Fiction Recommend: Memory Wall

Memory Wall

Anthony Doerr

267 Pages

Scribner, 2011

One day about a year ago, I was riffling through books in the fiction paperback section at Barnes & Noble, a bit bored, none of the passages I read piquing my interest, when I opened a book titled The Shell Seekers. I turned to a page somewhere in the middle, picked a passage at random, and began to read. I don’t remember precisely what the particular paragraph was about (other than that it was nature-related), but I do remember my startling reaction to it: the unconscious holding of my breath, the delicious chill that rippled down my spine. I had a visceral response to the words I was reading, the kind you get when discovering an unbearably beautiful line of poetry or music that is so eloquent it hurts.

I bought the book of course. And that’s how I was introduced to the work of Anthony Doerr.

Not My Battle (In the Gothamist)

I am naïve sometimes. Each time I guilelessly believe something only to be jolted with the truth, I feel like a simple-minded child.  Here’s my latest experience:

This morning I read a short piece in the Gothamist about Rabbis plastering the Williamsburg streets with posters telling women to dress modestly. Although the piece was a mere three paragraphs short and featured a single quote by Baruch Herzfeld who said, “These men think they are doing God’s work, but they are fanatics — everyone in Williamsburg hates them,” it managed to garner 145 comments (at the time I’m writing this), with a fair share poking fun of Hasidim. Nothing unexpected (and some comments were actually hilarious). Nothing unexpected, either, that half the people who wrote seemed to have no clue about the Orthodox Jewish or Hasidic construct.

Anyhow, I perused the thread, promising myself that I would not join the discussion. “The battle is not yours to fight” and all that.

Protesting Naipul's Sexist Statements

Nobel laureate, Sir V. S. Naipul, made news last week when he unabashedly opined that no female author was equal to him, and that female writers, collectively, wrote badly. “Women writers are different,” he claimed, because of their “sentimentality, the narrow view of the world.”

I envisioned, the moment I read this, indignation—palpable and manic like a hemmed in frog—bouncing off countless women’s skins. I saw these women pounding their keyboards, writing irascible comments on blogs, web sites, twitter, facebook, or anywhere else they could spew their outrage against the revolting statements made by this “abominable” man.

Indeed, nearly every online newspaper that covered this story was inundated with furious, passionate comments, mostly from women. To these women, it didn’t matter that they themselves weren’t writers; they felt personally insulted, regardless. And added to the pain of the insult itself was the anger that the criticism was unjustified. One only had to read the work of Joyce Carol Oates, Barbara Kingsolver, Toni Morrison, Deborah Eisenberg, Alice Munro or Margaret Atwood (to name just a smattering of modern day female fiction writers) to know how absurdly baseless Naipul’s remarks are.

Mouth Full of Argument and No One to Argue With

So this is a conversation I had with a friend about a week ago:

Me: Did you see the post on Blog X?

Friend: You mean where he put up a picture of a poster in Williamsburg that tells women to move to a side when men are likely to bump into them?

Me: Yep, that’s the one.

Friend: Ugh, disgusting. The frummies keep making up new chumrahs every day.

Me: But that poster is just put up by one meshugane guy. Same guy who hires a car with a microphone every chol hamoed, shouting that no one should go and see the plays and presentations performed at different venues. He’s a fruitcake.

Publications Represent The Ideal: My Response to Amy Davidson in the New Yorker

I received an email from a friend informing me that my Photoshopped Hillary post was mentioned in the New Yorker. Intrigued (and not a little flattered), I clicked on the link my friend provided. Well, turns out, I wasn’t exactly mentioned in a New Yorker article (*sigh*), but someone did recommend my post in the comment section on a piece called, “The Bin Laden Raid and the Vanishing Women,” by Amy Davidson.

Although it was quite deflating to find out no one at the New Yorker had noticed my lovely blog, I was actually glad I’d gotten to read Davidson’s short essay. Not because it was an enjoyable, funny little read—although it was!—but because I disagreed with a point she made and wanted to comment on it. Unfortunately, no matter what I tried, I couldn’t register with the site, and you have to be registered in order to comment. (If anyone knows how to go about registering, please let me know. My email to the mag went unanswered.)

