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The Wandering Womb: Essays in Search of Home
Even as a fourth-generation Jewish Texan, S. L. Wisenberg has always felt the ghost of Europe dogging her steps, making her feel uneasy in her body and in the world. At age six, she’s sure that she hears Nazis at her bedroom window and knows that after they take her away, she’ll die without her asthma meds. In her late twenties, she infiltrates sorority rush at her alma mater, curious about whether she’ll get a bid now. Later in life, she makes her first and only trip to the mikvah while healing from a breast biopsy (benign this time), prompting an exploration of misogyny, shame, and woman-fear in rabbinical tradition. With wit, verve, blood, scars, and a solid dose of self-deprecation, Wisenberg wanders across the expanse of continents and combs through history books and family records in her search for home and meaning. Her travels take her from Selma, Alabama, where her Eastern European Jewish ancestors once settled, to Vienna, where she tours Freud’s home and figures out what women really want, and she visits Auschwitz, which—disappointingly—leaves no emotional mark.
- GenresEssaysMemoirNonfiction
248 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2023
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Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews
April 7, 2023
I adored this essay collection and I want all my Jewish women friends to read it. Each essay offers up rich, evocative prose — sparse, expertly constructed sentences — that cut to the heart of sublime observations on growing up Jewish in Houston and traveling the world, always in search of home. I love how these essays fearlessly traverse the blood, sweat and tears of a Jewish woman's experience — from the very real need for a clean wastebasket to deal with our periods in a guest's apartment to the very real struggle with asthma that required her to lug around a breathing machine throughout her life, these essays unapologetically address the absurdities and pleasures of the female body and a Jewish consciousness. There are so many details in here that felt warmly familiar to me even though we grew up worlds and at least a decade a part: Her descriptions of the social dynamics of Hebrew school; the sturdiness of her grandmother's presence ("she was not cuddly but she was friendly"; surreal connections to gray-slate Russia in the diaspora imagination; epic notes on the Jewish camp experience (and Jewish relationships to nature); the Jewish obsession with the Holocaust (the Enya tape!); the layered experience of visiting a mikvah; the complications of race as a Jewish person growing up in the South; I could go on and on. It's deeply meaningful as a Jewish woman and also a writer to read these words and recognize myself in the stories. One of the more audacious essays that seriously put me on edge was "Spy in the House of Girls," about going undercover to learn more about sorority girls' lives at Northwestern. It was a bold move and something I could never imagine doing without intense fear of getting caught. But the essay was told with such hilarity and matter-of-factness that it just made me smile the whole way through, wondering what was going to happen. It was also a great way to explore general ideas about identity, femininity, desirability, and attractiveness as told through the lens of these "magical, closed worlds."
One of the more heartbreaking essays for me was "Separate Vacations," about the loneliness of travel, even when you're traveling with others. I love how in just a few pages, the essay encapsulates the insanity of colliding worlds and expectations as the writer and a partner visit Costa Rica, and end up having two diametrically opposed experiences there. Some of the essays here were laugh out loud to me, like "Exercising the Past," in which she directly addresses her female ancestors who would probably wonder why women are huffing and puffing in a room together. And I loved reading about her experiences in South Florida as a newsroom reporter during a time in her life when she was exploring the boundaries of feminism, including an exploration of her own sexuality. Dipping backward and forward through time and space, Sandi Wisenberg takes us on a fascinating rollercoaster of a search for home, relentlessly hooking onto essential details that help ground fleeting thoughts and feelings that arise out of the muck of discovering oneself. These essays as a collection are witty and imaginative, hilarious and heartbreaking, soulful and effervescent, rooted and also, at times, wildly transient. I truly appreciated each one but also find them all to be immensely powerful as a collection — validating and elevating the Jewish experience — kvetch and complaint and all. There's suffering here, but there's also laughter, there's longing, there's also connection. There's isolation but there's also community — a net cast wide to gather the Jewish experience everywhere, for everyone, and all at once. As I write my way through my own essay collection, reading this has given me the courage and insight to keep going. It's arduous to write such a sharp, concise collection that expertly weaves the personal with the political, but Sandi L. Wisenberg makes it look easy. Highly recommend this book to anyone who appreciates humor, travel, coming-of-age, and Jewish women. Love, loved, loved this!
