‘Exodus, Revisited’ by Deborah Feldman

2021, 348 p.

I read this fairly soon after finishing Deborah Feldman’s Unorthodox, written in 2009 which I reviewed here. It is an updating and enlargement of her second memoir Exodus, which was published in 2014 (which I have not read). She could, in no way, be accused of having an ‘unexamined life’ as it has served as the grist for all her writing output to now (in English, at least). I wonder how many memoirs she has left in her: I’m not sure that her life is significant enough to merit three memoirs.

But here we are in 2021, and she’s writing again. The last part of Unorthodox felt rushed, as she bolted towards her present day in 2009. In this book she slows down, and backtracks to describe the process of leaving her marriage and attending college to take her place in the ‘outside’ world. It was difficult for her, and much of the early part of the book involves her tracing through her insecurities and difficulties in establishing a new identity, separate from her family. She does not ever feel properly ‘American’, having been raised in a community with a different language and starkly different lifestyle and religious practices. In order to share custody of her son Isaac, she still needs to live close to her ex-husband Eli, so she exists in an in-between space, separated but still tethered to her previous life through her son. Once her divorce is granted, she can shift further away from New York, still sharing custody of her son, whom she still wants to embrace his own Jewish identity, but without all the rules and prohibitions that curtailed her own life.

It is because she has shared custody that she can carve out large periods of time to travel overseas to Europe, where her American identity is reinforced, but she herself feels more at home. Part of this is the vicarious trauma that she felt she absorbed from her beloved grandmother, who was a concentration camp survivor. She embarks on a bit of a ‘Who Do You Think You Are’ genealogical search, visiting places important to her grandmother’s life, a genre of writing that doesn’t particularly appeal to me, I’m afraid. Nor is the writing is as tight in this follow-up, and her use of adjectives is particularly cloying.

After a succession of relationships with European men (particularly German men), it is as if she is deliberately putting her hand into the flame by being drawn to Germany, the source of the Holocaust. She seeks out anti-semitism and is outraged when she finds it, and is judgmental of societies which she feels have not condemned it sufficiently.

I must admit that at this point, her book runs into present-day politics that did not exist when she wrote it. She follows closely a court-case against an offensively tattooed neo-Nazi whom she saw in her local swimming pool who receives a lenient sentence under Germany’s anti-Nazi laws. She is only satisfied when the court case is appealed by the state prosecution all the way up through the court system until the man is finally jailed (albeit for a short period of time). While she is no Zionist (in fact, she bridled against the theocracy in Israel that prohibited everywhere the consumption of bread during a religious festival), I wonder if she would be as critical of Germany today given what I see as its determination not to condemn Israel’s actions in Gaza. The rise and possible coming to power of AfD perhaps vindicates her consciousness of latent antisemitism : on the other hand, perhaps Germany’s determination to make antisemitism unacceptable has itself given rise to AfD? It’s complicated, and I think that her own attitudes towards Germany and Germans are complicated, and somewhat distorted, too.

It says much about the stringency of the rules of the Satmar community that she leaves her family so completely, even though they are living in the same city. Her determination to pay homage to her grandmother’s experience takes her to the other side of the world, but she seems to have made no effort to see her grandmother again, even from a distance. Is she even still alive? Perhaps she knows that any attempt at contact is futile.

Even more than the first book, this one is very, very different from the Netflix program. She must be quite sure that her ex-husband, Eli, isn’t of a suing disposition because he is not at all the driven, possessive man depicted in the series. On the contrary, he accepted shared custody, and seems to have been a perfectly competent and engaged father. Certainly, she could say that Unorthodox is only based on her life, and that the producers went off on a frolic of their own at the end (something that they admit to in the accompanying Netflix documentary), but the series is unfair and just plain wrong about her ex-husband’s actions and attitudes. But someone seeing only the Netflix version, without reading this book, would be oblivious to that.

All in all, I think I’ve had enough of Ms. Feldman’s memoirs.

My rating: 6.5/10

Sourced from: Yarra Plenty Regional Library

Read because: I enjoyed Unorthodox and wanted to know what happened next.

