Advertising occultism in the Jewish press in Poland

ABSTRACT

Press advertisements are a key source for the history of Jewish occultism in Eastern Europe. From the late nineteenth century, modern occult currents engaged many Jews in Eastern Europe, who consulted with mediums, attended occult performances and lectures, and consumed occult literature, whether in Hebrew, Yiddish, Polish, or Russian. For these Jews, the hidden realities represented by occultism conveyed practical knowledge, entertainment, assurance, and the possibility of belief in a higher reality. Their occult activities left a paper trail in the form of advertisements placed in Jewish newspapers across Eastern Europe. This article considers occult-related advertisements published in the Jewish press in early-twentieth-century Poland, arguably the centre of Jewish occultism in Eastern Europe. By tracing occult advertisements across four decades of the Hebrew, Yiddish, and Polish press in Poland, a picture emerges of the dynamic occult marketplace that reached Jews across Eastern Europe, the economics of this marketplace, and the social changes that spurred its development. Jewish press advertisements thus not only shed light on the physiognomy of Jewish occultism in Poland in the early-twentieth century, but also tell us a great deal about Jewish experiences of modernity in these years as a whole.

KEYWORDS:

• Occultism
• press advertisements
• Yiddish press
• East European Jewry
• early-twentieth century

Press advertisements are a key source for the history of Jewish occultism in Eastern Europe.¹ Occultism in the modern context encompasses a broad array of beliefs and practices concerned with hidden dimensions of reality oftentimes articulated in the language of contemporary science.² From the late nineteenth century, modern occult currents engaged many Jews in Eastern Europe, who consulted with mediums, attended occult performances and lectures, and consumed occult literature, whether in Hebrew, Yiddish, Polish, or Russian. For these Jews, the hidden realities represented by occultism conveyed practical knowledge, entertainment, assurance, and the possibility of belief in a higher reality. Their occult activities left a paper trail in the form of advertisements placed in Jewish newspapers across Eastern Europe. This article considers occult-related advertisements published in the Jewish press in early-twentieth-century Poland, arguably the centre of Jewish occultism in Eastern Europe. By tracing occult advertisements across four decades of the Hebrew, Yiddish, and Polish press in Poland, a picture emerges of the dynamic occult marketplace that reached Jews across Eastern Europe, the economics of this marketplace, and the social changes that spurred its development. Jewish press advertisements thus not only shed light on the physiognomy of Jewish occultism in Poland in the early-twentieth century, but also tell us a great deal about Jewish experiences of modernity in these years as a whole.

A loose amalgam of occult currents developed in Western Europe and North America beginning in the mid-nineteenth century that achieved global popularity by the century’s end.³ Diverse in their modes and objectives, many of these currents evolved out of earlier esoteric traditions. Turn-of-the-century occultism was manifest in popular movements such as spiritualism and the Theosophical Society, techniques like hypnosis that were believed to open a window into the soul, modes of spiritual healing such as Christian Science and “Mind Cure,” a revived interest in astrology and divination, the scientific investigation of occult phenomena – known as psychical research or parapsychology – and consultations with professed psychics who marketed themselves under a variety of professional titles. Occultism found favor among both social and intellectual elites as well as the lower classes. At the centre of many occult currents stood the figure of the medium, an individual (oftentimes a woman) who, it was widely believed, “possessed the ability to communicate with the spirits or to access unconscious and unexplored mental states.”⁴ A salient feature of these currents, evident in the advertisements from the Jewish press in Poland considered here, was their attempt to engage hidden dimensions of reality from within the discursive boundaries of modern science. While occultism is today commonly perceived as lying beyond the pale of mainstream science, this was far from the case in the late-nineteenth and early-twentieth centuries. Many of those involved in the formation of modern scientific disciplines, including physics and psychology, took up occultism with considerable fervor; frequently, they did not distinguish between the two pursuits.⁵ The support of these scientists-cum-occultists was often cited by proponents of occultism who sought to capitalize on the epistemic authority of modern science. Indeed, for many occultists, scientific language was a means by which to test the limits of rationalism and reconstitute contested metaphysical beliefs in an age of scientific naturalism.⁶

While many of these currents first emerged in Europe and North America, modern communication networks and the forces of Western imperialism transmitted them across the globe, where they took part in ongoing processes of cultural transfer.⁷ Occultism was well represented in turn-of-the-century Poland, then under Russian rule, and flourished in the Second Polish Republic.⁸ Jewish occultism in Poland developed alongside Polish occultism, and while it never approached the organizational or publishing accomplishments of the latter, the two occult spheres must nevertheless be considered in tandem. Polish and Jewish occultists regularly advertised in each other’s respective presses, and Jews read Polish occult literature.⁹ Kabbalah, the traditional Jewish esoteric lore, was highly esteemed in many occult circles, particularly among followers of the Theosophical Society, and several well-known early-twentieth-century Polish occultists sought out Jewish instructors to teach them Kabbalah.¹⁰

The earliest signs of Jewish engagement with occultism in Eastern Europe can be traced back to the Haskalah literature of the early-nineteenth century.¹¹ Already by the 1860s, Jews in Eastern Europe held spiritualist séances, and hypnosis was popularized a short time later in the mid-1880s, in large part due to the feats of the Jewish hypnotist Osip Feldman.¹² Yet it was only with the advent of widespread press advertisements, first in the Hebrew daily press in the late 1890s, that the conditions were met for the formation of a Jewish occult marketplace. This process was further precipitated with the establishment of a Yiddish daily press from 1903 whose circulation quickly outstripped its Hebrew competitors.¹³ Yiddish newspapers such as Der fraynd, Haynt, and Der moment published full pages of advertisements that facilitated the rise of a Jewish consumer culture in Eastern Europe.¹⁴ To these we must add the advertisement-filled Polish-language Jewish daily press that flourished in the interwar period.¹⁵ Many advertisements in general-interest Jewish newspapers pertained to the occult. The Jewish press served as a space for occult professionals, both Jewish and non-Jewish, to attract Jewish customers and market themselves to a broader public. Theatre promoters announced shows in the press featuring occult performances, various organizations invited the public to attend lectures on occult topics, and authors and booksellers advertised occult literature.¹⁶

Occult-related advertisements in the Jewish press in Poland are informative on several counts. First, the sheer number of advertisements found within general-interest newspapers denotes the great popularity of occultism among Jews in Eastern Europe in the early-twentieth century.¹⁷ Second, advertisements signify the transformation of the occult into a marketable commodity and preserve valuable economic information concerning marketing strategies, costs, and the whereabouts of occultists. Lastly, occult-related advertisements give insight into the presumed anxieties and needs of potential Jewish consumers, shedding light on the broader social changes afoot in Eastern Europe from the turn of the century.¹⁸ Amidst the gradual breakdown of traditional Jewish society and concordant processes of modernization, occultism appealed as a novel solution to the spiritual crisis of modernity.¹⁹ In what follows, I present a survey of occult-related advertisements from the Jewish press in early-twentieth-century Poland. I focus, in particular, on advertisements for occult professionals and healers, wonder shows and lectures, and occult literature. By closely reading occult-related advertisements from the Jewish press in Poland, we not only form an impression of Jewish occultism in early-twentieth-century Poland, but uncover the larger social environment in which it developed.

