Books

From today’s Los Angeles Jewish Journal, here’s my review of Rabbi Yitzchak Etshalom’s Between The Lines of the Bible: A Study From the New School of Orthodox Torah Commentary, Published by Yashar Books, Inc. Brooklyn NY.

The original title of my review was: “The Unbearbale Pleasure of Torah Between the Lines.”

I wrote a sidebar that was meant to achieve a few simple things:

1. To disclose that I daven with Rabbi Etshalom in the Young Israel of Century City Early Minyan.
2. To reveal that Rabbi Etshalom is a sophisticated and fun man, not an ivory tower scholar.
3. To infuse a little fun into an otherwise straightforward review.
4. And, let’s face it, I can never pass up the opportunity to recommend a few great American, Japanese and Chinese films.

Anyway, the Journal cut the sidebar because they did not have the space.

But I do. And here it is.

The Cholent Club

Full disclosure: I’m a member of the Young Israel of Century City where I attend the early minyan. Guess who’s the Rabbi of the early minyan? Yup. Rabbi Yitzchak Etshalom. Okay, you’re thinking I have to give this book a good review. Well, truth is, I didn’t have to review the book at all. I did it because I admired and learned a great deal from this fine volume. Besides, Rabbi Etshalom and I have a pretty proscribed relationship. After services, the minyan gathers in back and everyone positively dives for the cholent. Here’s an example of what Rabbi Etshalom and I talk about. As you’ll see, we Orthodox are involved in, um, truly profound Torah conversations.

Rabbi Etshalom: So Robert, what’s the best Civil War movie ever made?
Me: Ride with the Devil, 1999, starring Tobey Maguire, written by James Schamus and directed by Ang Lee. A neglected masterpiece.
Rabbi Etshalom: Okaaay. Never heard of it. I’ll Netflix it. Have you seen any really good martial arts movies lately?
Me: Hero, starring Jet Li and the stunning Ziyi Zhang. Look for the battle scene at the calligraphy school. Poetry in motion.
Rabbi Etshalom: Netflix again. I happen to love Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.
Me: The sword fight in the trees, a true b’racha.
Rabbi Etshalom: Can you recommend any great Japanese movies?
Me: Akira Kurosawa’s The Seven Samurai. The greatest movie ever made.
Rabbi Etshalom: Oh, I’ve seen it, of course.
Me: Rashomon.
Rabbi Etshalom: Are you kidding, a classic.
Me: Ugetsu.
Rabbi Etshalom: Noooooo, never even heard of it.
Me: Unbelievable film. It was produced in 1953, directed by the great Kenji Mizoguchi, and stars Machiko Kyo, absolutely the most talented and beautiful actress ever to appear in the movies. Mystical and terribly tragic. It’s like the most Jewish of Japanese movies.
Rabbi Etshalom: Great, this calls for more cholent.

Recently, I called The Moonflower Vine, one of the finest American novels I had ever read.

This obscure book, the one and only novel ever written by the mysterious Jetta Carleton, appears to be autobiographical. But make no mistake about it, this is a supremely crafted work of fiction that is deeply imagined, vividly evoked in all its parts; a story that instantly grabs you, draws you into the lives and, yes, the passionate loves of five members of the Soames family: Matthew and Callie, the husband and wife, and their daughters, Jessica, Leonie, Mathy and Mary Jo the generous narrator.

The prose is light as air and yet at the same time dense and precise. Yes, Carleton’s able to carry off these two seemingly contradictory techniques at the same time. Carleton slips into the minds of each character so effortlessly that we are never aware of her supreme craft. This, to me, signifies greatness in a writer: the ability to hide method. I have never cared for writers who make make their craft part of the story. This is material for grad students who have way too much time on their hands; grim and joyless professors who have forgotten the core love of stories, literary elites who no longer read yarns but, goodness gracious, get paid to “deconstruct texts.”

INTERPOLATION #1

This is all just code for Marxist theory which the academics are currently relabeling. Afterall, their precious but murderous ideology sort of got a bad rap after word got out that their demigod Mao murdered some 60 million of his own people in the name of the, ahem, people’s revolution. And the fall of the equally murderous and utterly corrupt Soviet Union was, er, not so good for the cause either. All those nasty gulags. But hey, that never seems to deter the true believers. They simply tell us and each other–endlessly, ponderously, insulting the facts and our intelligence–that that wasn’t real communism.