The Photoshopped Hilary Clinton Brouhaha

Ultra-Orthodoxy (aka Hasidism) is one of the most misunderstood denominations, and the brouhaha over the photoshopped Hilary Clinton picture is the latest example. The general assumption is that women being refused “face space” in ultra-orthodox publications is due to a tacit attempt to “silence” the female voice as well as the overall lack of respect for women in ultra-orthodox society. Although several pundits—Albert Friedman, publisher of Di Tzeitung, and Dov Hikind, NYS Assemblyman, among them—have attempted to explain that not publishing images of women is merely a modesty standard that the Orthodox abide by, few people are listening.

And small wonder. Hilary Clinton is not what one would think of as a sex symbol. To say that cutting her picture is necessary in order not to incite lustful thoughts seems, to the world at large, a ludicrous explanation. Furthermore, feminist discourse has (thankfully, in my opinion) become commonplace, and so, the phrases “silencing the woman” and “dominant male ideology” are part of the layman’s lexicon, springing instinctively to mind in a situation such as this. Never mind that bookstores catering to the Orthodox are filled with books about inspirational women and/or by female authors, belying the silencing of women claim, and that the ultra-orthodox were on the whole, exceedingly supportive of Hilary during her run for presidency, negating the lack of respect for women claim. These facts are dismissed and ignored. As is typical with stereotypes and preconceived opinions, the popular viewpoint prevails, despite evidence to the contrary. 

New Look

Hello Readers,
A friend let me know that the design of my blog makes it difficult for people to read my posts on their phones. I actually loved the design, but function is more important than style. So I'm trying out this new look. If you have an opinion on it, please share.
RFiedler

The Nature of Hasidism: Guest Post by HH

What is Hassidisim (the Beshtian Judaic movement as opposed to the modern societal subculture)? There seem to be inconsistencies about the nature of Hassidism.

Hassidism is generally thought of as a folk movement, but the early-generation disciples (Hassidim) were strictly scholars. The romantic and archetypical future Hassidic leader is tortured by a poignant hankering to an eluding spirituality his young soul cannot achieve through Torah study alone until it finds contentment with the teachings of a Hassidic court. And Hassidic leaders are said to have plied their prowess to lure the elite, and many a strife erupted over the seduction of the rabbi’s-prodigal-son into the cult. Stories do abound about charismatic rebbes traversing the shtetels to inspire peasants, and profound maxims that ennoble the value of the simple Jewish soul are quoted. However, those were merely services provided by the movement to the populace. Hasidism has not, it seems, invited those peasants into its own ranks, leastways not during its early stages.

Documentary Recommend: Waiting For Superman

I don’t know who most of the readers of this blog are, but I suspect that few have gone to a U.S. public school or have sent/are sending their kids there. Still, it’s important to be aware of the sobering reality of our public school system, particularly how it fails minorities and those without decent financial resources. These people—the ones strapped in this morass of failure from which it is exceedingly difficult to climb out of—are our neighbors, our fellow passengers on the trains, our checkout cashiers, our deliverymen. They are also the ones we’re terrified of. The ones who burglarize our homes, taunt our kids in their schoolyards, even occasionally beat us to the point of needing hospitalization. To understand their reality, it is worthwhile to check out David Guggenheim’s documentary, Waiting for Superman. It may not make us less terrified, but it will at least give us some insight. And it may possibly help dispel bigotry and hatred and narrow-mindedness.

Food for Thought

I often have lunch at a particular restaurant and nearly every time I go, I spot a woman there. She appears to be in her 50s. She is tall, thin, beautiful, with that regal graciousness that certain women seen to inherently possess. She is always alone, always reading a book or magazine, and always orders the identical dish. She eats slowly and elegantly, as if she is savoring each spoonful. One time, just after she left, I struck up a conversation with the waiter. He informed me that this woman has been coming in for lunch every single day and eating the same exact dish for at least twenty-two years, which is when he started working at this restaurant.

This astounds me. What does this say about a person that she follows a specific regimen for more than two decades, never varying any part of it? And what does it say about me that I’m so, so curious about her?

Doublethink

When people (both laymen and scholars) want to analyze a certain mindset or behavior of an Orthodox Jew, they look to the Torah* for validation of their analysis. For example, if they are trying to understand why a mega-store like B&H in Manhattan would shut down their entire operation at 1pm on Friday plus all of Saturday, they will look to the Torah for an explanation. And they will find one (or more likely, more than one).** They will then cite the Torah’s precept, thus validating their reasoning.

