The audiobook narrator really brings these books to life for me. If I were reading the print versions I don’t think I would enjoy them as much. Each couple books switches protagonists, and the protagonist in this and the previous book was probably least enjoyable for me. But this series is pretty immersive and fast-paced. It’s been one of my top choices for escapist reading, but I’m running out of books in the series!
This is an informative and harrowing account of the October 7 massacre, written by a survivor of the attack on Nahal Oz, with alternating chapters providing sociohistorical context for the kibbutz Nahal Oz and the conflict with Gaza. The author, Amir Tibon, recounts how he, his wife, and their two toddlers survived, and to create a more complete picture, he combines his own account with firsthand testimony from other survivors in Nahal Oz and participants in its defense, including his parents who drove into the massacre to save their family. His account not only conveys the facts and timelines of events, but the terror and sense of abandonment felt by Israelis in the border region. The massacre took place in 2023, but the trauma is ongoing, with families still displaced and hostages still held by terrorists in horrific conditions. Tibon lost friends, neighbors, and community on that day, and this book honors their memory. He writes with clarity, empathy, and a depth of knowledge that make this book an important resource for anyone seeking to better understand the horrific events of October 7.
I feel fairly neutral about this book. The concept is worthy, and I support efforts to promote Jewish literacy and engagement. And though I often disagreed with her interpretations of the holidays, her perspective on them is certainly valid. Her year is a very US-centric and economically privileged year. Yet, the rabbis she interviews and quotes can serve as a starting point or reading list for delving deeper, so even if her own experiences don’t resonate, the book could be useful if you can look past its limitations.
The biggest drawback for me was the tone. Meant to be accessible, to me it was off-putting. Some of it is cute, if trite, like “Try Judaism - the same is always new.” Some is just plain cringeworthy. Rabbi Steinsaltz is “The Beyoncé of Talmud”?! And Eliyahu is a “macho prophet”?! What is a macho prophet, anyway? And perhaps some of my discomfort with the book comes from the audiobook narration. Hebrew pronunciation and intonation was often odd or just plain wrong. And I wonder, who pronounces “G-d” “gee dash dee?”
These issues notwithstanding, I appreciated her overall framing of the holidays into an interconnected annual cycle, rather than a random disconnected jumble. “No holiday stands alone. All are intertwined… Jews need to view several holidays at once to understand the one we’re in.” And I liked that she drew attention to the meaningfulness of repetition within the yearly cycle, and from year to year. “Memory itself is recurrence... Repetition is starting to feel resonant to me. It creates a rhythm. Each repeated ritual is an affirmation that we’re Jewish… the echo of our ancestors in these rites informs the moment we do them today.” I also like how she describes Judaism as demanding a “a leap of action”: “First you do… then you’ll understand the meaning.”
There were some interesting bits of trivia. Like how the guide for learning to blow a shofar suggested practicing blowing water out of your mouth to a distance of four feet. Cleanup after this exercise would get a bit tiresome!
Antisemitism was on the rise when the author wrote this book, and in the ten years since its publication, it has increased dramatically. She wrote in the shadow of the 2014 Gaza war. As bad as things were then, it made me nostalgic for less grief-laden times. I was struck by how different Simchat Torah 2014 was from 2024. Now every discussion of that holiday will need to make space for the heartache of October 7.
A book like this is bound to have omissions. Some are quite glaring. For example, Rosh Chodesh is omitted entirely. Little sense is given of how the parsha cycle lines up with the rhythm of Shabbats and of the year.
I often disagreed with her, though I think her interpretations are probably fairly common. Her analysis of Chanukah was overly simplistic even for an overview book like this. It seems the Jews she talks to in this book who consider themselves “assimilated” into dominant American culture (remember, this book is completely US-centric) feel a kinship the Hellenized Jews who were willing to offer sacrifices to Greek gods and abandon circumcision. As if Jews would have endured as Jews for long if they had not rebelled against the outlawing of their way of life. Resisting Antiochus’ rule was not merely being anti “assimilation,” it was defending the ability of Jews do all the things that make Jews Jews. Why be squeamish about standing up against explicit cultural genocide?
Similarly in the Purim chapter, I thought her interpretation of the conclusion of the Megillah was tendentious. She describes the Jewish victory as “the wholesale slaughter of non-Jews,” but in fact a plain reading of the text supports the idea that the Jews acted in self-defense. The king could not revoke his earlier edict against the Jews, but he did grant Jews the right to defend themselves against any who attacked them.
A disorganized summary of some other issues I had with the book: Calling terror victims like Marla Bennett, murdered in an attack in the Second Intifada in 2002, “accidental soldiers” is wrong. She was killed in the war against Israel, but as a student and a civilian. Terror victims don’t need to be posthumously conscripted in order to be remembered on Yom Hazikaron.
The author equates “halachic Judaism” and the Orthodox movements, and ignores the fact that the Conservative movement is halachic.
The author suggests that Shabbat doesn’t resonate with a lot of Jews because it is a “Creationist” holiday. This is a straw man argument - nowhere does Shabbat observance require creationist thinking. In order to conceive of it in those terms, you have to first accept a Christian hegemonic interpretation of Bereshit. Judaism contains many interpretations: One day could be one cosmic eon. The Torah is always richer than what one translation or Christian-influenced interpretation can convey.
