Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Pure Potokian Pleasure!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


                                   Reading Chaim Potok is comforting and soothing. One wants to be next to a table, with a cup of steaming hot tea, while taking in every delicious word he writes.

                                    But his novels also stimulate the mind and heart. When I first read "The Chosen," when I was in eighth grade, I was ready to convert to Judaism,and spend my days studying the Talmud.  My parents (I was raised Catholic!) were fit to be tied!  And every rereading of this work, which I indulge myself in periodically, still induces that reaction.

                                       Which brings me to "My Name Is Asher Lev."  I had no real intention of rereading it, but when a copy was left on a table at my beloved's workplace, I thought, "Why not?"

                                           Anyone who is struggling with artistic impulse and desire versus familial conflict--be it painting, music, writing, or film making--should read this book, which examines hard choices made by both sides of the spectrum.  Though I will say this, the last sentence, which saddened me on my first reading many years ago, suggests that, while Asher and his parents may know a physical estrangement, between them, there is still a kind of binding love.

                                             Potok brilliantly examines the choices artists make, and the prices they pay, and must be willing to pay, for those choices.  It is the best written novel on this theme that I can think of recommending to everyone, regardless of faith.

                                                The paperback edition that I read, which had the above cover, touted the book as having been "6 Months On The New York Times Best Seller List."  How sadly times have changed.
That was over forty years ago!!!!!!!!!!!  Today, this would never get on the list; not with trash like Weiner and Picoult!  Even prestige junk like "The Arrangement" by Elia Kazan (yes, dears, THAT Kazan!!!!!!!) would never make it today!

                                                 So, read Potok, and return to a time when literature was regarded as literature, unlike much of the crap that is thought of as such, today!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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