One of the more heartbreaking essays for me was "Separate Vacations," about the loneliness of travel, even when you're traveling with others. I love how in just a few pages, the essay encapsulates the insanity of colliding worlds and expectations as the writer and a partner visit Costa Rica, and end up having two diametrically opposed experiences there. Some of the essays here were laugh out loud to me, like "Exercising the Past," in which she directly addresses her female ancestors who would probably wonder why women are huffing and puffing in a room together. And I loved reading about her experiences in South Florida as a newsroom reporter during a time in her life when she was exploring the boundaries of feminism, including an exploration of her own sexuality. Dipping backward and forward through time and space, Sandi Wisenberg takes us on a fascinating rollercoaster of a search for home, relentlessly hooking onto essential details that help ground fleeting thoughts and feelings that arise out of the muck of discovering oneself. These essays as a collection are witty and imaginative, hilarious and heartbreaking, soulful and effervescent, rooted and also, at times, wildly transient. I truly appreciated each one but also find them all to be immensely powerful as a collection — validating and elevating the Jewish experience — kvetch and complaint and all. There's suffering here, but there's also laughter, there's longing, there's also connection. There's isolation but there's also community — a net cast wide to gather the Jewish experience everywhere, for everyone, and all at once. As I write my way through my own essay collection, reading this has given me the courage and insight to keep going. It's arduous to write such a sharp, concise collection that expertly weaves the personal with the political, but Sandi L. Wisenberg makes it look easy. Highly recommend this book to anyone who appreciates humor, travel, coming-of-age, and Jewish women. Love, loved, loved this!
collection-read-in-part
August 4, 2023Heard this author present and was intrigued; asked my library to purchase a copy, and they did! But I barely got to dip in before time to return.
The book is funny, ironic, and outspoken. I'd like to check it out again and enjoy reading it with somebody else so we could talk as we go.
The book is funny, ironic, and outspoken. I'd like to check it out again and enjoy reading it with somebody else so we could talk as we go.
June 19, 2023
The Wandering Womb: Essays in Search of a Home, by S.L. Wisenberg totally engaged me. She uses an assortment of styles so each essay is a gem. A journalist and a teacher she is a skilled writer. I met her at an offsite workshop and reading at AWP in Seattle, her brief writing workshop was excellent and inspiring. Her book was fresh off the press and I was glad to get a copy.
In my favorite essay, Up Against It, she starts sentences/sections with "Because I...." One of these sections: "Because I was in the right. But did it for the wrong reason—for revenge. You should not do anything for revenge unless you have power. I thought smartness or cleverness was the same as power. Power is more powerful. Which everyone knew but me." This chapter led me to a long free write and to ask her (on Facebook) what the prompt was for this essay. She said she thought it was from a poem by Susan Donnelly, "Why Can't I."
In this book she delves into the shame she carries as a woman, and as a Jewish woman. In the first chapter, Female Protection, she is out in the world traveling, she meets a man named Stephen in Istanbul, and not till after he leaves did she realize how he was a protection, then when they meet up again years later in Vienna she wants to study Jewish history but feels shame to do this when there is so much to see, so much he wants to show her in his city. She is having her period and feeling the shame of her blood and Jewishness. This is the lead in to the chapter the book is named for.
She explores her Jewish history and heritage, her family, her womanhood. In the chapter, Mikva: That Which Will Not Stay Submerged, she writes, “After a woman gives birth to a boy, she is unclean for seven days. After the birth of girl, for fourteen. One theory: An infant girl could have a uterine discharge, and if so, her mother would become inpure because of it. This theory, in my opinion, smacks of apologia; it does not hold water. I get angry whenever I think about these rabbis making pronouncements now and throughout the ages—they don’t care about me or my ideas; they care about the tradition, and I am an affront to theirs (which is mine). And they are an affront to mine. Mine has less behind it than theirs, admittedly. It may not even exist.” Whew. Power. She is a childless woman. In this chapter she recounts a piece of history, quoting performance artist Carolee Schneeman, (not Jewish) who naked on stage pulls a scroll from her vagina and reads the text on ‘vulvic space’ …The Inquisition was about souls. Jews could change the souls inside their body—send Jewish souls underground, declare themselves Christians. I’ve heard that Spanish inquisitors tested the Jewish soul by offering the body a mix of train food—shrimp and clams and squid and pork, which they mixed with saffron rice and called paella; it became a national dish.
