lovely young girls down the street, smiling as one of them reaches up to touch his dainty horns, barely covered by his trendy haircut.
    
This new gentleman-devil was not only changing his appearance, but also his methods. Satan was becoming more internalized. There was no longer any need for him to skulk around the dark places of the earth when his work could be accomplished comfortably, and perhaps more efficiently, in the minds of men. This development, rather than taking any power away from him, made Satan even more dangerous and unpredictable. Mark Twain's swan song, "The Mysterious Stranger", was published posthumously in 1916. This story of a sleepy sixteenth century Austrian town visited by a beautiful young stranger paints a disturbing picture of the Dark Prince in a new, humanistic light.
    
Theodor, the protagonist, and his two friends, Seppi and Nikolaus are relaxing in the woods, having a leisurely discussion about the mysteries of the universe. Suddenly they are approached by a young man who seems to have appeared out of thin air. Twain, it seemed, had also bought into Gautier's concept of the young dandy-demon, describing the handsome youth approaching as well dressed and elegant, with a winning smile. He introduced himself as an angel named Satan, named after his uncle, the Devil. Despite his demonic lineage, this little Satan claims that he was unfallen, perfect and incapable of doing wrong. He could read the boy's minds and filled their pockets with fruit and cake. At first the boys were frightened when Satan demonstrated his incredible powers, but they were soon enthralled by him. Theodor and his friends watched as Satan made minuscule men and women from the dirt, who instantly began to work laboriously building a tiny, perfect castle. No sooner had the little people completed their work than Satan set fire to it with miniature lightning bolts. His tiny creations tried to escape but Satan just nonchalantly swept them back into the flames as if her were swatting at flies. The boys were horrified, but Satan did not understand why they were so upset. Satan explained that the tiny men were of no consequence and he could easily create more for them if they wished. It soon becomes clear that this opinion is extended to all of humanity. Satan considers humans to be a contemptible "museum of diseases...he begins as dirt and departs as stench" (Kahn 1978:37). He is especially contemptuous of man's "moral sense", which he speaks of as a horrible affliction. Satan scoffs at the idea that men believe that this moral sense elevates them above the other animals on earth. To Satan it is this moral sense that has corrupted man beyond redemption, because once man is able to discern good from evil he has the opportunity to choose to do evil, and he often does (Tuckey 1963:10). Satan continually demonstrates this principle to Theodor by simply giving the people in his small village the opportunity to do evil. Satan never has to dirty his hands by directly interfering, he has only to rely upon the “defect” in human nature that causes them to distrust their neighbor, but still remain desirous to appear well in front of them. One by one Theodor watches the people of his village reveal their true nature, and by the end of the story, he has become completely disillusioned, not only with his fellow man, but God as well. It is then, when Theodor is at his most vulnerable, that Satan decides to deliver his final blow. He tells Theodor that the whole of existence is merely a vision, a terrible dream created in Theodor's own mind. Theodor is the only thing that is real, and even he is just a sentient thought floating through an empty universe. Satan wonders at how Theodor did not know the truth all along, for nowhere but in a dream could God create such a miserable, bitter, short-lived creature such as man and then "with altogether divine obtuseness invite this poor, abused slave to worship him” (Tuckey 55). Satan vanishes, leaving Theodor dumbfounded at the now obvious truth, and the reader slowly realizes that destroying Theodor's faith in God had been Satan's ultimate goal all along.

IV. Our Love Affair with the Faustian Legend
Human culture has had a long-time love affair with the notion of bargaining with the Devil. This notion is rooted in antiquity and it not limited to Christian mythology. The Persian epic poet Firdusi tells a tale of the demon Iblis promising the Arabian Prince Zohak to "place him higher than the sun" if he will only sign a pact with him (Rudwin 1970:169). Ahriman is said to have made a failed attempt to bargain with Zarathushtra in exchange for his allegiance. Maximilian Rudwin, in his book "The Devil in Legend and Literature", suggests that the belief in the validity of a devil-compact came to the Jews during their years of captivity under Zoroastrian rulers, and they subsequently passed it on into the Christian tradition (Rudwin 169). This belief took an especially strong hold in the middle ages when Pope Innocent VIII recognized man's ability to form a pact with Satan in his "Summis desiderantes affectibus", Latin for “desiring with great ardor”, a papal bull issued on December 5, 1484 (Rudwin 173). This fell directly in line with the medieval notion of Lucifer, prowling the earth collecting human souls.
    