Finally, the concept of “original sin” is not Jewish but it is natural to be affected the hegemony of Christian ideas. I would avoid its use in an overview of Jewish holidays and I would only use the phrase after thoroughly discussing it in a Jewish context.
An early reader graphic novel, translated into Spanish. The artist, Liniers, created this as part of a series dedicated to his daughters. I began thinking it would be about plane crashes and grief, but it is actually not so heavy of a story. The art is nice enough, but the story didn’t do too much for me. It was sweet, but I think I need more substance/length in a story to get emotionally involved. However, it was the perfect choice for easing back into reading Spanish.
A charming book. The story is simple, light, and joyous. The art sets the perfect tone, with the adorable dragon Nerry stealing the show. The magic of imagination is more the focus than the traditions of Chanukah, but major aspects of the holiday are included in a lighthearted sort of way. There aren’t that many Chanukah picture books that purely focus on the fun. This is one of them, and it does so delightfully.
Overall I like it, despite the fact that it is very much a reflection of its time in terms of misogyny and gender roles. I like the rabbi and his approach. I wouldn’t mind going to his shul (updated to the Conservative movement of the present day rather than the 1960s). The most entertaining part of the book was the small town shul politics rather than the mystery itself. Unusually for me, I correctly figured out the culprit about halfway through. I don’t know if I just got lucky, or the plot construction lacked subtlety. It’s nice that there is a series of classic-style mysteries featuring a rabbi sleuth.
This might be my favorite of the Wayward Children books so far. Perhaps I am l getting used to this world and the writing style. Or perhaps it says something about my personality. The portal world seemed the least developed of all - what is there apart from the goblin market and constantly working off or trying to avoid debts? Like, what would be interesting enough to keep someone there? We never really got to see any of it. The narrative cut away from most of the action, and we got very little sense of what life was like for Lundy in that world, apart from the delicate dance of debt. Still, I enjoyed the story more than the others, and I look forward to the rest.
A heartfelt story of a girl’s journey to embrace both her Muscogee and Jewish identity. I thought it was well done, the situations maybe a little contrived to get the message across, but the message is an important one. I don’t appreciate the author referring to the Torah as the “Old Testament” in the note at the end. Also, I wasn’t sure what the purpose was of highlighting the protagonist’s father’s Christian services, and her repeated interest in attending. He puts her off, but leaves it open as a possibility for the future.
I appreciated the portrayal of the adults in the protagonist’s life - being loving doesn’t mean not flawed, and flawed doesn’t mean bad. People own up to their mistakes, and try to do better. All in all, this is a well-crafted book about embracing who you are in its full and beautiful complexity, and not letting anyone, even loved ones, put you in their preassigned boxes. Highly recommended.
This book has Diana Wynne Jones’ signature style - witty, lighthearted stories that often turn common fantasy conventions on their head. The one fell a bit flat for me, sadly. The worst part was the fatphobia, which wasn’t just an aside but an elaborated and recurring theme. In general, the portrayal of women was disappointing. Their worth is tied to their looks and desirability or usefulness to men. Diana Wynne Jones should know better. There was also casual mention of cruelty against cats; it is jarring in a story like this. The author obviously loves and knows cats well, and no harm befell any cat in the actual narrative. The book relied on Orientalizing stereotypes from an Aladdin-esque Arabian setting. So far this is my least favorite of her stories.
My primary question for this book is if it is effective. Will anyone read it with an open mind and come away more educated and less bigoted against Jews? The collaborative nature of this book, how Acho took the initiative to reach out to Tishby, and how they worked through difficulties in their collaboration, gives me hope. Acho approaches his questions from a place of empathy and openness, which I found compelling. Tishby, by profession, is an effective communicator and manages to condense a lot of important information into digestible kernels. I cannot read this book with an outsider’s perspective to know if it can accomplish its goals. But it is a much needed project. On the whole, this is a good book to recommend to people who express genuine interest in understanding antisemitism as Jews experience it today. I imagine the book’s success will depend on how deeply ingrained antisemitic thought patterns are in the reader’s mind. I am not optimistic.
A few highlights that I hope more people will think about:
“If you find yourself on the same side of an argument as David Duke, the Iranian government, and ISIS, then I think you ought to reflect on how you got there in the first place.”
“Hamas is not acting as the Palestinian people’s bodyguard. In fact, it is exactly the other way around. Hamas uses the Palestinian people as their bodyguards when they attack Israeli civilians and then embed themselves in the Palestinian civilian population.”
And Tishby has a straightforward guide for people to tell if their criticism of Israel is antisemitic: Is your criticism an indictment of all Jews? Does it capitalize on antisemitic stereotypes? Or does it lay blame for an entire issue solely on Israel?
If the answer to any of those questions is yes, then indeed it is antisemitic. It is, in fact, easy to criticize Israel without being antisemitic. Vast numbers of Jews, including and perhaps especially Israelis, do so all the time.
One thing that the authors don’t confront is how deeply antisemitism is embedded in the Christian hegemonic culture. Things that don’t appear antisemitic are, and impact matters more than intention. But the non-Jewish world is not ready for that conversation, if it ever will be.