Advertisements for occult professionals

The first Jewish press advertisements for occult professionals appeared in the Hebrew daily press at the end of the nineteenth century and continued to be published with regularity in the Yiddish and Polish-Jewish daily press until the outbreak of WWII in 1939. One early advertisement, for the graphologist and physiognomist Madam Sztumachina, appeared simultaneously in parallel Yiddish and Polish versions in the Hebrew ha-Tsefirah and the Polish Kurjer Warszawski newspapers [Figures 1 and 2].²⁰ This advertisement, which appeared on a nearly daily basis between March and July 1900, contains many elements characteristic of early-twentieth-century advertisements for occult professionals in the Jewish press in Poland as a whole. Like subsequent advertisements, it appears on the last page of the newspaper – entirely devoted to advertisements – alongside other notices in Yiddish, Hebrew, and Russian for a diverse range of products and services.²¹ The advertisement announces that Madam Sztumachina will be in Warsaw for only one more week, creating a sense of urgency (“Seize the opportunity!” the text at the top reads), and that graphology séances (cost: 1 ruble) can be arranged from 10 o’clock in the morning to 9 o’clock in the evening at 38 Nowy-Swiat, no. 4. Critically, the advertisement presents graphology as quintessentially modern. To be sure, the Yiddish version of the advertisement is accompanied by an image of a woman holding a banner that reads “khokhmes-hapartsef,” a Hebrew loanword and traditional term for physiognomy.²² Yet the advertisement concludes with a reminder to the public that the Madam’s séances have no relation to tarot card reading or palmistry, both traditional mantic arts. The text of the advertisement thus differentiates her modern occult specialty, graphology, from traditional divinatory practices. Madam Sztumachina’s advertisement presumes the existence of a customer interested in gaining access to privileged knowledge, but, perhaps as a reader of the more high-brow ha-Tsefirah, with its focus on scientific popularization, hesitant to engage in traditional modes of fortune-telling considered unscientific. The scientific patina of modern occult practices such as graphology thus allowed for the possibility of continued belief in hidden knowledge without impinging upon the practitioner’s sense of rationality.²³

Figure 1. Yiddish advertisement for the graphologist and physiognomist Madam Sztumachina. ha-Tsefirah, 10 May 1900, 402. Courtesy of the National Library of Israel.

Figure 2. Polish advertisement for the graphologist and physiognomist Madam Sztumachina. Kurjer Warszawski, 10 May 1900, 4.

Madam Sztumachina’s advertisement, with its presentation of price, location, time, occult specialization, and an image – elements shared with occult advertisements in the Polish press – introduces a formula that would reappear in advertisements in the Jewish press for occult professionals up until the outbreak of WWII. The language of these advertisements, too, was highly formulaic; similar expressions, turns of phrase, and claims appear in many notices. Psychic mediums, for instance, invariably claimed in their advertisements to provide clients with knowledge of their past, present, and future, while bestowing upon themselves a surfeit of professional titles. This last point is satirized to great effect by the novelist Isaac Bashevis Singer in his early short story “Ali-Ibrahim Redhead,” a tale of an itinerant Jewish occult professional from Galicia who sets up business out of a rented room in the Jewish quarter of Warsaw. Ali-Ibrahim Redhead’s fictional advertisement, which bear a striking resemblance to genuine notices placed by Jewish occultists in the Polish Jewish press, declares that “here resides the world-famous theosophist, chiromancer, physiognomist, graphologist, hypnotist, psycho-magnetizer Prof. Ali-Ibrahim Redhead, starting from 6 in the morning to 12 at night, shows the dead in a black mirror, all for dirt cheap prices.”²⁴

Advertisements for occult professionals often specified the particular services they provided. These varied from the practical to the existential, and can tell us a great deal about the needs and concerns believed to be held by prospective clients. Urban environments were unfamiliar – indeed, at times treacherous – for the tens of thousands of Jews who migrated to large cities such as Warsaw at the turn of the century. Far from family and unacquainted with the mores of city life, Jewish in-migrants were in particular need of guidance; a market opened up for occult professionals eager to assist newcomers struggling with the challenges of urban living (in exchange, of course, for payment).²⁵ On the practical side, the Jewish psychic Mister Dżek (alias of Yankev Kashenmakher), whose decades-long career can be reconstructed through press advertisements in the Polish and Yiddish press, specialized in tracking down stolen goods. He frequently printed testimonials from satisfied customers in the daily press that thanked the professed chiromancer, physiognomist, and thought-reader (his specializations varied with each advertisement) for recovering their property.²⁶ Mister Dżek’s wife and business partner, the professed clairvoyant, telepathist, and mind-reader Madam Pitya-Athena (alias of Tsivye-Dina Kashenmakher), claimed in one advertisement “to give the best advice.”²⁷ Indeed, in a social environment that offered an unprecedented degree of choice in matters ranging from one’s profession and style of dress to religious practice and choice of marriage partner, advice was at a premium.²⁸ The graphologist, telepathist, and chiromancer Reb Ber Hirsh Rosenblum, about whom we will have more to say below, provided guidance on business relationships, lawsuits, love, and illness, per a 1928 advertisement.²⁹ The “famous chiromancer, psycho-astro-graphologist, and kabbalist” M. Wolk-Lanievsky placed an advertisement in the Grodner moment in 1932 declaring that he read palms and tarot cards and analysed photographs and handwriting samples in order to advise clients on their business affairs and marital prospects.³⁰

