How do we measure the moments, the hours, the days, months, seasons and years of our lives? In this issue on the calendar -- which heralds the beginning of spring and the arrival of Pesach -- we explore how cycles of Jewish time are marked and experienced
A new stream of Jewish memoirs seeks to recreate lost worlds.
Asked to name a significant or best-selling Jewish memoir, chances are good that you’d come up with an author like Elie Wiesel, Primo Levi or Victor Frankl. Books by all three show up in a list of Amazon’s best-selling Jewish memoirs. Not incidentally, all three write about the same subject — the Holocaust — which makes sense when you consider that, after the Torah, the most widely read Jewish book in the world is probably Anne Frank’s “Diary of A Young Girl.”
Will Jewish readers—and Jewish culture generally—be transformed by the coming digital reading revolution?
If Jews have become almost synonymous with books — “the People of the Book” moniker is not for nothing — then the looming demise of the printed book might raise alarm bells. After all, if Jewish books were to disappear, or even be fundamentally transformed, wouldn’t you expect Jewish culture to change along with it?
Inside a ‘battlefield of books,’ a rich mosaic of Egyptian Jewish life.
Adina Hoffman and Peter Cole
This April, the Schocken / Nextbook Jewish Encounters series will publish “Sacred Trash: The Lost and Found World of the Cairo Geniza” by Adina Hoffman and Peter Cole, which tells in dynamic fashion the story of the retrieval of what has often been called the greatest discovery of Jewish manuscripts ever made.
Efforts to get Jewish books to Holocaust survivors in Europe
In the spring of 1946, Zalman Grinberg and Josef Rosenzaft, representatives of Jewish Holocaust survivors and Displaced Persons (DPs) in the American and British zones of post-World War II Europe, respectively, visited the United States. “Bread alone is not enough,” they poignantly pleaded to American Jews, “Send us poets, writers and singers to show us that Jewish life is not dead.”
A dedicated reader and bibliophile reflects on pruning her collection.
Rabbi Debra Orenstein
Years ago, I met someone who only owned one book at a time: the book he was reading. When he was finished, he found it a good home and acquired another book. I was fascinated by this discipline. Ever since middle school, I have been in the middle of several books at once. Some books decorate my shelves for years before I read them, but I couldn’t imagine parting with them. Judah Ibn Tibbon, the 12th-century scholar and physician, famously advised his descendants, “Let books be your companions.” I, for one, have taken that advice to heart — perhaps to a fault.
A scholar revisits an 18th-century popular tome—reprinted for centuries—that mixes science, kabbalah and ethics.
‘The Book of Covenant” (Sefer ha-Brit) was one of the most popular Hebrew books read by Jews in the Modern Era, reflected in its 36 editions, including three Yiddish and two Ladino translations. It was first published by a relatively unknown Eastern European Jew named Phinehas Elijah Hurwitz, in Brünn, Moravia in 1797 and then in a much expanded edition in Zolkiev, Galicia, in 1807.
In his subtle translations of the Bible’s Wisdom Books — Proverbs, Ecclesiastes and Job — Robert Alter highlights the canon’s subversive side.
Robert Alter’s ongoing translation of the Hebrew Bible into a new, more accurate and forceful English version is one of the most ambitious literary projects of this or any age. Turning the Bible into Greek, in the second century BCE, required 72 sages — which is why the Greek version is called the Septuagint (after the Latin word for 70) — and the King James Version, in the early 17th century CE, was produced by a committee of 47 Anglican divines.
With newly discovered documents and innovative approaches, how do we decide which Jewish texts and values remain at the core?
One of the curiosities of the world of scholarship is the fixation with the arcane. This is why, somewhat regrettably, the word “academic” finds its kin in the thesaurus with the adjectives “donnish,” “pedantic” and “trivial.” When this is at its worst, it seems like a terrible waste; our universities are the places where young adults go to learn, think and become citizens of the world. If their mentors and role models are only interested in the marginal, what does that portend for how we value ideas?