The Faustian Legend has endured the centuries to become one of the most retold stories in literary history. Dozens of novels, plays, films, operas and even ballets have been based on, or inspired by this age-old concept. Americans have created a special relationship with Faust. Nathaniel Hawthorne appropriated the framework for a number of his works. The Devil was still a very real, physical presence to Puritans in 18th century New England, and Hawthorne was no exception. For Hawthorne, sin itself was tantamount to a pact with Satan and his most illustrious works, such as "The Scarlet Letter" and "Young Goodman Brown", paint a picture of "individuals actively participating in their own damnation" (Grim 1988:142).
    
By the early 20th century, the Constitution and the principles fought for in the American Revolution had become embedded in our collective national psyche, giving the notion of Faust a uniquely American twist. There is no better example of this than Stephen Vincent Benet's "The Devil and Daniel Webster". Published in 1936, Benet tells the story of Jabez Stone, a struggling New Hampshire farmer. As Stone stands in the middle of a barren field with a broken plow, a sick horse, a sore thumb and two children down with the measles, he rails against the sky "I vow, it's enough to make a man want to sell his soul to the Devil! And I would too, for two cents!" (Benet 1937:17) The next day a soft-spoken man with a broad smile dressed all in black came around asking for Stone. Jabez was a religious man, and he knew who the stranger really was, but being between a rock and a hard place, he signed a pact with his own blood. Stone immediately began to prosper. His farm was the envy of the entire valley and there was talk of him running for the State Senate. He had managed to bargain with the stranger for an extension of three years on his "mortgage", but as his time was drawing near, he went to find Daniel Webster. Webster was a lawyer who was said to be so virtuous and patriotic that when he began to speak, stars and stripes would fall from the heavens. Webster was only too delighted to take Stone's case, "for if two New Hampshiremen aren't a match for the Devil, we might as well give the country back to the Indians!  (Benet 33)". The stranger shows up to collect his property, and Webster argues every point of the contract. When Webster tells the stranger that it is unlawful for any American citizen to be forced into the service of a foreign prince, the stranger scoffs at the idea of being a foreigner.

      "And who with better right?" said the
    stranger, with one of his terrible smiles. "When
    the first wrong was done to the first Indian, I
    was there. When the first slaver put out for the
    Congo, I stood on her deck. Am I not in your
    books and stories and beliefs, from the first set-
    tlements on? Am I not spoken of, still, in every
    church in New England? 'Tis true the North
    claims me for a Southerner, and the South for a
    Northerner, but I am neither. I am merely an
    honest American like yourself-and of the best
    descent-for, to tell the truth, Mr. Webster,
    though I don't like to boast of it, my name is
    older in this country than yours." (Benet 39)

Webster insists that the case is a constitutional issue and demands a trial for his client. He says he does not care where the trial takes place so long as the Judge and Jury are Americans. The stranger produces a jury comprised of some of the most notorious and dastardly characters from American history, including Blackbeard the pirate, and the loyalist Walter Butler who led a troop of Indians in the Cherry Valley Massacre. The presiding judge was Justice Hathorne , the only magistrate over the Salem Witch Trials who never repented his involvement. The odds were clearly stacked against Webster, but he knows he stands on firm constitutional ground, and he argues his case passionately and soundly. In the end, the jury of the damned finds for the defendant, and Webster expels the devil who "hasn't been seen in the state of New Hampshire from that day to this. I'm not talking about Massachusetts or Vermont"  (Benet 61). 