The anxieties of urban life extended beyond material concerns. The dislocation wrought by urbanization, as well as the “intensification of nervous stimulation” characteristic of metropolitan life, bred a deep sense of alienation that comes across in many advertisements for occult professionals.³¹ As early as 1899, the Russian psycho-graphologist Ilya Federovich Morgenstern placed a Yiddish-language advertisement in ha-Tsefirah enjoining customers to find self-knowledge at his séances [Figure 3]. The advertisement, crammed with 27 lines of text, presents Morgenstern’s graphological method (“firmly founded on science”), as well as his address and visiting hours during his visit to Warsaw.³² The phreno-graphologist Chaim Szyller-Szkolnik (1874–1937) appealed in a 1909 advertisement to clients seeking to perceive their “spiritual ‘I’” [gaystigen ‘ikh’].³³ Arguably Warsaw’s most visible Jewish occultist, Szyller-Szkolnik relentlessly peddled his products and services over the length of his thirty-year career. His image-filled advertisements in the Polish and Jewish press were nearly ubiquitous in early-twentieth-century Poland, appearing in thousands of newspaper issues. Beyond his séances, Szyller-Szkolnik marketed various means of self-development in his advertisements, from mail-in graphology and astrology services to a hair-loss remedy of his own concoction (his visage frequently appeared in his advertisements with a notably full head of hair).³⁴ Anxiety over what lies ahead clouds an advertisement for the telepathist and chiromancer Stenia Broder, who promised “that every customer can know their future.” Her 1935 advertisement shows Broder sitting blindfolded facing an assistant, evidently exercising her telepathic powers [Figure 4].³⁵ Beyond these specific examples, nearly every occult professional promised clients knowledge of their past, present, and future. While this may have been a means of demonstrating their psychic powers, it also offered customers a coherent narrative of their own lives, functioning as an early form of therapy.³⁶

Figure 3. Advertisement for the psycho-graphologist Ilya Federovich Morgenstern. ha-Tsefirah, 30 March 1899, 304. Courtesy of the National Library of Israel.

Figure 4. Advertisement for the telepathist Stenya Broder. Bialer vokhenblat, 26 July 1935, 1. Courtesy of the National Library of Israel.

Other occult professionals advertised healing. Notable in this regard was Dr. Oskar Wojnowski (1888–1951), a Polish naturopathic healer whose herbal and homeopathic remedies enjoyed great popularity among Jewish consumers in interwar Poland. In addition to articles on Wojnowski’s herbal miracle cures (and legal troubles), Yiddish newspapers in Poland frequently ran advertisements for his services.³⁷ One advertisement, printed in the Częstochowa Tsayt in 1928, presents a list of “herbs and healing-grasses” and their functions, per his method [Figure 5].³⁸

Figure 5. Advertisement for Dr. Oskar Wojnowski’s herbal remedies. Tsayt (Częstochowa), 21 November 1928, 4.

The language that occultists used to advertise themselves can point to the clientele they sought to corner. Wojnowski, as a Pole, for instance, made a conscious effort to reach Jewish customers by advertising in Yiddish. Reb Ber Hirsh Rosenblum, mentioned above, is particularly informative on this point. Feted in the press as a “hasidic chiromancer” and “telepathist rabbi,” Rosenblum assumed the persona of a hasidic wonder-worker from Lwów well-adapted to the occult trends of interwar Poland.³⁹ Yet his advertisements appeared nearly exclusively in the Polish-language press, both Polish and Jewish, signaling that the target audience for a “hasidic chiromancer” was not, in fact, hasidic Jews, but rather Christian Poles, as well as the more acculturated Polish Jews who read newspapers such as Nasz Przegląd, Chwila, and Nowy Dziennik.⁴⁰ This is born out by the text of a first person testimonial that appears in an advertisement Rosenblum printed in Chwila in 1927:

What I saw exceeded all I imagined about such individuals. In front of me sat a tall old man with a patriarchal gray beard and uncanny, penetrating eyes. Having looked at me for a long time, without any introduction, he greeted me, mentioning my name and my parents’ name at the same time. And then? … Then he told me so much about my past that unwillingly, under the influence of his riveting words, I was compelled to believe in the future he foretold for me, even though as a modern man, I am a stone-cold sceptic. After our talk I asked him if he would not like to tell me a little about his business … He did not reply, but silently pulled out a thick notebook, where among thanks and a series of written acknowledgments, I noticed the signatures of such high-ranking people from clerical, military and industrial circles that I did not ask any more.⁴¹

Based in Lwów, Rosenblum eked out a peripatetic living, crisscrossing southern Poland on several instances in the 1920s and 1930s. Rosenblum’s peregrinations left a record in the form of advertisements that he placed in newspapers in each city that he visited, giving insight into the routes taken by this itinerant Jewish occultist in interwar Poland.⁴² The paper trail goes cold in late July 1938, and Rosenblum’s fate afterwards remains unknown. As we have seen, press advertisements preserve much of the rich diversity of the Jewish occult marketplace in early-twentieth-century Poland, while opening a window into the lives of the people whose needs it sought to meet.

Advertisements for occult performances and lectures

The Jewish occult marketplace in early-twentieth-century Poland was not limited to the occult professionals who peddled their services in the Polish-Jewish and Yiddish press. A vibrant Jewish public culture developed initially in late imperial Russia that popularized public lectures and stage performances, some of which contained occult elements.⁴³ Press advertisements are often the only extant source attesting to these activities and allow us to reconstruct a fragmentary picture of the occult cultural offerings available to early-twentieth-century Polish Jews.

Occult performers were often the same professed psychic mediums who advertised private consultations in the press. Szyller-Szkolnik, for instance, held séances on stage with a coterie of mediums, most notably Mlle. Evigny-Rara, who was herself also Jewish.⁴⁴ Szyller-Szkolnik, like other occult performers, appeared at times as part of a larger routine, whether in the framework of a variety show or as an opening act before a theatrical performance.⁴⁵ He also put on independent shows, such as “the great spiritualist séance” held at the Warsaw Hygienic Society that he advertised in Haynt in 1921.⁴⁶ Variety shows were extremely popular among Warsaw Jews, and from press advertisements we see that these, too, often included on-stage séances.⁴⁷ A 1925 advertisement for the strongman Gershon Breitbard, for instance, announces that his performances will be accompanied by “interesting séances from the world-famous magician and hypnotist Mister Pameti, with his medium Miss Penny, who convoke marvelous spiritualist séances.”⁴⁸ A 1934 variety show advertised in the Grodno Unzer vort included “acrobatics, dance, music, comedy, song, and telepathy,” all for 45 groszy.⁴⁹

