of the 1920s contained a substantial number of loathsome Jewish smugglers, speculators, and seducers of Komsomol girls. One of them was V. Kirshon’s and A. Uspensky’s Solomon Rubin (in The Korenkov Affair ), who claimed to be “like a wart: you burn me with acid in one place, and I pop up in another.” Another was Sergei Malashkin’s Isaika Chuzhachok (“Little Isaiah the Outsider”), who was “small, feeble of body and countenance, and with only three prominent adornments on his spindle-like face: a big red nose; large, yellow fangs; and a pair of beady eyes the color of coffee dregs that, despite Little Isaiah’s extraordinary mercuriality, appeared blank and lifeless.” Ultimately, however, the Soviet “bourgeois” never became identified with the Jew. The class enemies of NEP-era demonology were primarily Russian peasants (“kulaks”), Russian shopkeepers ( lavochniki ), and Russian Orthodox priests, as well as the largely cosmopolitan pusillanimous “philistines” and foreign capitalists. (In the revised version of The Korenkov Affair , known as Konstantin Terekhin , the Jewish Nepman Solomon Rubin becomes the anti-Semitic Nepman Petr Lukich Panfilov.) Overall, the proportion of Jews among poster Nepmen seems to have been much lower than the proportion of Jews among real-life Soviet entrepreneurs, and many of the pointedly Jewish fictional capitalists had Bolshevik opposite numbers who were pointedly Jewish themselves. Matvei Roizman’s grotesquely devious Aron Solomonovich Fishbein is confronted by the poor blacksmith and workers’ faculty student Rabinovich, who moves into his house. More canonically, Boris Levin’s war profiteer Morits Gamburg, who “speculated in flour, cloth, shoes, sugar, gramophone needles—anything at all,” was renounced by his own son, the sensitive Sergei. Sergei Gamburg did not like his parents . . . . He was disgusted by the way his parents were trying to weasel their way into the aristocracy . . . . They had the same lampshade in their house as the Sineokovs. His father had his books, which he never read, rebound to match the new silk upholstery in his office. A grand piano appeared in the living room, even though no one ever played it. His sister Ida had no musical talent at all, but her music teacher came regularly . . . . They bought a Great Dane the size of a calf. His mother and father, and everyone else in the house, were afraid of that huge dog with its human eyes . . . . They had “Tuesdays” and invited a select company. Sergei knew perfectly well that people came to their place for the food . . . . When his mother said “cucklets,” Sergei would wince and correct her, without looking up: “cutlets.” Finally, Sergei resolves to leave home. “ ‘Speculators,’ he thinks of them with