At the same time that Daniel Webster was putting his boot to the Devil's backside, there was a real life Faust roaming the back roads of depression era Mississippi. This man would eventually leave his own indelible mark on the legend.

    I gotta keep movin'
    Blues fallin' down like hail
    And the days keeps on worryin' me
    There's a hellhound on my trail
    -Robert Johnson, Hellhound On My Trail

Robert Johnson was born in Hazlehurst, Mississippi in 1911. He was the illegitimate son of a plantation worker, born blind in his right eye. When fellow blues artist Son House recalled meeting Johnson for the first time in 1930 he remembered him as an annoying "little boy" who was lacking in his guitar skills, but played a passable harmonica. Johnson left a trail of failed marriages and illegitimate children across the northern half of Mississippi and lived a mostly itinerant existence through most of his late teens and early twenties. He recorded a few singles, but only one of them came remotely close to being a hit. The details of Johnson's death are shadowy to say the least, but all accounts agree that in the summer of 1938, Johnson was slipped a glass of poisoned whiskey at a country jook outside of Greenwood, Mississippi. Rumors suggest that he may have been engaged in an affair with the wife of the man who owned the establishment. Johnson died a painful death three days later on August 16, 1938, just a few months after his 27th birthday. No one was ever charged in connection with his death and he was eventually buried at the expense of the county. Robert Johnson remained a virtual unknown for several decades after his death, his recordings being passed around a small community of jazz and blues enthusiasts. In 1966 Pete Welding, a reporter for Down Beat Magazine, published an interview with Son House about Johnson. House made an offhand comment about the speed with which Johnson's guitar skill had progressed from the time they first met, saying Johnson must have "sold his soul to the devil to learn to play like that" (Pearson 2003:89). The story caught fire. Three years later Columbia records remastered Johnson's recordings and repackaged the man himself with a new dark arts aesthetic, hyping up the Faustian echoes of his legend. The reissues were released to rave reviews and new fans and reviewers alike were happy to buy into the story of Johnson's shadowy compact with the Devil. Record producer Samuel Charters wrote "As he sings he seems to cry out in a high falsetto voice. Johnson seemed emotionally disturbed by the image of the devil...the figure seems to be his torment" (Pearson 25). In reality Johnson only had one song that specifically mentioned the Satan, and despite countless interviews with family and friends, no one has ever confirmed Johnson mentioning any deals with the devil. Son House refused to discuss the subject in all subsequent interviews. Yet with overwhelming evidence to the contrary the legend has persisted and grown. Today Johnson is recognized as one of the all time greatest blues musicians and is referred to as the "grandfather of Rock-n-Roll", but he is never discussed without mention of his demonic connection. "Experts" have gone so far as to identify the crossroads where Johnson conducted his black deal, claiming it to be the intersection of US 61 and US 49 in Clarksdale, Mississippi. It is a popular tourist attraction for blues and occult enthusiasts alike.

V. Conclusion
History has seen very few absolute dualisms, but I would venture that there are just as few absolutely monotheistic religions. The ever present figure of Satan, lurking in the dark corners of human culture, is proof of Christianities yearning for the convenience of a dualistic tradition. Who better to serve as the scapegoat for the problem of evil than Old Nick, the Father of Lies, the Prince of Darkness. For centuries, people have heaped their woes on Satan's back rather than look to God for the answer to their misery. But Satan is culturally significant, not only to Christians, for another reason. I think Fyodor Dostoevsky summed the problem up rather neatly in his novel “The Brothers Karamazov". Ivan and his brother Alyosha are having a theological discussion about the reality of the Devil in the the world. Ivan is a strong believer in God and the Devil, but he is willing to concede on obvious point. "I think if the devil doesn't exist, then man has created him. He has created him in his own image and likeness." Alyosha ponders this for a moment, and retorts with, "Just as man created God, then?” (Dostoevsky 1976: 220). In other words, if the Devil was just a social construct of human culture, what could that imply about God? The belief in Satan is supported by the belief in God, because if one is willing to admit that the devil is just a product of human imagination then, it would have to be considered that God could be also.