The Torah does, indeed, serve as the Jew’s guidebook in a lot of ways. Which is why it makes sense theoretically to base an analysis of a Jew’s behavior on its contents. However, in actuality, this is not always a credible methodology. Orthodox Jews are part of western society and as such, cannot help but be influenced by its material and moral norms. When people who are raised Orthodox encounter a contemporary viewpoint, their minds instinctively filter it through the already inculcated viewpoints they have been raised with. If the new viewpoint contradicts their previous one, they may do one of four things: reject the new view; reject the old view; develop cognitive dissonance; or engage in doublethink.

Something to Think About

I found this thought-provoking line in a novel called A Gate at the Stairs by Lorrie Moore:

 “Still, mostly the Amish were buying up farms as is, and holding services in their parlors, though it was bitterly said in Dellacrosse that their wagons and trotting horses chipped and dinged the roads and that their houses were declared churches in order to stay off the tax rolls and that they bred like rabbits and dressed like bats.”

Hmm. Do people instinctively disdain groups who hold themselves apart? Is there a strain of envy toward individuals who are completely uncool and yet don’t seem to care?

Is there truth to what the people in Dellacrosse are saying about the Amish? Do the Amish, then, have in common with hasidim more than just the beards?

Documentary Recommend: Catfish

Catfish is a sort of kooky documentary with an offbeat vibe that is both mellow and thrilling. This odd combination is due to its characters (who all—Nev, Angela, and even Angela’s husband—have this mellow, placid thing going) and its fairly suspenseful plot. I don’t mean suspenseful or thrilling in the Alfred Hitchcock, sitting-at-the-edge-of-your-seat way. The suspense is more psychological. First, you wonder what’s really going on in this strange storyline. And once you figure it out, you’re left wondering about the roots and the causes of the characters’ actions. Loneliness, our need for love, our need for security, our ability to lie to ourselves—these are some of the aspects of the human psyche that can be studied in this film. Social media, with its various repercussions, play an important role, too. (Some may feel it is the most significant psychological/sociological factor in this documentary.)

I loved the film. But I do want to caution that it requires a certain capacity for “suspension of disbelief” to imagine that the story was filmed chronologically. The film worked for me regardless.

Book Review: Yiddish Civilisation

Yiddish Civilisation; The  Rise and Fall of a Forgotten Nation

By Paul Kriwaczek

Vintage Books, 357 Pages

Yiddish Civilisation by Paul Kriwaczek is not a new book (it was published in 2005), but I happened to spot it in a small independent bookstore two weeks ago, the first I’d ever seen or heard of it. What a lucky find. The book offers a running history of the formation and evolvement of Jews as a cultural group, starting from Classical times up to the very beginning of the twentieth century. What’s refreshing about the author’s take on this is that he chooses to focus on the periods of history when Judaism was a vibrant, successful, progressive society, who contributed significantly to the economic, intellectual, and communal growth of the societies they were part of. Instead of regurgitating the well-chronicled “lachrymose interpretation” (Salo Baron’s term, quoted by Paul Kriwaczek) of Jewish history, which mainly emphasizes all the travails of the Jews, most notably the Holocaust, Kriwaczek leads us back to the forgotten beginnings of this singular people. 

Though I wouldn’t call this book a light read, it is more accessible than typical scholarly books. Perhaps the reason is that Kriwaczek is not a scholar per se, meaning he doesn’t have the standard academic credentials (as far as I was able to ascertain) to establish him as a certified authority on the topic he writes about. According to the blurb on the book’s front page, his background is in film-making and journalism. However, instead of detracting from the book’s legitimacy, I believe it gives Kriwaczek an edge. He uses his journalistic experience to bring descriptions to life. With such charming alliterative phrases, such as “for seekers of sun, sea, sand and sex,” which describes the current holiday destination of the ancient Mediterranean coast of Turkey, the tone remains refreshingly light in face of the mass of heavy detail the book imparts.

The author calls this people a “Yiddish Civilisation.” The word Yiddish, however, is not meant to be defined as the language, but rather encompasses the Jewish culture as a whole. This is an interesting and quite clever classification, because it enables the author to present a broad umbrella under which is included nuanced, intricate historical and sociological details, all of which serve as part of this “Yiddish civilisation.”