I hear with my little ear: Podcasts 24-31 December 2024

Constitutional Clarion. Religion and Constitution Strictly speaking, this isn’t a podcast but a YouTube video, but given that the presenter, constitutional lawyer Anne Twomey is just sitting in front of a bookshelf with the occasional image popping up beside her, it may as well be. Unfortunately it’s chopped up with advertisements, which is very annoying. But the content itself really is excellent, giving a constitutional historian’s views on current events. For this Christmas episode, she admits that she had to scratch around to find any link between Christmas and the constitution- although she did find one link with wartime legislation banning Christmas and Easter advertising that did end up in court. She then broadens her survey to look at the role of religion in the Australian constitution more generally, starting with the NSW constitution which prohibited religious men from being elected (although not appointed, note) then going on to look at the Federal constitution. She talks about various court challenges over time, e.g. The Defence of Government Schools case against government funding of private schools, the Chaplaincy Act etc. Fascinating.

Being Roman with Mary Beard A Bag of Snails and a Glass of Wine Calidius Eroticus and Fannia Voluptas- surely spoof names!- were innkeepers described on a stone excavated in a vineyard in southern Italy, and so Mary embarks on looking at inns and eating-houses generally in Roman times. Upper class Romans wouldn’t be seen dead eating publicly, but the dangers of fires in closely-settled towns meant that poorer people ate communally. Some were just take-away shops, while others were more like restaurants, mimicking the eating habits of the higher classes. Snail stew…..mmmmm.

The Rest is History. Episode 456: Fall of the Sioux: The Massacre at Wounded Knee (Part 3) At last, the final episode of this series on Native Americans. I haven’t really enjoyed this series: partially because of their flippant attitude, and also because I haven’t ever really got into this aspect of American history. Chief Sitting Bull had been seduced into Buffalo Bill’s show, and unable to see visions in the Ghost Dance phenomenon that was sweeping through the remnant tribes, he had lost all authority. He was deeply depressed when the Swiss activist and friend (something more?) Mrs Caroline Weldon left him. Meanwhile, the Indian Agent James McLaughlin teamed up with Lieutenant Henry Bullhead, of the Indian Agency (similar to the Native Police in Australia) to arrest him at his cottage. He was shot and killed. His cabin was picked up and carted around as a fairground exhibit. Then the inevitable denouement, with the massacre at Wounded Knee, when Custer’s old regiment – all raw recruits who had never known Custer, but were imbued with all the ‘honor of the regiment’ rubbish- surrounded over three hundred Lakota people and massacred them. But as we know, this was not the end of Native Americans, millions of whom still live in America today, albeit in the poorest economic and social conditions. Heather Cox Richardson wrote a post about Wounded Knee on her Substack, as she does every December 29. She wrote a book about it: Wounded Knee: Party Politics and the Road to an American massacre and is obviously still shaken by it.

History Hit Following on from the episode about Tudor Christmas, Georgian Christmas takes up with the re-establishment of Christmas after being prohibited under the Puritans. In this episode, Dan Snow goes on a stroll around the streets of Islington and Clerkenwell with Footprints of London tour guide Rob Smith. It’s not all directly related to Christmas, but they do emphasize that a Georgian Christmas was a public-holiday event for working class people, who celebrated outside and in public. His guest being a tour guide, there’s lots of interesting little snippets including the fact that The Angel, Islington on the Monopoly Board was actually a pub- the only actual building other than railway stations on the board- and it was the last named, largely out of exhaustion.

‘Lady of the Realm’ by Hoa Phan

2017, 95 p.

For a book that is riven through with violence, this was a very peaceful and meditative book. Told by an elderly Buddhist nun, Liên, it covers the years 1962-2009 in six chapters, most of which are headed by a epigraph from Buddhist monk and peace activist, Thích Nhất Hạnh. The book starts in 1962 in a South Vietnamese fishing village, where Liên, the granddaughter of the keeper of the shrine to Quan Ám known as ‘The Lady of the Realm’ has a nightmare about her village being ransacked and her loved ones killed. The next day, refugees arrive from a neighbouring village telling of an attack by the Viet Minh, and some time later the Viet Minh arrive at Liên’s village, murdering the men, and raping and kidnapping the women and children. Liên and her family escape into the forest.