Mar 22, 2009

Fiddler on the Roof


Sholem Aleichem first introduced the world to Tevye the milkman in 1894. His long time editor, Mordacai Spektor, was initially against the idea and reluctant to publish, thinking that Tevye's story was already irrelevant to a modern public. Sholem Aleichem rebuffed him, saying: "Please don't be offended - the world will certainly like it. I don't know whether this is because the world knows more than you do, or because it knows nothing at all" (Frieden 1). To say that the world likes Tevye is a gross understatement. The story of Tevye, the poor but hardworking dairyman from Anatevka, has been translated from the original Yiddish into a dozen different languages and adapted into a multi Tony award winning Broadway musical as well as three major films. The 1971 Hollywood film version, Fiddler on the Roof, which this review will focus on, received three Academy Awards and two Golden Globes. The reason that Tevye has retained his relevance and popularity for over a century is the timeless nature of his story. As Seth Wolitz, holder of the Gale chair in Jewish studies at UT Austin, put it "Tevye encapsulated the world of tradition coming to terms with modernization" (Wolitz 514).

Indeed, "Tradition!" is Tevye's mantra. He is the classic example of what Wolitz refers to as the folk Jew archetype that is representative of the romanticized "old country". Even though he may not fully understand the customs themselves, Tevye understands their importance perfectly well. The Russian Jews of Anatevka lead a precarious existence alongside their anti-Semitic, Gentile neighbors. Tradition provides them with the balance they need to survive. As Tevye tells us, "because of our traditions, every one of us knows who he is and what God expects of him...Without our traditions, our lives would be as shaky as a fiddler on the roof." It is only in his private conversations with God that Tevye dares to question the validity of the traditions he fights so hard to uphold. These "dialogs" with God are the most striking feature of Tevye's character. It is a unique tradition of Judaism to question God, and Tevye is a modern day Moses, questioning God's actions in Anatevka just as Moses did in Egypt. But this does not weaken Tevye's devotion to God or imply any lack of faith. As Rabbi Bradley Shavit Artson said, "questioning God’s justice is actually an assertion of love and loyalty with those who are suffering—it is the outer evidence of an inner passion for justice and for goodness" (Artson). Of course, there is never any answer to his constant questions, and Tevye is left to puzzle out the divine will of God alone.

However content Tevye may be to live in ignorance of the outside world, eventually the outside world comes to him. Tevye's world is thrown into disorder by his three eldest daughters, who challenge tradition with their unorthodox choices in love, and the increasingly violent political environment of pre-revolutionary, Tsarist Russia. As Tevye deals with each of his daughters successive rebellions and the growing anti-Semitism his people face, he becomes the embodiment of Jewish adaptability. Wolitz suggests that the theme of Fiddler is "Jewish adaptability as the key to Jewish continuity" (Wolitz 527). This adaptability proves key to Tevye's own survival at the conclusion of the film.

We meet Tevye on a Friday, just before the Sabbath begins. He immediately breaks the fourth wall and addresses the audience directly as he tells us about life inAnatevka. He quickly engages in his favorite pastime, quoting "the good book". Of course Tevye's quotations are never correct, but always relevant to the situation at hand. Tevye introduces us to the character of the fiddler. Wolitz considers the image of the fiddler to be "central to the aesthetic effectiveness of the musical, for it is the emblem of enduring Jewish culture asTevye is its folk representative" (Wolitz 526). While Tevye is finishing his deliveries in the village he and the other the men in Anatevka receive news of Jews being evicted from another shtetl. As the men stand sharing their distaste for the Tsar and his edicts, we are introduced to Perchik. Perchik is a university student from Kiev with plans to change the world, and his arrival at the same time as such terrible political news is obvious foreshadowing. He chastises the men of the village who are content to remain ignorant of the outside world. Since he left Kiev, Perchik has been wandering from town to town trying to scratch out a living by giving lessons to children. When Tevye tells him he has five daughters, Perchik is delighted. He tells Tevye that “Girls are people too!” and the conservative rabbi's son proclaims him a radical. But Tevye has taken a liking to Perchik, even if he find his view of the world being starkly divided between rich and poor to be oversimplified. He invites Perchik to stay with his family in exchange for lessons for his daughters and takes him home to join their Sabbath meal.