Sound familiar?

Yup, just like the apologists for the jihadist throat-slitters, the fine folks who never tire of tellings us that that isn’t real Islam.

Uh-huh.

END INTERPOLATION #1

Awareness of the author’s craft has always sealed off a select group of great authors for me and made them, well, not-so-great. In fact, if not for some college lit courses, I would never crack the bindings of these author’s books–for their works are boring, unpleasant, unreadable, in truth, unbearable. Here’s a short list: everything Samuel Beckett ever wrote , the James Joyce of Ulysses and Finnegans Wake, whole chunks of Faulkner, and the “mature” Henry James novels, The Golden Bowl, The Ambassadors, and The Wings of the Dove are a true misery. Did you know that James referred to himself as The Master? I suppose he had to–his book sales were dismal.

Anyway, I’ve received over a dozen private e-mails thanking me for recommending The Moonflower Vine. So far not a single Seraphic friend has scolded me for making them waste their money on purchasing the book, no one has told me that I’ve stolen hours from their lives. In fact, each and every Seraphic friend has so adored Moonflower that they have demanded that I recommend another obscure and great novel.

Not so easy.

The pressure is on.

I take my blogging responsibilities seriously. Ask Karen, at four in the morning when I should be sleeping I toss and I turn and feel guilty that I have yet to come up with just that right combination of greatness and obscurity.

It would be easy to reach into the back of my bookshelf…

I’m doing it riiiiight now, and pluck out–

–here we go, that fabulous but now obscure (Nobel Prize-winner, 1928) Norwegian novelist Sigrid Undsted and tell you to read her magnificent three-volume work Kristin Lavransdatter. Undsted’s portrait of a single woman’s life, and of course Norwegian society, in the 14th century is a true epic and at the same time an intimate portrait of a single soul.

But I’m not recommending this great trilogy. That’s too easy. Besides, it’s not in the American grain.

Okay, go ahead and read it if you want to. It’s stupendous. And besides, how many Norwegian novels are you ever going to read?

Answer: Very few.

Do you remember Yom Kippur? My list of the Ten Top Civil War Movies, except there are only eight movies on the list because there aren’t ten great Civil War movies.

Anywhooo.

Of that list, my highest recommendation went to Ride with the Devil. It is Ang Lee’s best film. James Schamus wrote the script and in the comments section I pointed out, twice, I think, that there is a classic piece of dialogue. Here’s the set-up.

Jake, Tobey Maguire, a Missouri bushwacker, has just married Sue Lee, played by country Western singer Jewel. On their wedding night, Sue Lee, a widow, senses Jake’s sexual innocence.

Sue Lee: Are you a virgin?
Jake: Girl, I’ve killed fifteen men.

Afterwards, I wondered, was this brilliant exchange original dialogue or skillfully lifted from the the novel from which it was adapted?

Over Shabbos, I sat down and read Woe to Live On by Daniel Woodrell from which Ride with the Devil is based.

Read it straight through in three hours.

(And yes, that dazzling bit of dialogue is straight from the novel.)

I am here to say that Woe to Live On, a novel of the Civil War is:

1. Obscure

2. Great.

3. American.

4. Poetic.

5. Timeless.

6. Savage.

7. Lush.

8. Disciplined.

9. Understated.

10. True

Caution: Whereas The Moonflower Vine can be comfortably read by either male or female readers, I should point out that Woe to Live On is a classic “man’s” novel. It has scenes of violence that are stomach churning–not in detail but because they are so very casual, as is violence in war.

The time is 1860
, the place, the border states of Kansas and Missouri–

Interesting, The Moonflower Vine also takes place in Missouri.

Hmmmm…. Does anyone see a pattern emerging?

–While the regular armies clash in the east in the great battles of the Civil War, Jayhawkers and southern Bushwackers turn the border states into a wasteland, savaging all in their wake. They call themselves irregulars but they were American terrorists.

INTERPOLATION #2

Both the Northern and Confederate Armies treated these “irregulars” with the exact same measure of justice that men who did not wear uniforms deserved. When captured there were no long drawn-out trials, no prison terms , certainly no habeas corpus.

The irregulars were hung from the nearest tree. No precious lead was wasted on these spoilers of the rules of war.

North and South understood that a man without a uniform is an argument for chaos. As different as their ideologies the Army of the Potomac and the Army of Northern Virginia agreed that a man under a black flag deserved nothing but contempt — and swift justice.