The second chapter sees her in Saigon in 1964 at the School of Youth and Social Service, founded by Buddhist monk Thích Nhất Hạnh. She joins as a volunteer working amongst people displaced and impoverished by the American War and meets her mentor, Buddhist nun Hu’o’ng, who warns her against anger at the Viet Minh. Hu’o’ng’s commitment to peace and Buddhism comes with a heavy price.

Chapter 3 in set in South Vietnam in 1980, after the Communist victory. Buddhist monks and nuns are treated with suspicion and a state Buddhist church is established, under government control. Liên joins the flood of displaced people moving towards Ho Chi Minh city passing close to her village. Her grandmother now dead, she finds another old woman in her village, Binh, who deals with seeming impunity in the black market and people smuggling.

In the fourth chapter, set in 1991, she encounters her childhood friend Tai, who is able to tell her what happened in the village after she escaped with her family. When a new Communist cadre arrives, barking orders at the villagers, Tai seeks passage on a people-smuggling boat, and asks Liên to go with him. She refuses.

Next chapter takes us to 2007, where she joins Thích Nhất Hạnh’s Prajna Monastery, where she feels that she has come home. The final chapter, set in the monastery in 2009 sees the monastery surrounded by paid mobs who desecrate the temples and expel the monks and nuns. Under increasing repression, she finally decides to flee to Thailand, as an old woman, taking the peace of the temple and Thích Nhất Hạnh’s teachings with her.

Such an eventful life is told calmly, with a sense of detachment. It gives a completely different perspective on the Vietnam (or American) war and is a challenge to quick assumptions about people-smugglers.

My rating: 8/10

Read because: Sue from Whispering Gums reviewed it in 2017 and wrote about it in another context recently, and linked to Lisa from ANZLitLover’s site. They both read it years ago, when it was first published. I might not have been as interested then, but I am now. I’m still listening to Lachlan Peter’s podcast ‘In the Shadow of Utopia’ which is slowly making its way towards the Vietnam War, and this all seems very real to me.

Sourced from: Kobo Plus subscription

Movie: Anora

Sort of Pretty Woman goes bad, but I think I’m too old for this movie. Grubby lives, grubby people- and this is supposed to be a comedy??? Certainly, there were no laughs from the sparse audience of people in the cinema who were a similar age to me. This won the Palme D’Or???

A nominee at the Golden Globes? Talk of an Oscar? Sheesh.

I hear with my little ear: Podcasts 16-23 December 2024

Dan Snow’s History Hit The Syrian Civil War: How it Started The recent events in Syria have seen the overthrow of the Assad regime, but in many ways Assad came to dominate because of the preceding civil war that brought his father to power. This episode with Shashank Joshi, the Defence Editor for The Economist traces through the history of Syria from WWI onwards, and the consequences of the French promoting the interests of the Alawite minority- a typical colonial-power strategy. I wish The Economist wasn’t so damned expensive: it has some interesting features.

The Coming Storm Season 2 Episode 2 Flight 007 My husband was listening to this in the car with me, and he disliked the way that Gabriel Gatehouse does not challenge the conspiracies being promulgated in these episodes. I don’t agree: I think that it’s perfectly clear that he is incredulous at some of what he is hearing. In this episode Flight 007 he discusses the conspiracy theories surrounding the Federal Reserve in America, right from its formation among bankers in 1913. He focuses on the John Birch Society and one of its leaders the Democratic Party Congressman Larry McDonald, who was killed when Flight 007 was shot down by the Soviets in 1983. A staunch conservative and anti-communist, and far more aligned to the old Southern Democrat politics rather than the modern Democrat party, McDonald’s death has fuelled further distrust of the three-letter agencies in America: a distrust that Trump has capitalized on.