She grew up in Houston so there is a lot of interesting information about the Jewish populations in Texas, later she lived in Boston. Near the end she has a chapter titled, “A Traveler’s Lexicon,” that goes through a variety of topics: Unexpected pleasures, Ennui, Hype, Karma, Guilt, Making history concrete, Taking pictures.
Plain and simple, I love this book. She has chapters that recount her body and medical experiences. At the end there is a list of resources for Menstrual Equity, Asthma, and Breast Cancer. She has a chapter on the year she tried being a lesbian. A chapter on the time she was out of school and working but tried to get into a sorority. It’s funny, educational, wise, and filled with good references. I want to read more of her writing.
In my favorite essay, Up Against It, she starts sentences/sections with "Because I...." One of these sections: "Because I was in the right. But did it for the wrong reason—for revenge. You should not do anything for revenge unless you have power. I thought smartness or cleverness was the same as power. Power is more powerful. Which everyone knew but me." This chapter led me to a long free write and to ask her (on Facebook) what the prompt was for this essay. She said she thought it was from a poem by Susan Donnelly, "Why Can't I."
In this book she delves into the shame she carries as a woman, and as a Jewish woman. In the first chapter, Female Protection, she is out in the world traveling, she meets a man named Stephen in Istanbul, and not till after he leaves did she realize how he was a protection, then when they meet up again years later in Vienna she wants to study Jewish history but feels shame to do this when there is so much to see, so much he wants to show her in his city. She is having her period and feeling the shame of her blood and Jewishness. This is the lead in to the chapter the book is named for.
She explores her Jewish history and heritage, her family, her womanhood. In the chapter, Mikva: That Which Will Not Stay Submerged, she writes, “After a woman gives birth to a boy, she is unclean for seven days. After the birth of girl, for fourteen. One theory: An infant girl could have a uterine discharge, and if so, her mother would become inpure because of it. This theory, in my opinion, smacks of apologia; it does not hold water. I get angry whenever I think about these rabbis making pronouncements now and throughout the ages—they don’t care about me or my ideas; they care about the tradition, and I am an affront to theirs (which is mine). And they are an affront to mine. Mine has less behind it than theirs, admittedly. It may not even exist.” Whew. Power. She is a childless woman. In this chapter she recounts a piece of history, quoting performance artist Carolee Schneeman, (not Jewish) who naked on stage pulls a scroll from her vagina and reads the text on ‘vulvic space’ …The Inquisition was about souls. Jews could change the souls inside their body—send Jewish souls underground, declare themselves Christians. I’ve heard that Spanish inquisitors tested the Jewish soul by offering the body a mix of train food—shrimp and clams and squid and pork, which they mixed with saffron rice and called paella; it became a national dish.
She grew up in Houston so there is a lot of interesting information about the Jewish populations in Texas, later she lived in Boston. Near the end she has a chapter titled, “A Traveler’s Lexicon,” that goes through a variety of topics: Unexpected pleasures, Ennui, Hype, Karma, Guilt, Making history concrete, Taking pictures.
Plain and simple, I love this book. She has chapters that recount her body and medical experiences. At the end there is a list of resources for Menstrual Equity, Asthma, and Breast Cancer. She has a chapter on the year she tried being a lesbian. A chapter on the time she was out of school and working but tried to get into a sorority. It’s funny, educational, wise, and filled with good references. I want to read more of her writing.
March 16, 2023
I can’t give an unbiased review of this since I’ve known Sandi for over 25 years and have reconnected in advance of her coming to visit the university for a reading from it. That said, it’s really something. Even if I didn’t know her, I’d be impressed.
For starters, these are essays in the best sense of the word. I like to say that the drama of the essay is the self discovering itself, and that’s what’s happening throughout this. Sandi starts on a topic – Montaigne style – and chews on it until it reveals something new to her.
There’s more to it even than that impressive accomplishment. While a handful of these are classic essays – the title essay, “Grandmother Russia/Selma,” “Mikvah: That Which Will Not Stay Submerged,” “In Wrocław, Formerly Breslau,” and “The Ambivalence of the One- Breasted Feminist” are all exceptional – Sandi writes in a variety of voices and tones.
Several of these are shorter pieces she wrote for arts newsmagazines, quick funny and insightful one-hitters. They’re all good as well, but they’re good in a different, complementary way.
Add in the striking sense that these are essays from throughout an adulthood of serious essaying – these pieces are written over decades and concern most of the eras of her life – and there’s a dimensionality to the whole. There are different tones and lengths, different eras, and different foci.
