It's not until one finishes this emotionally riveting first novel by Eishes Chayil (a pseudonym that means "Woman of Valor" in Hebrew) that the genius of its structure becomes fully apparent. The events take a back seat to the internal journeys of nearly all the characters. The first chapter begins in 2009, when Gittel Chava Klein, nearly 18 years old, writes to her best friend, Devory Goldblatt, who died when they were 10: "It is hard to write a letter to the dead. It is easier to talk with you directly, as if we are having a real conversation." Gittel makes a vague reference to the circumstances of Devory's death: "My father is afraid no one will want to marry me. I heard him tell my mother that the shadchan, the community matchmaker, told him that people would be scared to marry their son off to a girl like me after all that had happened."
The second chapter cuts back to 2003, when Gittel is 10, and goes to the heart of her household's connection to the chassidish Jewish community at large: "In my house there was a hat. The hat was made of black fur, and it was tall like my father, round as a pancake, and holy as God." Gittel traces the history of the hat, or shtreimel, back to Poland, and uses it to contrast the differences between the chassidim and the litvish (another Orthodox sect, who wear "the more modern bent-down hats and even ties"). Later, in a harrowing scene, the hat serves to emphasize the tensions between the chassidim and the goyim (non-Jews); the presentation of a hat as a gift to Gittel's groom endows the shtreimel with even greater import. Gittel notes, too, that "Every Friday evening my father would carefully take down the tall hatbox from its sacred place in my parents' bedroom walk-in closet near my mother's $180 Versani shoes."
The charm of Gittel's narration stems from her mix of respect for her community's traditions and the humor that arises from a child trying to make sense of her world. Gittel's parents own a home in Flatbush--just two blocks outside of Brooklyn's Borough Park, the center of the chassidish community. That two-block distance exposes Gittel to ideas and beliefs outside of her tightly knit community, such as a man who lives in the middle of their block whom Gittel calls "the Syrian Who Was a Jew at Heart" (he does not keep Shabbos but told Gittel's mother he was "a Jew at Heart"), as well as the renters on their third floor, Kathy and Leo Prouks, who are Christian. Kathy plays a crucial role in Gittel's coming of age. While Gittel spends the night at Devory's house, she witnesses something she doesn't quite understand. Devory's 15-year-old brother, who is home from yeshiva (school), comes to Devory's room in the dark and goes under his sister's blanket: "I saw the blanket, how it moved back and forth and back and forth so fast I thought they were playing tug-of-war." The novel continues to toggle between the events of 2003 and Gittel's match, her wedding and the early days of her marriage. Gittel begins to understand, as she prepares for her wedding night, what happened to Devory, and her guilt mounts to a breaking point.
The author takes us deep inside a community that, in its attempt to protect its members and traditions, suffers the casualties of those who were forced to remain silent. One of the most chilling moments occurs when three rebbes visit Borough Park, and speak "about the Nazis and how we had triumphed over them but how sometimes the biggest source of destruction could come from within." Because these deeply human characters can acknowledge their flaws and face the truth, they also extend a feeling of optimism for their future and for the community as a whole.--Jennifer M. Brown
+Hush+ by Eishes Chayil (Walker, $16.99, 9780802720887/0802720889, 368 pp., ages 14-up, September 2010)
It's not until one finishes this an emotionally riveting first novel by Eishes Chayil (a pseudonym that means "Woman of Valor" in Hebrew) that the genius of its structure becomes fully apparent. The events take a back seat to the emotional journey of nearly all of the characters. The first chapter begins in 2009, when Gittel Chava Klein, nearly 18 years old, writes to her best friend, Devory Goldblatt, who died when they were 10: "It is hard to write a letter to the dead. It is easier to talk with you directly, as if we are having a real conversation." Gittel makes a vague reference to the circumstances of Devory's death: "My father is afraid no one will want to marry me. I heard him tell my mother that the +shadchan, + the community matchmaker, told him that people would be scared to marry their son off to a girl like me after all that had happened."
The second chapter cuts back to 2003, when Gittel is 10, and goes to the heart of her household's connection to the +chassidish+ Jewish community at large: "In my house there was a hat. The hat was made of black fur, and it was tall like my father, round as a pancake, and holy as God." Gittel traces the history of the hat, or +shtreimel,+ back to Poland, and uses it to contrast the differences between the +chassidim+ and the +litvish+ (another Orthodox sect, who wear "the more modern bent-down hats and even ties"). Later, in a harrowing scene, the hat serves to emphasize the tensions between the +chassidim+ and the +goyim+ (non-Jews); the presentation of a hat as a gift to Gittel's groom endows the +shtreimel+ with even greater import. Gittel notes, too, that "Every Friday evening my father would carefully take down the tall hatbox from its sacred place in my parents' bedroom walk-in closet near my mother's $180 Versani shoes."
The charm of Gittel's narration stems from her mix of respect for her community's traditions and the humor that arises from a child trying to make sense of her world. Gittel's parents own a home in Flatbush--just two blocks outside of Brooklyn's Borough Park, the center of the +chassidish+ community. That two-block distance exposes Gittel to ideas and beliefs outside of her tightly knit community, such as a man who lives in the middle of their block whom Gittel calls "the Syrian Who Was a Jew at Heart" (he does not keep Shabbos but told Gittel's mother he was "a Jew at Heart"), as well as the renters on their third floor, Kathy and Leo Prouks, who are Christian. Kathy plays a crucial role in Gittel's coming of age. While Gittel spends the night at Devory's house, she witnesses something she doesn't quite understand. Devory's 15-year-old brother, who is home from yeshiva (school), comes to Devory's room in the dark and goes under his sister's blanket: "I saw the blanket, how it moved back and forth and back and forth so fast I thought they were playing tug-of-war." The novel continues to toggle between the events of 2003 and Gittel's match, her wedding and the early days of her marriage. Gittel begins to understand, as she prepares for her wedding night, what happened to Devory, and her guilt mounts to a breaking point.
The author takes us deep inside a community that, in its attempt to protect its members and traditions, suffers the casualties of those who were forced to remain silent. One of the most chilling moments occurs when three rebbes visit Borough Park, and speak "about the Nazis and how we had triumphed over them but how sometimes the biggest source of destruction could come from within." Because these deeply human characters can acknowledge their flaws and face the truth, they also extend a feeling of optimism for their future and for the community as a whole.--Jennifer M. Brown