As Tevye is finishing his work in town, Yenta the matchmaker is paying a visit to his wife Golde at their home as she prepares the Sabbath meal. Tzietel is Tevye's oldest daughter and nearly twenty years old. Yenta, the village matchmaker has been unsuccessfully attempting to find her a husband for some time. As the eldest, Tzietel must be matched before any of her four younger sisters can be considered for marriage. Finally, Yenta has found a match for Tzietel that she is certain Tevye and Golde cannot pass up. The rich butcher, Lazar Wolf has cast his eye on Tzietel. Golde is thrilled, but she knows that Tevye has never been fond of Lazar. She decides not to tell Tevye exactly what Lazar wants, but insists that Tevye go and speak with him personally after the Sabbath is over. However, the audience soon becomes privy to the secret love between Tzietel and her childhood friend, the tailor Motel Kamzoil. Tzietel warns Motel of Yenta's visit and insists that he ask Tevye for her hand in marriage that night before any match can be made. Unfortunately, Motel is too timid and backs down in the face ofTevye's furious temper. After the Sabbath Tevye meets with Lazar Wolf, who asks for Tzietel's hand in marriage. At first, Tevye is disapproving of the idea. He wanted his daughters to marry learned men and Lazar, as Tevye tells us, is only capable of carrying on a conversation if it is about kidneys or livers. Tevye takes his paternal role as the ultimate authority over his daughters marriages very seriously. There is a long moment of internal deliberation in which he considers Tzietel's best interests. Tevye tells himself, "with a butcher, my daughter would surely never go hungry. And he will try to make her happy." He eventually agrees to the match, overjoyed with himself for being able to give his daughter a rich husband and, as he sees it, all the comforts of life.Tevye and Lazar-Wolf drink and dance in celebration of their agreement. After a long night of reverie, Tevye stumbles back home only to cross paths with the town constable. Tevye has known the Constable his whole life and they have a tenuous friendship. He tells Tevye that he has received orders to stage a "demonstration" against the Jews in Anatevka. "A pogrom, here?" Tevye asks, but the Constable is quick to downplay the news, telling Tevye that it is probably nothing to worry about. Tevye again looks to God, asking why he should recieve such bad news on the same night he is celebrating his daughters engagement. As he continues home, Tevye sees the fiddler and they dance, despite his melancholy mood.

But when Tevye informs Tzietel of his agreement with Lazar-Wolf, she tells him that she does not want to marry the butcher. Tzietel breaks down, begging Tevye not to make her marry the butcher. Tevye is confused by Tzietel's outburst, but agrees that his daughter's happiness is more important than any agreement. Motel finally makes his appearance, telling Tevye he has a solution to the problem of finding a match for his eldest daughter. "This match fits like a glove. It was made exactly to measure." Tevye, already frustrated and still hungover from his meeting with Lazar Wolf, becomes enraged. "Stop talking like a tailor and tell me who is it!" When Motel tells Tevye that he is the perfect match for Tzietel, Tevye laughs in his face. He scoffs at the idea that Motel would circumvent the longstanding matchmaking tradition and take matters into his own hands. Motel tells Tevye that over a year ago he and Tzietel had given each other a pledge that they would be married. Tevye explodes, telling the cowering couple that "some things I cannot, I will not allow! Marriages are arranged by the Papa!" He roars at Motel, telling him that he cannot marry Tzietel because he is just a poor tailor. But Motel surprises everyone as he shouts back, "Even a poor tailor is entitled to some happiness!" Tevye is impressed by Motel finally acting like a man and after one last shout of "Tradition!", he acquiesces with a shrug. Tevye concocts a wild, prophetic dream in order to break the news of the engagement to Golde. He tells Golde that her dead grandmother congratulated Tevye on finding the perfect match for Tzietel and then Lazar Wolf's wife Frumah Sarah flew out of her tomb to warn Tevye of the fatal consequences that would occur if his daughter were to marry her husband. Golde is extremely superstitious and after hearing Tevye's dreadful vision she quickly agrees that it is best for Tzietel to marry the tailor. Sholem Aleichem hinted at the doom nature of Lazar and Tzietel's marriage from the beginning. Wolitz points out, "in Jewish kosher food laws you cannot mix dairy (Tevye the dairyman) with meat (Lazar-Wolf the butcher)" (Wolitz 518).