Occult performers aimed to inspire feelings of wonderment in their audiences.⁵⁰ This was particularly evident in the case of so-called fakirs, oriental stage magicians who claimed to originate anywhere from Egypt to Tibet but were more often than not white European performers in costume. A fakir craze swept across Europe in the 1920s, popularized to a large extent by the fakir Tahra-Bey of Paris, whose careful blending of scientific language with fantastical feats, in particular an insensitivity to pain – brought together in a mysterious oriental guise – defined the persona of the fakir in interwar Europe.⁵¹ In Poland, stage fakirs were predominantly Jews performing under assumed oriental identities, and advertisements for local fakir performances – generally featuring telepathy, hypnotism, spiritualist séances, and other occult marvels of distinctly Western origin – fill the interwar Jewish press.⁵² The Jewish fakir Ben-Ali, for instance, advertised an evening performance in the town of Wlodzimierz (Ludmir) that was to include “among the experiments in the field of clairvoyance and fakirism, a rare experiment featuring the appearance of living and deceased people” whose spirits were to be invoked precisely at midnight.⁵³ Wlodzimierz, incidentally, was not Ben-Ali’s only port of call. Press advertisements for his performances trace his tours across northeastern Poland in the 1920s and 1930s, until his career came to an abrupt end in early 1934 with his arrest for sex-trafficking.⁵⁴

Occult performers maintained a complex relation between concealment and revelation, a tension that seeped into press advertisements for their performances. Szyller-Szkolnik, who generally gave the impression that he wished to democratize his professed psychic abilities, placed a remarkable advertisement in Der moment in November 1931 for a joint performance with the telepathist Wolf Messing (1899–1974) (who later achieved significant fame in the Soviet Union) titled “Between Light and Shadow” [Figure 6]. Under a banner that read “No sorcery! No miracles!” the two unveiled a program that presumed to endow all of Warsaw with occult powers:

All of Warsaw will come see how men can also be supermen [ibermenshen]; All of Warsaw will come to marvel at how people can guess each other’s thoughts; All of Warsaw will come to ask what needs to happen and for whom good fortune awaits […] All of Warsaw must be convinced of the revealed supernatural power within people. “Between Light and Shadow” will reveal to people the secret of “sorcery” and bring them to an unknown world.⁵⁵

This promise to uncover latent powers was often used to lure audiences to lectures on occult topics. Certain lectures, particularly on hypnosis, retained a performative aspect (frequently at the expense of unsuspecting audience members), while others assumed a more serious air.⁵⁶ Two 1931 lectures by the exiled Russian philosopher Boris Petrovich Vysheslavtsev in Kaunas, Lithuania, for instance, were advertised in the city’s Yiddish press. Vysheslavtsev’s first lecture was on “Superconsciousness and its secret: hypnosis, psychoanalysis, mediumism,” followed by a second talk the next day on “Mysticism and occultism: Christian and Indian mysticism, Theosophy, Anthroposophy, and Christian Science,” each beginning, the advertisement stressed, promptly at 8 PM.⁵⁷ In Warsaw, the Association of Jewish Writers and Journalists, the unofficial arbiter of highbrow Yiddish culture in Poland, held occasional lectures on occult topics at its famed Tłomackie 13 location.⁵⁸ In 1931, the association advertised a public lecture on Mazdaznan, a neo-Zorastrian movement that preached a vegetarian diet and regular breathing exercises.⁵⁹ The writer’s club also hosted a two-part occult lecture by the Yiddish writer and spiritualist Shloyme Gilbert (1885–1942) that was advertised in Der moment in 1926. Per the advertisement, the lecture, on the topic of “Do we live on after death?” addressed the following issues:

Figure 6. Advertisement for Szyller-Szkolnik and Wolf Messing performance proclaiming “No sorcery! No miracles!” Der moment, 29 November 1931, 1. Courtesy of the National Library of Israel.

Prophetic sleep and hypnotic sleep. What is hypnosis? How does one hypnotize? Clairvoyance and clairaudience – rungs of prophecy. The means by which one attains the levels of clairvoyance and clairaudience. Astral ascent, or the aliyes neshome. Do we live on after death and is the soul immortal? Spirit materializations at spiritualist séances. What do Kant, Schopenhauer, Lombroso, Strindberg, Przybyszewski, Flamarion, Dumas, and others have to say about this? The attitudes of non-Jews and Jews towards practical Kabbalah. Wondrous phenomenon and one’s own experiences.⁶⁰

Gilbert’s lecture, the advertisement informs us, was introduced by Aaron Zeitlin (1898–1973), who four decades later published ha-Metsi’ut ha-Aheret, a monumental two-volume Hebrew work on parapsychology.⁶¹

In certain cases, press advertisements for lectures are the sole testimony to the existence of entire occult organizations. In April 1927, an advertisement was placed in Nasz Przegląd by the Jewish Theosophical Centre of Warsaw for a lecture on “Theosophy and the problem of Jewish life.”⁶² Were it not for this advertisement, this important, if unknown, chapter in the history of Jewish occultism in Poland would remain forgotten.⁶³ Press advertisements likewise preserve the inroads made by the Polish Theosophical Society in the interwar period to recruit Jewish followers, as testified to by the many advertisements for theosophical lectures placed in Polish-Jewish newspapers.⁶⁴

Press advertisements for occult performances and lectures speak to the cultural interests of early-twentieth-century Jewish audiences in Eastern Europe. Occult performers and stage fakirs aimed to amaze; at pains to market their exploits as “experiments,” many ventured to (at least appear to) do the impossible while paying lip service to the scientific method. The 1931 advertisement for the Szyller-Szkolnik and Messing performance, conversely, stresses the attainability of psychic powers. Advertisements for occult lectures similarly promised knowledge to audiences eager to develop inner powers, explore the superconscious, or receive empirical proof of the immortality of the soul. This marketing of once-privileged knowledge, now made available to all paying attendees, extended to the written word, as well.

