When Peter Rabbit Met Pirkei Avot

Outside the Gra shul in Jerusalem’s Sha’are Chesed area one often finds piles of unwanted books. Some come at a price and a small tin, chained to a nearby post or railing, is there to stimulate the conscience of honest purchasers. Other books are simply abandoned. The books are almost entirely in Hebrew and on Jewish religious subjects: worn-old Talmudical tractates, classic commentaries and outdated sets of subsequently reprinted texts will be found there, together with unwanted copies of monographs by hopeful local authors. I check these book piles regularly and often pick up hitherto unfamiliar commentaries on Pirkei Avot. Some bear inscriptions or dedications; many have the appearance of being unread.

Last week I picked up two books that stood in stark contrast with one another. One, The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter, is one of the most-read books on the planet. First published in 1902, it has been translated into 36 languages and has sold more than 45 million copies.  The other is Etz Chadashah al Masechet Avot by Tzvi Yehuda Gottlieb. Published in 1985, this slim volume is dedicated to the memory of the author’s grandparents, one of whom (after whom he was named) was a Rav in Kolno, Poland, in the latter part of the 19^th century.

Despite its popularity, The Tale of Peter Rabbit does not sit comfortably with the messages of Pirkei Avot. Together with his siblings Flopsy, Mopsy and Cotton-tail, Peter goes out to play. His mother expressly warns him not to enter the garden of Mr McGregor. While the other rabbits comply with their mother’s request, Peter does not. He enters the forbidden garden, steals and eats various food items that Mr McGregor grows there. Having contracted indigestion through his over-indulgence in this forbidden food, he loses his shoes, his jacket and his dignity in the course of fleeing from Mr McGregor. The tale ends with his mother, far from scolding him for his disobedience and trespass, puts him to bed with some camomile tea to sooth his indigestion while his siblings tuck into a delicious supper.

Avot 5:13 teaches us that one who says “what’s mine is mine, what’s yours is mine” is wicked but Peter takes Mr McGregor’s produce as his own. There is no word of repentance, despite the emphasis Avot places on this virtue at 2:15, 4:13 and 4:22. Nor is there any tochachah, rebuke, of the sort that features in Avot 6:6. Peter has plainly not considered that everything he does is, as it were, a matter of record (2:1) for which he will have to answer (3:1, 4:29). I could go on. 

Sha’are Chesed is a largely charedi part of Jerusalem and I was surprised to find Peter Rabbit there at all. Apart from the fact that it is in English and reflects secular values, the handsome illustrations include depictions of females and some of the rabbits are plainly not dressed modestly—or at all. Still, I was disheartened to see that a commentary on Pirkei Avot and the path that Peter should have taken was discarded too—particularly since The Tale of Peter Rabbit showed far more signs of having been read than did the Etz Chadashah al Masechet Avot.