Motel and Tzietel are married, and the ceremony is a paragon of Jewish custom. They are wed under a chuppah in the center of town with the entire shtetl present to witness their vows. The fiddler is present, watching over their vows and the following celebration. Everyone celebrates happily, until an argument breaks out between Tevye and Lazar-Wolf about their broken agreement. Perchik interrupts them with a tirade against tradition. He insists that it's the right of the bride to choose her bridegroom, not the fathers. He tears down the rope that separates the men from the women and asks Tevye's daughter Hodel to dance. At first everyone is horrified, but then Tevye follows suit insisting that Golde dance with him and soon the whole shtetl is dancing together. The reveling is interrupted when pogromniks storm the town destroying property and burning houses. While no one is killed, the villagers are left shaken, standing in the wreckage that was their little corner of the world. Tevye urges his family to stop standing around and start cleaning up. The last shot before the film's intermission is Tevye, holding a broken loaf of challah, looking up at God, asking why and once again, receiving no answer.

The seasons change and now it is fall in Anatevka. Tevye informs us that things have worked out well for Motel and Tzietel. They may be extremely poor, but as Tevye tells us "they are so happy they don't know how miserable they are." Meanwhile, another romance has been flourishing. Hodel is Tevye's second and most beautiful daughter. She has a sharp wit and a bright mind and she has found a kindred spirit in the revolutionary, Perchik. One day, by the river, Perchik tells Hodel that he must leave Anatevka and return to Kiev to rally the workers for the coming revolution. Hodel is crushed. Perchik had treated her as an intellectual equal and challenged her notions of what it meant to love someone. Perchik tells Hodel that before he goes, he must ask her an important political question, a question of marriage. Perchik tells her that " like everything else, the relationship between a man and a woman has a socioeconomic base. Marriage must be founded on mutual beliefs. A common attitude and philosophy towards society." Perchik promises that he will send for Hodel as soon as he can and she happily agrees to marry him. As they walk back towards the village they meet Tevye on the road. Perchik tells Tevye that he must leave Anatevka, but that he and Hodel are to be congratulated on their engagement. Tevye is outraged that Perchik would think of marrying his daughter just as he is leaving. He forbids the pair to marry, but Perchik informs him that they are not asking for his permission, the simply want his blessing. This catches Tevye completely off guard. He considers the couple, seeing how obvious Hodel's love for Perchik is. Tevye has become more and more aware of how the times are changing. "After all," he tells God, "our old ways were once new, weren't they? It is a new world, a new world. Love." After a moment of reflection he decides to give Perchik and Hodel his blessing and his permission. He doesn't try to sugarcoat the news for Golde this time, telling her straight out that he gave them permission to marry because they are in love. When Tevye asks Golde if she is in love with him, she doesn't seem to understand the question. They have been married for twenty-five years. They have shared countless joys and sorrows as they worked and raised five daughters together. Whether they love each other or not makes no difference. However, after considering,Golde decides that she does indeed love Tevye . He happily tells her that he loves her as well, and they decide that even though it makes no difference, after such a long time together it is nice to know.