Advertisements for occult literature

A number of occult publications were marketed to readers of the Jewish press in Poland.⁶⁵ On the whole, these works were presented as providing readers with the tools to develop psychic powers and/or find success and happiness in life. Others aimed simply to inform, opening a window, advertisements claimed, into hidden dimensions of reality. This was the case with ha-Hargeshah me-Rahok: Telepatiyah [Feeling from a Distance: Telepathy], the first Hebrew work on telepathy.⁶⁶ Published in Warsaw in 1904 by the prolific scientific popularizer Elazar David Finkel (1862–1918), this slim book, really a booklet, consisted of selected translations from the early classic work of psychical research, Phantasms of the Living, which first appeared in London in 1886.⁶⁷ Finkel placed a large forty-line Hebrew-language advertisement in ha-Tsefirah with the book’s release [Figure 7].⁶⁸ Introducing the volume’s history and its contents, Finkel’s advertisement interweaves kabbalistic allusions with claims of scientific authority. The book, he writes, “bring readers to new sefirot, to a hidden world, the place where spirits and souls will rejoice” yet is also “upheld by the authority of the greatest professors, scholars, poets, and learned physicians.” Most importantly, the highly descriptive text concludes, “the book will be more enjoyable and satisfying than reading some novel.” Ha-Hargashah me-Rahok, then, was marketed at readers with a healthy appreciation for matters both scientific and spiritual; telepathy is presented here as a scientific confirmation of the very spiritual dimensions of existence that had been written off by advocates of nineteenth-century scientific materialism.⁶⁹ The advertisement also gives insight into Finkel’s plans for publication: while the book numbered only 64 pages, the end of the advertisement informs readers that ten booklets, in total, were due to appear. As it is, only the first booklet was ever published, rendering this advertisement the sole attestation of Finkel’s vision to publish a more complete Hebrew translation of Phantasms of the Living.⁷⁰ The reappearance of press advertisements for the book five years later, in late 1909, indicates that his initial marketing campaign was far from a success; this time around, the book was promoted as relating firstly to spiritualism and postmortem communication.⁷¹

Figure 7. Advertisement for Elazar David Finkel, ha-Hargashah me-Rahok: Telepatiyah [Feeling from a Distance: Telepathy]. ha-Tsefirah, 23 December 1904, 4. Courtesy of the National Library of Israel.

ha-Hargashah me-Rahok was far from the only work of occult literature marketed to Jewish readers in early-twentieth-century Poland. Between 1910 and 1913, advertisements appeared in Jewish newspapers in Vilna and Warsaw for Gayst un energye [Spirit and Energy], a Yiddish primer on psycho-spiritual development penned by Shimon David Blaustein of Shargorod.⁷² Derived, per the book’s introduction, from the “foremost psychological and occult theories,” chiefly those associated with the New Thought, or “Mind-Cure,” movement, Blaustein’s work was marketed at readers who suffered from poor self-esteem.⁷³ Gayst un energye, the advertisements promised, would equip them with the tools for achieving both moral and material wealth.⁷⁴ Similar promises appear in a Yiddish advertisement for several Russian-language works on hypnosis and occultism placed in the Lodzer folksblat newspaper in 1913.⁷⁵ One book, a Russian translation of Joseph Grasset’s L’hypnotisme et la suggestion, claimed to provide instruction in healing. Another work, simply titled Okkul’tizm, was “a guidebook to developing occult powers” obtainable for only one ruble. That these works were advertised alongside a cookbook, a compendium of home remedies, and a book on beauty treatments indicates that they were marketed, at least in part, to women readers.

In addition to his activities described above, Szyller-Szkolnik published dozens of occult handbooks in Yiddish, Polish, and Russian which he advertised in the Jewish press in Poland. These advertisements demonstrate many of the concerns that characterized his occult enterprise as a whole – self-knowledge, personal development, and the acquisition of power, happiness, and success in life. All of these, Szyller-Szkolnik preached, could be obtained by anyone. An early advertisement for his 1909 Yiddish work Dos rikhtigste mitel tsu derkenen zikh un dem tsveyten [The Truest Means to Perceive Oneself and Others], an introduction to chiromancy, physiognomy, and phrenology, stresses the book’s accessibility.⁷⁶ “The [book’s] contents,” readers are informed, “can be understood by anyone [and] its price is low.” “Therefore,” the advertisement concludes, “this work has quickly become popular.”⁷⁷ A later book, Hipnotizm, sugestye, telepatye: a hantbukh tsu farshtarkn dem viln, feikeytn un andere gaystike eygnshaftn [Hypnotism, Suggestion, Telepathy: A Handbook for Strengthening the Will, Abilities, and other Mental Properties], was promoted in a lengthy advertisement published in Der moment for several years beginning in 1929 [Figure 8].⁷⁸ “Do you wish,” the advertisement asks readers.

to possess a great mysterious power? Do you wish that other people will be subjected to your will? Do you wish to obtain untold powers of will, character, and thought? Do you wish to be freed from bad habits? Do you wish to strengthen your mental capabilities? Do you wish to master an independent heart? Do you wish to successfully combat all of the obstacles that fate has placed in the path of your life?⁷⁹

Readers who responded in the affirmative to any of these questions were directed to read Szyller-Szkolnik’s book. The possibility of acquiring hidden powers through purchasing a book is likewise implied in a 1937 advertisement in the Yiddish film magazine Di panorame for guidebooks to chiromancy and graphology, marketed alongside introductions to photography, radio operation, and magic tricks. “The greatest mysteries will only be revealed,” consumers are admonished “after you obtain these five highly-important books.”⁸⁰

Figure 8. Advertisement for Szyller-Szkolnik, Hipnotizm, sugestye, telepatye [Hypnotism, Suggestion, Telepathy]. Der moment, 9 August 1929, 12. Courtesy of the National Library of Israel.

Press advertisements for occult literature bespeak the steady commoditization of early-twentieth-century Jewish society in Eastern Europe. Occult publications promised readers self-confidence, psychic powers, strength of will, success in business and marriage, and even the revelation of life’s greatest mysteries, all for an affordable price. This remarkable democratization of knowledge had the effect of rendering the occult, somewhat paradoxically, distinctly exoteric.⁸¹ Moreover, this was a course of self-development that did not necessitate contact with a teacher, but could be carried out, unmediated, in any location. This gospel was spread wherever newspapers were sold.