In fact, it takes about four chapters of the book to get to the actual formation of a Yiddish civilization. Until then, these people were “Roman (or whichever empire they belonged to) citizens of Jewish faith.” According to Kriwaczek, it was the collapse of the Roman economic system—which forced Jews to become businessmen and money lenders—that turned them into a separate nationality: the Jews.

Kriwaczek challenges the stereotype of “Jewish greed,” explaining that high returns for loans were the inevitable consequence of an insecure financial environment. He also challenges the attitude, popular among many traditional Jews today, that the Jews always suffered more than their countrymen. He specifically emphasizes that despite prevalent anti-Jewish rioting, “early medieval Jews were not especially singled out for particularly barbaric treatment.”  

Once you get past the first third of the book, the material becomes a bit less original (most of the data is covered in other texts) though not less enjoyable. There’s a detailed section devoted to Glikl of Hamlin, whose Yiddish memoir is the first of its kind by a woman (as far as we know).  He also mentions another famous female writer, Litte of Ratisbon, who wrote the Shmuel Buch. And he gives some space to Rabbi Jacob ben Isaac Ashkenazi of Janow’s Taytch Chumesh, which was later renamed the Tseynareyna (from the Song of Solomon’s Z’enah u R’enah), a book that has been published in more than two hundred editions and is still in print today. In fact, along with several pieces of jewelry, the Z’enah U’renah is one of the traditional gifts Hasidic grooms purchase for their brides.

Kriwaczek covers the “Maimonidean controversy,” the dispute involving the Rambam’s teachings. He also includes Rabbi Moshe Isserles’ (Rema) contributions to the study of astronomy and Kabbalah. Kriwaczek points to the Cracow Jewish quarter's physical proximity to the Cracow Academy (where Copernicus was a student), a detail that explains the inevitability of the Yiddish civilization’s interest in the field of astronomy.    

In a chapter entitled, “The New Yiddish World,” Kriwaczek offers some fascinating tidbits on the Yiddish language. Although scholars such as Paul Wexler, Dovid Katz and Mordche Schaechter (among others) have already explored and recorded much of this information, the concise account in this book serves as a basic introduction to Yiddish language and literature for those who may not have the necessary background in this genre.

The book culminates with a description of the Yiddish literary revival within the Haskoleh movement. It includes details on various famous Yiddish novelists and poets. The last line of the book is a line from the Passover hagaddah: “All who are hungry, let them come and eat.” Indeed, this is an appropriate directive to readers: All who are hungry for knowledge of Jewish history, come and partake of this literary feast.

Recommend: "Haley Barbour’s Close Shave" by Andrew Ferguson

I just read an excellent article in February’s Commentary titled “Haley Barbour’s Close Shave.” The writer, Andrew Ferguson, was the author of an article in the Economist that spiraled out of control in a ludicrous, yet oh so typical, way. The subject of Ferguson’s original article was Haley Barbour, a Mississippi Governor and presidential prospect. He uttered one simple sentence (not racist) that a gossip publication picked up, misconstrued it as racist, said as much online, and there it went… a modern day Salem witch trial. Ferguson’s insights about our “wired-up, blogged-over, twittering world” as well as our culture’s hysteria over anyone perceived to have possibly said something racist are worth noting.

(Commentary articles are only available to online or print subscribers. If you’re thinking of subscribing, be aware that politically the magazine leans heavily to the conservative side.)

Hasidic Women: Equal or Abused?

Back in 1923, S.A. Horodecky, a noted scholar on hasidism, made the claim that hasidism confers complete equality on the Jewish woman.[1] Ada Rapoport debunked his theory approximately sixty years later, but up to then, the understanding among scholars was that hasidism boasted a more egalitarian gender perspective than did other branches of Judaism.[2] This theory was mostly unexamined; scholars merely accepted Horodecky’s findings as fact and built their own work upon this alleged fact.

I point out this tidbit not because I want to re-investigate the Horodecky/Rapoport argument (I find modern hasidism such a different creature from the original hasidic movement that I see no point in using the movement’s early attitudes as a yardstick for measuring today’s), but rather because I revel in the irony. Namely, the irony of the contemporary acknowledged “fact” of hasidism’s gender inequality.

