The Dyke and the Dybbuk

Lore & Background

The novel's themes include a lesbian exploration of permeability, porosity, and identity within contemporary Judaism. The name intentionally refers to the famous play and film 'The Dybbuk' by S. Ansky, in order to appropriate the Jewish tradition. Howard Schwartz notes that in this contemporary version, the dybbuk emerges as a sympathetic character, unlike the original tale.

Reader's Guide

The Dyke and the Dybbuk holds significance as a work that reimagines Jewish folklore through a lesbian and feminist lens, challenging traditional narratives that reject lesbian identity. By appropriating the dybbuk—a figure of transgression—the novel harnesses its transformative potential for contemporary feminist writers. The book was warmly received by the LGBT community and the literary community, with Kirkus Reviews calling it 'A fun, feisty, feminist romp through Jewish folklore' and lauding its 'craft, camp, and chutzpah.' The Times termed it a 'highly entertaining farce.' The novel won the Lambda Literary Award in 1994 and the Gay, Lesbian, and Bisexual Book Award in 1995, cementing its place in queer and Jewish literary history. Its translation into Hebrew in 2000 further extended its reach into Israeli culture.

Did You Know?

• The novel's dybbuk, Kokos, is assigned her haunting job by a 'Head Office' that later becomes a multinational high-tech corporation.
• The protagonist Rainbow Rosenbloom works as a political, lesbian film-critic and taxi driver.
• The novel was translated into Hebrew by Dana G. Peleg in 2000.

The Two-Century Haunting

Ellen Galford's 1993 satirical novel weaves a two-century curse into a story about identity, revenge, and bureaucratic evil. The narrative opens in the past, when Anya, betrayed by her lover Gittel—who married a Torah scholar—unleashes a devastating spell: Gittel and every first-born female descendant across thirty-three generations will be haunted by a dybbuk and bear only daughters. The spirit assigned to the task, Kokos, works for the Head Office, an entity that by the story's present day has evolved into a multinational high-tech corporation. After the Sage of Limnititzk rescues Gittel and imprisons Kokos inside a tree, a bolt of lightning two centuries later frees the spirit into a London she barely recognizes. Facing dismissal, Kokos locates Rainbow Rosenbloom, a politically active lesbian film critic who also drives a taxi. The central comic dilemma: how does one drive a woman mad when her friends and family already consider her more than a little unhinged? Kokos decides to reshape Rainbow into the archetypal Nice Jewish Girl. The strategy backfires spectacularly when Rainbow begins falling for a straight, orthodox woman and contemplates marrying a man—precisely the outcome that would secure Kokos future generations to haunt.

Reclaiming the Dybbuk: Identity and Transformation

Galford deliberately titles her novel as a nod to S. Ansky's celebrated play and film The Dybbuk, appropriating a Jewish tradition that has historically rejected lesbian identity. As literary critic Mary Keller observes, the book functions as a lesbian exploration of permeability, porosity, and identity within contemporary Judaism. By choosing the dybbuk—a figure traditionally associated with possession and corruption—as the vehicle for her story, Galford harnesses the transgressive nature of the spirit to serve what Keller calls the 'promise of transformation' long sought by contemporary feminist writers. Scholar Howard Schwartz underscores this subversive move, noting that in Galford's contemporary retelling the dybbuk emerges as a sympathetic character, a stark departure from the original tale where the possessing spirit is purely malevolent. This reframing allows the novel to interrogate questions of sexual identity, religious belonging, and the boundaries of self, all filtered through the lens of satire and folklore.

Critical Acclaim and Community Embrace

The Dyke and the Dybbuk found enthusiastic audiences across both the LGBT community and the broader literary world. Kirkus Reviews praised the novel as a fun, feisty, feminist romp through Jewish folklore, singling out its craft, camp, and chutzpah as standout qualities. The Times labeled it a highly entertaining farce, while the Goodreads community simply called it hilarious. The Jewniverse culture review went so far as to declare it a not-to-be-missed feisty romp through gay and Jewish history, positioning the book as an essential read at the intersection of queer and Jewish cultural narratives. The novel's warmth of reception speaks to its ability to blend satire with genuine emotional resonance, making a story about a malicious spirit and a stubborn lesbian feel both deeply personal and universally funny. Critics consistently highlighted how Galford managed to honor Jewish folklore while simultaneously subverting its assumptions about gender, sexuality, and belonging, creating a work that felt both rooted in tradition and boldly forward-looking.

Publication, Translation, and Recognition

First released in the United Kingdom in 1993 through Little, Brown Book Group and Virago Press, The Dyke and the Dybbuk crossed the Atlantic the following year when Seal Press took it on for American readers. Seal Press would go on to issue a new edition in 1998, ensuring the novel remained in print and accessible to new generations. The book's reach extended well beyond the English-speaking world when Dana G. Peleg translated it into Hebrew in 2000, publishing it under the title Hadaikit ve Hadibuk through Shufra Publishing in Tel Aviv—a fitting home for a story that so thoroughly interrogates Jewish identity and tradition. On the awards front, the novel collected two significant honors in the LGBTQ literary world: the Lambda Literary Award in 1994 and the Gay, Lesbian, and Bisexual Book Award in 1995. These recognitions cemented Galford's place in queer literary canon and validated the novel's ambitious blend of folklore, satire, and feminist politics for a wider readership.