Conclusion

In November 1928, a feuilleton appeared in Der moment titled “Abklangen: der yud fun der anonsen-zayt” (Echoes: The Jew from the advertisements page). The witty text presents Tsadok-Getsel, an inveterate reader of press advertisements. A keen observer of cultural trends, Tsadok-Getsel pours over the latest fashions represented in the advertisements page. “As for higher matters,” he quips, “do you think that nothing can be learned from the advertisements? Take, for instance, such a noble thing as the secret wisdom of life. You might think – what is this sort of thing doing in the classifieds section? You’d be mistaken.” The advertisements page, Tsadok-Getsel informs us, is filled with signs of a deep spiritual crisis:

Strange images appear in my advertisements. Black-bearded folk with a deep hidden wisdom in their wide-open eyes. Fakirs? Brahmins? Do you wish to arrive at the true meaning of life? Do you wish to dive into the mysteries of being and non-being? Do you wish to know under which star you were born and what awaits you in the future? Write to “Astral.” “P.O. Box 39.” From there you will receive a book that will open your eyes.⁸²

The feuilleton vividly captures the tenor of the occult-related newspaper advertisements that filled the Jewish press in early-twentieth-century Poland. This was a period of unprecedented change, manifest, in part, in the new Jewish mass media that peddled a bewildering array of products and services. Readers of Jewish newspapers were inundated with offers of hidden powers and an entry into the mysteries of life, foreknowledge of their futures and the fate of their families, these marketed alongside anything from letter-writing guides to cures for erectile dysfunction.

The occult marketplace that developed in the pages of the Jewish press, with its promises of advice, self-development, and access to hidden powers and wisdom, reflects many of the anxieties of modern life. As Jews migrated in increasing numbers to large cities, they confronted growing alienation, wrestled with fateful decisions, and struggled to navigate oftentimes treacherous urban environments. Yet if modern life posed fresh problems, it also offered novel means of solving them, solutions that could be found on the advertisements page. Occult professionals, in their press advertisements, promised to assist readers with practical matters such as career guidance and tracking down stolen goods. Crucially, they also dispensed advice on a range of psychological issues ranging from low self-esteem and troubles in love to self-alienation and existential uncertainty.

Occult press advertisements, moreover, pushed entertainment and edification. Readers of the Jewish press were invited to occult performances featuring unseen marvels that stretched the limits of the imagination. More staid enjoyment could be had at lectures that opened windows into hidden realities. Here, the scientific tenor of much of modern occultism was convivial for those who sought to maintain belief in a higher reality without compromising their adherence to modern science. Those interested in self-development were encouraged to order books with courses of instruction in the occult arts of telepathy, hypnosis, and graphology, all of which were said to give those who mastered them a leg up in life. This promulgation of ostensibly hidden knowledge in mass-circulation newspapers points to the ready availability of modern occult knowledge, in Hebrew, Yiddish, Polish, and Russian, for Jews who sought it.

Jewish occultism in Eastern Europe appeared at a time of great spiritual and cultural flux. As the traditional Jewish social order gave way, ushering in new possibilities of self-formation, occultism appealed as a source of certainty. The paths towards personal development it put forward offered adepts inner knowledge and access to hidden powers. For others, occultism was simply a diversion, a form of popular entertainment that both amused and amazed. These aspects are vividly captured by advertisements found in Jewish newspapers from early-twentieth-century Poland. With their call to readers to contemplate the possibility of a reality beyond what meets the eye, press advertisements were a primary medium of Jewish occultism in early-twentieth-century Poland.

Acknowledgements

I am grateful to Luis Fernando Bernardi Junqueira, Agnieszka Jagodzińska, and the two anonymous readers for their helpful comments and suggestions.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Additional information

Notes on contributors

Samuel Glauber

Samuel Glauber is a PhD Candidate in the Goldstein-Goren Department of Jewish Thought at Ben-Gurion University of the Negev. His dissertation explores Jewish engagement with modern occult currents in early-twentieth-century Eastern Europe. He is the co-editor of Hillel Zeitlin, In the Secret Place of the Soul: Three Essays (Jerusalem: Blima, 2020) [Hebrew]. [email protected]

Notes

1 Cf. Davies, “Newspapers and the Popular Belief in Witchcraft and Magic.” On the history of modern press advertising, see Pope, The Making of Modern Advertising. For studies of Yiddish press advertisements, see Heinze, Adapting to Abundance, 147–60; Stein, Making Jews Modern, 153–74. The history of modern Jewish occultism is surveyed in Glauber-Zimra and Huss, “Prolegomena to the Study of Jewish Occultism.”

2 Occultism was first popularized as an emic term in the mid-nineteenth century by the French esotericist Éliphas Lévi. Today it is employed by scholars as an etic term for esoteric currents developed and practiced from the mid-nineteenth century onwards. See Hanegraaff, “Occult/Occultism”; Pasi, “Occultism.”

3 The literature on late-nineteenth- and early-twentieth-century occultism is vast. Representative studies include Carlson, “No Religion Higher than Truth”; Godwin, The Theosophical Enlightenment; Owen, The Place of Enchantment; Treitel, A Science for the Soul; Albanese, A Republic of Mind and Spirit; Monroe, Laboratories of Faith; and Mannherz, Modern Occultism in Late Imperial Russia.

4 Wolffram, The Stepchildren of Science, 45.

5 Cf. Noakes, Physics and Psychics; Sommer, “Crossing the boundaries of mind and body.”

6 Asprem, The Problem of Disenchantment.

7 Green, “The Global Occult”; Viswanathan, “The Ordinary Business of Occultism”; Krämer and Strube, Theosophy Across Boundaries; and Bernardi Junqueira, “The Power Within.” For a counter-perspective, see Strube, “Towards the Study of Esotericism without the ‘Western.’”

8 See the studies collected in Świerzowska, Polish Esoteric Traditions 1890–1939. A wealth of information on early-twentieth-century Polish mediums, several of them Jewish, can be found in Rzeczycka and Trzcińska, Polskie Tradycje Ezoteryczne 1890-1939. One contemporary observer went so far as to claim that “Poland has produced more mediums per acre than any country in the world.” Price, Leaves from a Psychist’s Case Book, 339.

9 The National Library of Israel, for instance, holds a copy of Edward Abramowski’s Polish-language treatise on telepathy, Telepatja doświadczalna, jako zjawisko kryptomnezji (Warsaw: S. Orgelbranda, 1911), previously owned by Samuel Abraham Poznański (1864–1921), a leading Polish-Jewish scholar and preacher at the Great Synagogue of Warsaw.