Nowadays, the regarded theoretical norm—unexamined, mostly, much like Horodecky’s findings—by both Jewish and non-Jewish pseudo-scholars and laymen is that women within the hasidism construct hold a lowly position in every aspect. It seems Horodecky’s findings have become irrelevant: not only is hasidism not regarded as affording women more equality than other Jewish denominations do, but the “pitiful, subjugated, mistreated second-class hasidic woman” has become the modern stereotype.

Part of the reason for this stereotype, I believe, is a trickle-down effect of feminists’ struggle within Judaism. Their valiant efforts to make a place for women in formal Judaism has led to numerous discussions, writings, and debates on the matter, all of which have helped some women achieve positions as Rabbis, Talmudic scholars and other capacities of status in Judaism’s public space, albeit mainly in non-Orthodox denominations. But the constant criticism of Orthodox Judaism’s lack of opportunity for female status positions led the general public—who most likely have but a shallow interest or understanding of the matter—to ascertain that OJ treats women shabbily in general. And who is the most conspicuously orthodox of the Orthodox? The hasidim, of course. Ergo, hasidism views and treats women as second class.

To the world at large (barring some scholars, sociologists, or anthropologists who have taken the time to actually observe and/or participate in the contemporary hasidic society instead of just buying into stereotypes, but absolutely including people who comment “knowledgably” on facebook, twitter and online blogs), this generally means that girls and women have less value as people within hasidic society, that hasidic husbands mistreat and abuse their wives[3], that women are treated as cattle and don’t get a say in how they and their families live their lives.

How the gender theory on hasidism has moved from Horodecky’s radical egalitarianism to women being consistently abused in less than a century is one of the marvels of  modern day technology, where everyone may espouse authoritatively on every topic on the world wide web, regardless of veracity or her/his expertise on the subject. Furthermore, film-makers, novelists, and even journalists tend to take the easy path when depicting hasidim, simply presenting them according to the prevailing stereotype. Although Orthodox Judaism forbids spousal abuse, and although—as hasidic insiders know—most hasidic wives “rule the roost,” the stereotype of the docile, submissive, abused hasidic woman remains  the conventional truism. Perhaps it is time for another Ada Rapoport to dig deep enough to actually discover the truth.

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[1] See Ha-Hasidut vehaHasidim, the chapter entitled “The Maid of Ludmir” by S.A. Horodecky

[2] See “On Women in Hasidism, S.A. Horodecky and The Maid of Ludmir Tradition” by Ada Rapoport-Albert

[3] See Wendy Graf’s interview about her play Behind the Gates

Recommendation: Exit Through the Gift Shop

Exit Through the Gift Shop is a documentary about the emergence of the street art movement. It is directed by “Banksy,” a noted street artist whose work ended up selling for thousands of dollars at Sotheby’s and Christie’s auction houses.  The documentary’s main character is Theirry Guetta, a guy who is portrayed as partly retarded and partly brilliant, and the viewer is never sure whether to laugh at or with him. Banksy, whose face is never seen (even his hands are covered in gloves, and his voice is distorted by a voice disguiser) is genius. I don’t want to give the plot away, but I will say that Banksy’s cheeky chutzpah gives this documentary a cool, fun side that’s missing from so many docs that take themselves too seriously.  Whether it’s Banksy’s fabulous British deadpan humor or the fact that he remains in mysterious secrecy throughout, he is a character that wriggles his way into your gut. I find myself still thinking about him days after I’ve watched the doc. See it! And let me know what you think.

Welcome

Welcome! In this blog I hope to explore two of my great interests: Hasidism and contemporary literature. I know the two are unrelated; in fact, Hasidic precepts disapprove of (may even be in direct contradiction to) contemporary secular literature.  Nevertheless, I have a passionate curiosity in both of these disciplines and will, however idiosyncratically, use this forum to indulge in them.

I invite all who share my enthusiasm to contribute comments, guest posts, book recommendations, photography and digital art. The book recommendations need not be long and detailed (though of course in-depth analyses would be fabulous) but can be a simple one-paragraph explanation of why you like/dislike a certain book or short story. I’d also be delighted to include articles on any topic in Hasidism, regardless of context or time period. Feel free to offer your insights and knowledge of Hasidism: historical or modern, formal or social, political or personal.

Thank you for visiting. I’m looking forward to spending many enlightening, entertaining hours here with you.