In the Shadows of Utopia Episode 14: The End of French Indo-China Another long episode, with a lot in it, covering the period December 1953 – July 1955. By this time the Khmer Viet Minh controlled about 1/3 of Cambodia, but not in a clearly defined area. What mattered more was what was happening over the Vietnamese border where the Viet Cong defeated the French at the Battle of Dien Bien Phu. This battle came eight years into the war, with the French already exhausted from WW2. It took place in a valley, with the French troops dropped by air into a clearing surrounded by jungle in the middle of a Viet Minh controlled area. The Viet Minh had brought in artillery under camouflage, with Chinese and Soviet support that had been freed up after the Korean War. It was a brutal battle with a very high death rate on both sides, and when it became trench warfare, it was likened to Verdun (in WWI). Both sides suffered from jungle sickness, and amongst the Vietnamese troops PTSD and fear was seen as being ‘rightist’, a marker of the ideological language that was used to describe behaviour. The battle was important, but even before then, there was strong international pressure for a diplomatic solution. This culminated in the Geneva Convention, where the four main powers (UK, US, France and USSR) were represented, along with China, Laos, Cambodia and the Democratic Republic of Vietnam. Omitted were the Khmer Viet Minh and Issarak. It was decided to divide Vietnam into North and South Vietnam, with Cambodia and Laos to be neutral and independent, with representative governments. So by the end of July, the first Indo China War was over, and a 300 day period was set aside for people to shift from one region to another, depending on their political affiliation. In Cambodia, Sihanouk was pleased with Geneva Accords, which put an end to Vietnamese and French interference and which left the Khmer Communists very unhappy. Some Khmer Communists went back to Vietnam or French, others stayed undercover, while others remained politically involved as an outward mask for their continued secret Communist activity. However, Sihanouk wasn’t so pleased with the “representative government” part of the Accords, because the Democratic Party was likely to win.First he held a very dodgy referendum to remind Cambodians of what he claimed as his role in gaining independence, then he abdicated as King in favour of his father (who would be no threat to him) and engaged himself in the elections in his own right. He formed a ‘movement’ based on personal loyalty to him, uniting centrists, elites and the ‘little people’ who felt aggrieved (sounds rather Trumpian to me). The elections were nasty, he suppressed the media, threatened assassination and jailed opponents. As a result his Sangkum Party won all the seats. Sihanouk played all sides: he proclaimed neutrality and to reject US overtures but accepted their money quite happily and he allowed the North Vietnamse communists to act clandestinely in Cambodia as a way of sidelining the Khmer communists.

‘The Little Wartime Library’ by Kate Thompson

2022, 470 p.

‘Don’t judge a book by its cover’ they say, but they’re wrong. In these days of careful targeting and marketing, publishers know exactly who they are aiming at. Had this not been a bookgroup read, I would have run a mile, and I’d be all the better for it. At 470 albeit largish-print pages, I complained the whole way through reading this book about its tweeness, its mawkishness and its outright bad writing.

Clara is a young widow living and working in London during WW2. She works, despite the disapproval of her mother and her deceased husband Duncan’s mother, in a temporary library established during the Blitz in the Bethnal Green tube station. This station was the site of a dreadful incident in 1943 when 173 people who (incorrectly) thought they were fleeing an air-raid were crushed in the stairwell leading to the station. The Bethnal Green library in the East End had been bombed, and so a library was established in the disused Tube station. Here she needs to battle her sexist and bombastic boss Mr Pinkerton-Smythe, who disapproves of the availability of romance literature on the shelves, especially amongst working-class people who didn’t deserve library services anyway. She meets a conscientious objector, Billy, who is working as an ambulance driver, although he is sending conflicting messages. Her good-time-gal friend Ruby lives with her mother and violent stepfather Victor, trying to encourage her mother to escape. She is guilt-stricken by the death of her sister in the stairway crush, and looks to alcohol and her work as a way of escaping, too.

The characters are one-dimensional stereotypes, with the ‘goodies’ very very good and the ‘baddies’ very very bad.

Thompson pushes a strong pro-library line (not that there’s anything wrong with that) in this book and the interminable end-chapters and she relishes littering her text with the names of popular books at the time, hoping to appeal perhaps on her own readers’ love of classic 1940s texts and children’s books.