Alas, such moral clarity has been lost, hence we are a weaker and more vulnerable civilization.

We see ourselves as principled and compassionate, thus stronger. But our enemies see not justice and compassion but weakness and decadence.

Their perception is correct.

Our vision is dim and delusional

END INTERPOLATION #2

Woe to Live On is the story of sixteen-year old Jake Roedel, it is a unique and terrifying coming-of-age story. It’s the story of love and war and we at Seraphic Secret consider this brief but powerful novel to be a uniquely great American work.

Read it and let us know what you think, for we are always anxious to hear from our wise readers.

*****

Oh, and Virtual Jerusalem is running what has to be the most humilaiting dating experience ever in the How I Married Karen series.

This is the chapter that, I imagine, my offspring read, cringe, and publicly deny that I am their father.

Who can blame them?

To share in the humiliation, click here for Chapter 18, Flushing in Brooklyn.

If you want to understand what’s happening in the world right now, just read William Manchester’s Winston Spencer Churchill: The Last Lion Alone, 1932-1940.

This superb volume book chronicles Churchill’s courageous and lonely battle against pacifism, disarmament and appeasement. Churchill was politically isolated in Parliament, often jeered and scorned when he warned of the growing Nazi threat.

He fought men who had stooped to the acme of gullibility and self-delusion.

And it’s happening once again as Islamic imperialism darkly threatens western civilization.

But I want to veer away from politics for a moment.

I want to ask a question — about love.

Early in the book, Manchester writes about Clementine Churchill, Winston’s loving and mostly loyal wife, and her brief three-month affair with a wealthy art dealer, Terence Philip.

Manchester quotes La Rochefoucauld: In any affair one partner is the lover and the other the beloved.

Long afterward Clementine conceded that the initiative had been hers.

Clementine said: “He made me love him.”

Thus Philip, seven years younger, was the beloved.

The question I pose to my wise readers is: In marriage does this maxim also hold true?

The War of Tammuz, Hizbullah, Katyusha rockets, IDF casualties, kidnapped soldiers, UN barbarians; my every waking hour is preoccupied with Israel and her fate and how most of the world and the frenzied left in America have lined up against Israel, against Jews.

I wake in the middle of the night with lower back pain, a swamp of agony like you wouldn’t believe.

Psychosomatic?

I crawl out of bed, grab the closest Jane Austen novel, Pride & Prejudice, and try to control the intensity of the pain by concentrating on Jane’s impeccable prose, on her astonishing characters, on the perfection of her structure.

It works, to a degree.

This morning, comes the e-mail below from an old Seraphic Friend.

And so I feel justified in suspending my obsessive coverage and comments of the war zone, of the moral idiots who do not or cannot recognize evil because they live lives that are too leisured, too disconnected from any physical threats. Indeed, the most pivotal moment in their lives is whether to get a double or triple latte. To them, Hizbullah are interesting for the fashion potential of the turban Shiek Nasrallah wraps round his head, not that he might be storing chemical and biological weapons courtesy of Iran via Syria.

Seraphic Secret interrupts The War of Tammuz for Jane Austen and things about Jane Austen always matter.

Karen and I wish you all a lovely and meaningful Shabbos.

**********

Dear Robert:

Since you are at fault for getting me so involved in “Pride and Prejudice,” I had to write to you and give you my review of the book and the recent film adaptation starring Keira Knightley.

It is already a cliche to say that movies based on books are poor adaptations. There are also always the purists who complain of this or that change of detail. I have subscribed to this cliche on many an occasion. However, when it comes to the recent adaptation starring Keira Knightley, I was shocked to discover how thrilled to tears I was to discover how much I enjoyed the film and how pleased I was to discover its faithfulness to the Austen’s novel. Often I judged its faithfulness by emotions engendered by certain scenes that were identical in every way to the emotions created by those passages in the book, only more so.

Some thoughts:

1) One remarkable achievement of the novel was its portrayal of the love and affection Elizabeth and Jane bore for one another. I have noticed the tendency all novels have to put the main protagonist on a pedestal that leaves every single other character in the story, save the love interest or on occasion the extraordinarily wise sagacious character, seem faulty or stupid or weak by comparison. Jane and Elizabeth’s relationship break that rule. Keira Knightley and Rosamund Pike both do such an astounding job of portraying that sisterly closeness that I was in tears at certain parts of the film. Knightley’s stunning smile that just breaks out like the sun suddenly coming above the horizon whenever Jane is happy does a much better job of demonstrating the love than my imagination could.