10 Members of the theosophical circle of Kazimierz Stabrowski (1869–1929), an early proponent of occultism in Poland, briefly studied Kabbalah with the writer and neo-hasidic thinker Hillel Zeitlin in the years immediately prior to World War I. See Aaron Zeitlin, “Mayn foter,” 38. On Stabrowski, see Hess and Dulska, “Kazimierz Stabrowski’s Esoteric Dimensions.” In the 1920s, the eminent Polish writer Stanisław Przybyszewski (1868–1927) studied Kabbalah with Saul Blum, a journalist and school principal active in Sopot, where Przybyszewski resided. Blum recounted their study sessions, which were arranged by the rabbi of Sopot, R. Avraham Chen, in a series of articles he published in the Hebrew, Yiddish, and Polish-Jewish press. See Saul Blum, “Vi azoy Pshibishevsky hat gelernt bay mir hebreish un kabole.” Haynt, January 1, 1926, 6; Saul Blum, “Moje wspomnienia o Stanisławie Przybyszewskim,” Nowy Dziennik, April 7, 1936, 16; and Saul Blum, “Sofer Polani Osek ba-Kabbalah,” ha-Doar, June 10, 1938, 488–89, 492–93. On Przybyszewski’s occult activities, see Hess, “Sad Satan’s Children.”

11 Meir, “Haskalah, Kabbalah, and Mesmerism.”

12 Chajes, “Entzauberung and Jewish Modernity”; Ewen, “A Séance in the Shtetl.” On the popularity of hypnosis in late imperial Russia, see Mannherz, Modern Occultism in Late Imperial Russia, 65–77.

13 On the history of the Jewish press in early-twentieth-century Poland, see Druk, Tsu der geshikhte; Flinker, Di yidishe prese vos iz geven; Fuks, Prasa żydowska w Warszawie; Shmeruk, “A Pioneering Study of the Warsaw Jewish Press”; and Nalewajko-Kulikov (ed.), Studia z dziejów trójjęzycznej prasy żydowskiej.

14 For this claim in the context of Der fraynd, see Stein, Making Jews Modern, 153–67. For comparable processes among Yiddish-speaking Jews in the United States, see Heinze, Adapting to Abundance. Advertisement pages typically appeared on the front and back pages of the newspaper.

15 Steinlauf, “The Polish Jewish Daily Press.” While they were marketed at different readerships, advertisements in the Yiddish and Polish-Jewish press nevertheless employed similar language and imagery.

16 For parallel processes in the context of early-twentieth-century Chinese occultism, see Bernardi Junqueira, “The Power Within.”

17 It should be noted that internal Jewish opposition to occultism can be found in a variety of sources, ranging from rabbinic responsa to Zionist literature. With that, supporters, too, can be found among every social or religious group to which opponents of Jewish occultism belonged.

18 With that, Jewish newspapers in Poland only appeared until the 1930s in large cities. While urban newspapers offered coverage of provincial goings-on, the occult-related advertisements found in their pages were generally local, and thus only provide us with a partial view of Jewish occult activity in Eastern Europe as a whole. Fortune-tellers and other occult practitioners active in small-town Jewish communities, for instance, did not advertise their services in newspapers, yet are well-represented in memoir literature. For several examples, see Ben-Saar, Der jüdische Vatikan, 13–16; Bar-Zvi, Ayaratenu Ternovka, 39–40; Lebel, Mihaileni My Dear Shtetl, 9.

19 Cf. Rosenthal, “Occultism as a Response to Spiritual Crisis.”

20 ha-Tsefirah, May 10, 1900, 402; Kurjer Warszawski, May 10, 1900, 4.

21 While occult-related advertisements were never grouped together in the Yiddish press in Eastern Europe, the New York Teglikher herald (Daily Jewish Herald) published astrologer listings in its classifieds section for a brief time in 1899. See, for instance, Der teglikher herald, April 9, 1899, 3.

22 The Polish version of the advertisement reads “Fizjonomistka,” the Polish word for a woman physiognomist. For a traditional Jewish view on physiognomy, see Liebes, “Physiognomy in Kabbalah.”

23 Cf. Asprem, “Parapsychology.”

24 Y. Bashevis, “Ali-Ibrahim Dzshindzshi (a skitse),” Unzer ekspres, August 22, 1930, 8. I am grateful to David Stromberg for bringing this story to my attention.

25 On the experiences of Jewish migrants to Warsaw, see Ury, Barricades and Banners, 45–90. Many occult professionals were criticized in the press as swindlers taking advantage of greenhorns. See, for example, Eliash [Eliyahu Khaym Sheps], “Fun der yudisher gas in varsha,” Der moment, November 24, 1910, 3.

26 See, for example, Der moment, June 23, 1912, 4; Der moment, February 23, 1931, 6. Mister Dżek, like many of the occult professionals considered here, also advertised with cheaply-printed handbills. One such handbill, a bi-lingual advertisement in Polish and Yiddish, is preserved at the National Library of Poland. Magazyn Druków Ulotnych (DŻS XIXA 9f), Biblioteka Narodowa, The National Library of Poland.

27 Der moment, April 22, 1931, 6. The Kashenmakhers’ frequent spats and legal troubles were fodder for the Warsaw press. See, for example, “Der trefer ‘Mister Dzshek’ un zayn vayb di treferin ‘Pitya’: hoben bay an’otvotsker pensionat-eygentimer nisht getrofen,” Unzer ekspres, December 22, 1932, 9; “A meshumedes klogt-on dem rabinet un di gmina: az men hot zi mit teroristishe mitlen tsurik megayer geven,” Der moment, August 11, 1933, 5.

28 Cf. Stein, Making Jews Modern, 1–2.

29 Nowy Dziennik, September 10, 1928, 16.

30 Der grodner moment, February 28, 1932, 1. “Kabbalist” here means fortune-teller, following the Polish meaning of the word. i.e., “kabała.” I am grateful to Marek Tuszewicki for clarifying this point for me.

31 Simmel, “The Metropolis and Mental Life,” 410.

32 ha-Tsefirah, March 30, 1899, 304.

33 Haynt, May 12, 1909, 4.

34 Der moment, January 28, 1929, 5; Kurjer Polski, November 28, 1909, 5.

35 Bialer vokhenblat, July 26, 1935, 1.

36 Cf. Shmuel-Abba Sofer, “Grafologye un grafologn: fun 1000 ley un hekher … ,” Tshernovitser bleter, November 23, 1929, 1; Brottman, “Psychoanalysis and Magic,”

37 One article claimed that Wojnowski, here labeled the “Vunder-Doctor of Warsaw,” learned the art of magnetic healing during a six-year retreat in Tibet. “Der vunder-doktor fun varsha,” Under ekspres, May 14, 1931, 6.

38 Tsayt (Częstochowa), November 21, 1928, 4.

39 For these appellations, see “Fenomenaly grafolog i telepata we Lwowie,” Chwila, September 10, 1927, 9; “Oryginaly wróżbita w Krakowie: Rozmowa z chasydzkim chiromantą p. Rosenblum,” Nowy Dziennik, August 20, 1928, 10. For critical descriptions of his method, see “Der gloybn in trefer iz shtendig geven fershprayt tsvishen menshen,” Velt-shpigl, April 3, 1930, 14–15; “Rebe, ir zayt a ligner, a shvindler,” Naye folkstsaytung, April 25, 1935, 5.