For me, it’s always a red-light when an author has to put pages and pages of acknowledgements and thanks. Four pages of thanks seems particularly excessive. This seemed like The Book That Would Never End with an Author’s Note, a historical note about the true story of the Bethnal Green library and the fight to save it, yet another author’s note about libraries, a select bibliography and her four pages of acknowledgements.

The book is predictable and “emotional and uplifting” as the blurb says, although the only emotion I felt was frustration at wasting good reading time on this bilge. Normally I don’t write such snarky reviews as this one, but I suppose that she has had enough Women’s Weekly Good Read- type sales that my negative review will make no difference at all.

My rating: 3/10

Sourced from: CAE bookgroups. I would never have read it otherwise.

I hear with my little ear: Podcasts 8-15 December 2024

The Coming Storm. This is the new season of The Coming Storm which continues on the rise of conspiracy thinking in America. After a very long introduction Episode 1 The Yogi tells the story of Allan Hostetter, an ex-policeman and former yoga teacher who seemed to be set off by COVID regulations and went further and further down the conspiracy theory rabbit hole. No doubt, he welcomes Trump’s victory and the prospect of release.

Dan Snow’s History Hit Henry VIII’s Tudor Christmas Dan Snow is doing a series on The Origins of Christmas at different times in mainly British history. Here he wanders around Hampton Court with Historic Royal Palaces chief curator Tracy Borman, going from room to room and imagining Christmas being celebrated there during Henry’s time. As they point out, the nature of the Tudor Christmas changed over time, especially as Henry aged and couldn’t be bothered with it all. The Tudor Christmas didn’t put particular emphasis on 25 December: instead, it was a 12 day festival with two large meals every day served up to over 1000 people. It was also a predominantly religious festival too, with Henry attending chapel twice a day, and later Elizabeth spent the whole of Christmas Day in prayer.

‘Unorthodox’ by Deborah Feldman

2020 (originally 2014) 256 p.

I recently watched the Netflix series based on this book, and instantly wanted to read the memoir on which it was based. My curiosity was piqued by a comment in the ‘Making of’ documentary, also on Netflix, that they had changed the modern day part in the television series because the author is still a young living, working, active writer in Germany, and they didn’t want the series to affect her present-day life. When I was about 7/8 of the way through the book, and she was still in New York, I realized that the book and the series were quite different.

Deborah Feldman was raised by her grandparents in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Her family was part of the Satmar sect of Hasidic Judaism, a sect with Hungarian roots that had been very much shaped by the Holocaust. Believing that God had allowed the Holocaust as punishment for assimilation and Zionism, the group embraced extreme conservatism in custom, dress and language, speaking only Yiddish. Her father, who was largely estranged from his daughter, seemed rather intellectually and socially challenged, and her mother had deserted the sect while Deborah was small. Although her aunts, particularly Aunt Chaya, have an influence on her upbringing and prospects, it is actually her grandmother Bubby and grandfather Zeidy, who bring her up in a loving but strict environment, where family and religion are paramount. Being brought up by elderly grandparents gives her freedoms that she would not have had in a family of siblings: she is well-educated for a Satmar girl, and she becomes an inveterate reader. As she approaches womanhood, the family orchestrates her arranged-marriage to Eli, a man equally in thrall to his own family and religion. Although Eli is in many ways more liberal than some other men, he can veer between domination and permissiveness, and when they cannot consummate their marriage, they are both under pressure from each other and their families.

There are some important differences between the book and the television series. In the book, her liberation comes not through music but through surreptitiously attending higher education, and it occurs in America, not in Germany. She leaves after she has her child, not before; indeed it is her desire to protect her son from the misogyny and strictures of Hasidic Judaism that impels her to leave her husband who, initially at least, seems just as happy to have the marriage fail as she is. She is largely silent about the custody arrangements for their son, Yitzy.

The memoir (i.e. book) was written in 2012, when she was still in the midst of act of leaving. The entire memoir is written in the present tense, but the present becomes closer and closer. As a result, the pacing of the book moves from fairly slow reflection and narrative, to a present-day rush of emotion. Because it is a memoir, the narrative is shaped completely by her viewpoint and her own flaws and strengths. (An interesting critical review of the book by another Satmar woman who also left the community can be found here.) Is it a well-written memoir? Possibly not: there is no overarching theme, beyond that of grievance and longing for freedom, perhaps. For a memoir, it has a lot of dialogue which tips it into some other genre.