2) Matthew MacFadyen’s Darcy was believable in all respects, cold and tender. Our first sight of his ability to smile splendidly, when Georgiana sees him for the first time, doesn’t seem to contradict his previous behaviour.

3) The Bingley siblings were a delight to behold. I did not perceive the book’s Caroline to be as haughty as the movie’s Caroline.

4) I hated the movie’s Lydia as much as the book’s Lydia. Slutty and stupid.

5) Dame Dench’s Lady De Burgh could not have been done better. The movie’s Mr. Collins evoked more sympathy than the book’s version. But both do a splendid job of portraying the clueless buffoon he is.

6) A few changes I noticed: The movie gave the Lizzie-Darcy relationship a “love at first sight” quality I did not at all perceive in the book. Perhaps I missed it when I read it…

7) Keira’s acting when she tells Darcy off at the first ball, speaking of dancing even with people you don’t find tolerable merits her an Oscar even without the rest of the movie. The movie Lizzie’s feelings are tangibly hurt far more than the novel Lizzie.

8) The statement made in the film by one of the younger daughters about being embarrassed by Mrs. Bennet, while the latter was in the room, made me feel for her in a way I never did when reading the book. Mrs. Bennet’s comment to Lizzie about coming back to her when she has five daughters she needs to marry was poignant and added a new dimension to understanding her, as well as making me think worse of Mr. Bennet, who in comparison doesn’t seem concerned about his daughters’ futures.

9) One glaring error in the movie that deserves mention is the director’s decision to put the Pemberly maid’s comments, about how wonderful Darcy is, in the background noise of the scene, as if it didn’t really matter. I only knew to listen because I was expecting it. Someone who had not read the book would think Lizzie’s impression of Darcy was improved by the Greek statues!

10) The character of Charlotte was very ably represented. A far stronger character than the book’s.

If you have any thoughts you have time to share, I would be appreciative.

Have a good Shabbos.

Eli

“On July 16, 1940 George Orwell noted that many intellectuals of the London Left were completely defeatist, ready to give up, while the middle-class people were not.”

This quote is from page 172 of John Lukacs’s The Duel, an utterly absorbing study of the titanic eighty-day struggle between Churchill and Hitler, 10 May – 31 July 1940.

Hitler’s powerful army had invaded and now occupied Czechoslovakia, Poland, Belgium, Holland, and France.

And now Germany was poised to invade England.

Chamberlain and Halifax, appeasers, stepped aside and Winston Churchill, an outsider, mocked as a “mongrel” by the British upper classes because of his American mother, formed a government and became a bulwark against the Nazi tide.

If not for Winston Churchill, Western Civilization as we know it today would probably not exist.

Reading this fine book is at times depressing for people do not change. The appeasers of the left are still with us. The ways in which Winston Churchill were mocked are achingly familiar.

True, George Bush does not have the oratory skills of Churchill, but he does recognize evil and he understands that the barbaric mindset, and the rising tide of terrorism and state sponsored terrorism of the Arab world can no longer be tolerated.

To most of the western world in the late 30’s it was easier to believe that Herr Hitler could be dealt with, could be negotiated with. There were peace parties all over Britian, especially in the churches, well meaning dolts who made sure that Britian was not prepared for war. And as a result millions died, deaths that could easily have been avoided. These peace parties, ultimately, are mass murderers.

And they are still with us. A branch of the Presbyterian Church just met with Hamas in Beirut about divesting from Israel. These Church people are collaborating with mass murderers, collaborating with a government whose covenant calls for the destruction of Israel.

To me what’s most interesting about this book is that Churchill always understood Hitler whereas Hitler never really understood Winston Churchill; no Hitler spent much more time simply hating Churchill.

And Hitler absolutely never understood the first thing about America. Which ultimately crushed him.

I look at the Arab world and I pretty much see the same scenario playing itself out in the long run. Political Islam has a only a surface understanding of America and Americans. Their contempt for America, and especially for American women and their freedoms, trumps all.

For if they were to truly get to know us, truly understand us, they would instantly become one of us; and so they keep their distance with a blinding hatred that in the end will lead to their demise.