40 According to a Bundist reporter who paid a visit to Rosenblum in 1935, most of his clientele consisted of Christian domestic workers. D. Sher, “A galitsianer ‘rebe’ fun kristlekhe dinstmeydlekh,” Naye folkstsaytung, April 24, 1935, 5.

41 “Fenomenaly grafolog i telepata we Lwowie” (emphasis added). I am grateful to John Fenz for his assistance in translating this passage.

42 These include Lwów (Chwila, August 9, 1927, 9); Przemyśl (Tygodnik Przemyski, May 26, 1928, 3); Kraków (Nowy Dziennik, August 18, 1928, 9); Sosnowiec (Expres Zagłębia, January 11, 1929, 3); and Warsaw (Nasz Przegląd, May 6, 1930, 9).

43 Veidlinger, Jewish Public Culture.

44 See, for instance, Der moment, January 18, 1932, 5.

45 See, for instance, the advertisements in Nowy Dziennik, February 25, 1928, 4; and Der moment, January 18, 1932, 5.

46 Haynt, October 6, 1921, 4.

47 For a pioneering study of Warsaw Jewish popular entertainment, see Portnoy, “Freaks, Geeks, and Strongmen.”

48 Der moment, August 23, 1925, 8. Breitbart also performed with an “occultist-telepathist” named Filip Neufeld. Several handbills advertising these shows are preserved at the National Library of Poland. Magazyn Druków Ulotnych (DŻS XIXA 9f), Biblioteka Narodowa, The National Library of Poland.

49 Unzer vort (Grodno), November 29, 1934, 4.

50 Cf. Nadis, Wonder Shows.

51 Lachapelle, Conjuring Science, 81–88.

52 See, for instance, Pietrkover veker, June 29, 1928, 3; Unzer grodner ekspres, March 26, 1930, 8; and Folksblat, July 12, 1930, 2. A study of Jewish fakirs remains a desideratum. See, for now, Portnoy, “Freaks, Geeks, and Strongmen,” 127–28; Nagel, “De Europese fakir.”

53 Unzer leben (Wlodzimierz), October 30, 1931, 4.

54 Ben Ali’s stops included Białystok (Idisher kuryer, March 31, 1927, 4); Baranowicze (Baranovitsher lebn, November 23, 1928, 4); Grodno (Grodner moment, April 1, 1929, 6); and Pińsk (Pinsker vort, January 29, 1932, 1). For Ben-Ali’s arrest, see “Der ‘indisher’ fakir Ben-Ali arestirt als froyen-hendler,” Unzer ekspres, January 14, 1934, 9.

55 Der moment, November 29, 1931, 1 (emphases in original).

56 For an advertisement for a lecture on hypnosis that promised “experiments with the public,” see Unzer grodner ekspres, April 23, 1930, 1.

57 Folksblat, March 3, 1933, 8.

58 The history of the Association of Jewish Writers and Journalists is treated in Cohen, Sefer sofer ve-iton.

59 Unzer ekspres, May 29, 1929, 7. For a write-up of this lecture, see D. Z., “Vos is azoyns mazdaznan? A ‘religye’ fun atemen un ekhen,” Velt-shpigl, June 6, 1929, 12–13.

60 Der moment, February 2, 1926, 7. A brief Polish-language advertisement appears in Nasz Przegląd, February 1, 1926, 5. The lecture points appear nearly in full in Yiddish and Polish in a document submitted by Gilbert in late 1926 to the Union of Yiddish Writers and Journalists in Vilna. YIVO Institute of Jewish Research, RG 3, Folder 1976.

61 Zeitlin, ha-Metsi’ut ha-aheret; Zeitlin, Parapsikhologia Murhevet.

62 Nasz Przegląd, April 19, 1927, 7.

63 A Jewish theosophical society was organized in Łódź in the interwar period. See Hess, “Polska Myśl Teozoficzna,” 346.

64 See, for instance, Chwila, September 6, 1926, 9; Nowy Dziennik, February 10, 1928, 2; and Nasz Przegląd, February 17, 1931, 8.

65 A complete catalog of occult literature available to Jewish readers in this period remains a desideratum.

66 Finkel, ha-Hargashah me-Rahok. Part of this work first appeared as Elazar David Finkel, “Ha-Teva ve-ha-Hayyim: ha-Hargashah me-Rahok (Telepathie),” ha-Tsefirah, August 12, 1904, 458–60.

67 Gurney, Myers, and Podmore, Phantasms of the Living. Finkel subsequently serialized a partial Yiddish translation of Phantasms of the Living in Haynt in August and September 1908 under the title “Tsi lebt der mensh nokh’n toydt?”

68 ha-Tsefirah, December 23, 1904, 4. The same advertisement also appears in ha-Tsofeh, December 21, 1904, 4.

69 Cf. Turner, Between Science and Religion.

70 Another proposed occult publication that never came to fruition is known to us only from a Yiddish press advertisement. Under the header “A Journal for Kabbalah,” a “group of kabbalist-esotericists” expressed their intentions in 1936 to launch a journal “dedicated to the occult sciences: Kabbalah, metaphysics, and all old and new gnostic orientations.” The journal never appeared. Unzer ekspres, November 3, 1936, 2.

71 Haynt, December 27, 1909, 6.

72 Blaustein, Gayst un energye. A copy of this book held at the Jewish Historical Institute in Warsaw appears to be the only surviving copy available to researchers.

73 Ibid, 7.

74 ha-Zeman, December 12, 1910, 4. See, also, Haynt, January 28, 1913, 6.

75 Lodzer folksblat, May 21, 1913, 4.

76 Szyller-Szkolnik, Dos rikhtigste mitel.

77 Der moment, January 26, 1911, 4.

78 Szyller-Szkolnik, Hipnotizm, sugestye, telepatye. This work is a translation of Szyller-Szkolnik, Hypnotyzm, Sugestja, Telepatja.

79 Der moment, August 9, 1929, 12.

80 Di panorame, December 10, 1937, 4.

81 Cf. Treitel, A Science for the Soul, 56.

82 Dun K., “Abklangen: der yud fun der anonsen-zayt,” Der moment, November 28, 1929, 4 (emphasis in original).