Nonetheless, I found this memoir fascinating, and hard to put down. Part of that stems from my curiosity about Hasidic Judaism, particularly within enclaves like in Williamsburg. (There’s an interesting photo-essay about Williamsburg here). Yes, I have borrowed her sequel as well, a recent retelling of her 2014 follow-up Exodus.

My rating: 8/10

Sourced from: Yarra Plenty Regional Library

Read because: I enjoyed the Netflix series.

I hear with my little ear: Podcasts 1-7 December 2024

The Documentary (BBC) The Global Jigsaw: The rebels who retook Aleppo I listened to this as the Assad regime fell in Syria, but the program was actually first broadcast in 2023. It looks at Hayat Tahrir al Sham (HTS), led by Abu Mohammed al Jawlani (although I note that this is his ‘nom de guerre’ and he’s now going by Ahmed al-Sharaa. In 2023 when this was recorded, there was scepticism about his transformation from islamic terrorist to the leader of the ‘Salvation Government’ that he was leading in Idlib province. This government allowed in aid, re-opened schools, shops and churches, and as leader he wanted to appear statesmanlike, trimming his beard and wearing casual clothes, moving around openly in Idlib. Like many, I have been appalled by the repression of the Assad government that is now being fully revealed. Let’s hope that Syria has a better future.

The Rest is History Episode 455 Fall of the Sioux: The Ghost Dance (Part 2) This is all so sad and has so many resonances with Australian Aboriginal history. From their webpage “Following the tragic death of Crazy Horse and the ruthless cessation of the Sioux way of life, the last of the great Native American leaders were gradually picked off or repressed by the U.S. Government. Few though had so pitiful a fate as the once mighty Lakota War Chieftain, Sitting Bull. Having fled to Canada in search of peace from the relentless harrowing of his people, Sitting Bull finally returned and arrived at the Standing Rock Reservation in 1883. He was unprepared, however, for the changes wrought upon his people. With the explosion of railroads and the decimation of the already flailing buffalo populations, the Great Plains had been transformed into a desolate, barbed wasteland. While, the Native Americans within the reservations were increasingly coerced into Christianity by missionaries, or controlled by Federal agents. Then, news reached Sitting Bull and his people of a messianic figure from beyond the Rocky Mountains, who would come to liberate them from their plight. With him he brought the answer to their troubles: the Ghost Dance. Would it see the drums of war sound once more?” When Sitting Bull returned to Standing Rock, everything had changed. He joined the Buffalo Bill tour, and the restaging of Custer’s last Battle. Then we have the ‘second coming’ narrative of spiritual leader Wovoka, whose Ghost Dance, if performed properly would reunite the living with spirits of the dead, bring the spirits to fight on their behalf, ending Westward expansion and bring peace and prosperity. This is not going to end well.

History Extra A Victorian Cult: Inside the Strange World of the Agapemone I tend to think of cults today as being an American phenomenon, but especially during the 19th century, Britain had its fair share too. The Agapemone (originally called the Princites), named for Henry James Prince, who believed that he had a direct line of communication with the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit told him to establish himself in Somerset, in a house purchased from the ‘donations’ of his wealthy, mainly female followers in 1856. Those who could not afford to donate their money donated their labour instead, working in the kitchen. There they were to wait for the second coming, and as they were already saved, then they weren’t going to die- which became a bit embarrassing when they DID start dying off- but no matter, because John Hugh Smyth-Pigott quickly took his place, as cult leaders tend to do. The commune limped on until the 1960s when it had become a type of old-people’s home. The episode features Stuart Flinders, the author of A Very British Cult: Rogue Priests and the Abode of Love (Icon Books, 2024).

My Brilliant Career The Musical

We went to see this just before Christmas. It was wonderful. Such talented actors: singing, dancing AND playing instruments. Even a cellist, walking around with his cello strapped to his front like a low slung piano accordian. Strong Australian accents, strong Australian story: I felt so proud.