The seasons once more and now it is winter. Perchik is in Kiev preaching Marxism when he is arrested by Tsarist troops. When he sends a letter to Hodel informing her of his conviction, she decides to join him in the prison settlement in Siberia. Tevye brings her to the railroad station and Hodel tries to explain her decision to leave the home that she loves. Tevye fights to hold back his emotion as he helps Hodel board the train. He knows that this may be the last time he ever sees his daughter, as sending a child to Siberia is tantamount to a death sentence.

Meanwhile, Chava, Tevye's third and most beloved daughter has been carrying on a clandestine affair with a Gentile boy named Fyedka. When Tevye sees them together in the village, he seems to know what is going on and when Chava approaches him about Fyedka he makes his feelings very plain. "A bird may love a fish, but where would they make a home?" Chava tries to tell Tevye that times change, clearly hoping that his tolerance of her sisters unorthodox relationships would extend to her as well. But Chava's situation is extraordinary. Tzietel's and Motel's pledge to marry was unusual, and Perchik may have been on the radical fringe of Jewish society, but Fyedka is an outsider and he has no place in Tevye's world. Tevye tells Chava that there are things that will never change for their people and that she is forbidden to see or speak of Fyedka ever again. Chava ignores her father's words and she and Fyedka are married in secret in a Christian Orthodox church. When Chava disappears from home, Golde goes into the Christian church to ask the priest for information. Many considered this a gaff on the part of director Norman Jewison, saying that no orthodox Jew would have ever entered a church even in the most extreme situations. The scene itself proves to be very moving and the audience can sense the level of Golde's desperation as she stands in the chapel waiting to speak to the priest. Golde finds Tevye on the road and tells him the news of Chava's marriage. He is silent with grief for only a moment, wondering where he could have gone wrong with his little Chavala, but then he tells Golde to go home. "We have other children at home. You have work to do, I have work to do. Go home...Chava is dead to us! We'll forget her. Go home." Golde is heartbroken, but she obeys Tevye and returns home to tend to their youngest daughters. As Tevye starts back down the road, determined to continue with his work, he is approached by Chava and she begs him to accept her relationship with Fyedka. Tevye once again takes a moment to reflect as he speaks to God about what the correct reaction should be. Tevye loves Chava, but intermarriage in this time and place is not something that he knows cannot be tolerated. "If I bend that far, I may break." Tevye turns and walks away as a distraught Chava screams after him.

More time passes and the villagers have begun to hear rumors of more Jews being evicted from their homes. As they gather to quarrel about what may or may not be true, they are approached by the Constable. He tells them that the Tsar has issued an edict and all the Jews in the district must sell their property and leave Anatevka in three days. The people are angry at first and there is talk of defending themselves against the Tsar's troops. They quickly realize that this plan is hopeless. The console themselves by reminiscing how hard life had been for them in Anatevka ." Someone should have set a match to this place years ago." The town passes by in tableau as the villagers prepare to leave the place that has always been their home. When the day comes to depart,Chava returns to her family to tell them that she and Fyedka are also leaving Anatevka. "We cannot stay among people who can do such things to others." Tevye ignores her as he secures their belongings in the wagon. Fyedka eventually calls Chava away, and as she begins to walk away Tevye tells her quietly, "may God be with you." Chava calls out to tell them she will write from Cracow, and Golde tells her they family is traveling to New York to stay with her brother Avram. The last we see of Anatevka is the long, staggering line of the evicted slog their way through the mud, and the Constable standing in the middle of the empty shtetl.

Tevye's situation may seem bleak, two of his daughters are gone, he's been forced out of the only home he has ever known and he is bringing his family to an unfamiliar city in a foreign country. But this is not an unfamiliar position for the Jewish people. As Mordcha the innkeeper had reminded them, "Our forefathers ave been forced out of many, many places at a moments notice." So once again Tevye finds himself following in the footsteps of Moses. He brings his family and his traditions into the new promised land of America, truly a stranger in a strange land. "Tevye becomes the personification of the Jewish immigrant and the universal grandfather of Jewish America" (530). Pulling the cart loaded with all his earthly possessions, Tevye hears the familiar strains of the fiddlers melody, and he turns and beckons him to follow his family into the new world.