That might sound incoherent, but what holds it together is Sandi’s supple interests. She revisits themes throughout: her experiences as a woman, her Jewishness, and her experience living within her own body. Each essay has its own topic, its own life as a sustained inquiry but, within the collection, most feel as if they are echoing or foreshadowing another.
The subtitle here is “Essays in Search of Home.” That works on multiple levels since Sandi explores different places throughout. She has lived across the country, but I think a parallel valence is the sense that she is ever at home in her own thoughts. The world changes around here – in time, place, and topic – but she herself remains a constant in the impulse (and the insightfulness) with which she approaches the work of each essay.
As I say, I’m biased, but the central pleasure here is the experience of riding the current of Sandi’s thoughts. It’s what Montaigne taught us that the essay can do, and he makes it look deceptively easy. It takes skill, though, to do it well.
And here – as I’ve seen her do elsewhere – Sandi does it very well.
For starters, these are essays in the best sense of the word. I like to say that the drama of the essay is the self discovering itself, and that’s what’s happening throughout this. Sandi starts on a topic – Montaigne style – and chews on it until it reveals something new to her.
There’s more to it even than that impressive accomplishment. While a handful of these are classic essays – the title essay, “Grandmother Russia/Selma,” “Mikvah: That Which Will Not Stay Submerged,” “In Wrocław, Formerly Breslau,” and “The Ambivalence of the One- Breasted Feminist” are all exceptional – Sandi writes in a variety of voices and tones.
Several of these are shorter pieces she wrote for arts newsmagazines, quick funny and insightful one-hitters. They’re all good as well, but they’re good in a different, complementary way.
Add in the striking sense that these are essays from throughout an adulthood of serious essaying – these pieces are written over decades and concern most of the eras of her life – and there’s a dimensionality to the whole. There are different tones and lengths, different eras, and different foci.
That might sound incoherent, but what holds it together is Sandi’s supple interests. She revisits themes throughout: her experiences as a woman, her Jewishness, and her experience living within her own body. Each essay has its own topic, its own life as a sustained inquiry but, within the collection, most feel as if they are echoing or foreshadowing another.
The subtitle here is “Essays in Search of Home.” That works on multiple levels since Sandi explores different places throughout. She has lived across the country, but I think a parallel valence is the sense that she is ever at home in her own thoughts. The world changes around here – in time, place, and topic – but she herself remains a constant in the impulse (and the insightfulness) with which she approaches the work of each essay.
As I say, I’m biased, but the central pleasure here is the experience of riding the current of Sandi’s thoughts. It’s what Montaigne taught us that the essay can do, and he makes it look deceptively easy. It takes skill, though, to do it well.
And here – as I’ve seen her do elsewhere – Sandi does it very well.
July 27, 2023
Essays that combine the personal with the political: that would be a good description of S. L. Wisenberg’s “The Wandering Womb: Essays in Search of Home” (University of Massachusetts Press). Her essays serve as an exploration of her identity as a Jew, woman and American. However, she doesn’t limit herself to any one perspective, so her point of view depends on the lense through which she is looking.
See the rest of my review at https://www.thereportergroup.org/past...
See the rest of my review at https://www.thereportergroup.org/past...
December 19, 2023
Hello! This book is fascinating and engrossing for those who are interested in a woman’s perspective that includes the holocaust, asthma, sexuality, relationships, and more. This list makes it sound maybe odd and disjointed, however, this collection of essays in the hands of an author like Wisenberg works! The language and revelations are both worthy.
I’ve written a full review of this book that will show up on the RiverTeeth blog in January, if anyone is interested in more detailed information.
I’ve written a full review of this book that will show up on the RiverTeeth blog in January, if anyone is interested in more detailed information.
April 4, 2023
This is a remarkable collection of deeply personal and thoughtful essays that weave history, feminism, Judaism and glimpses of Wisenberg’s struggle to navigate the world as the asthmatic granddaughter of Ashkenazi Jewish immigrants. I loved every essay, but my favorite was the true story of when she masqueraded as a student and went through sorority rush at age 29. Hysterical.
I was honored to interview the author for the New Books Network - https://newbooksnetwork.com/the-wande...
I was honored to interview the author for the New Books Network - https://newbooksnetwork.com/the-wande...
January 10, 2024
Great stories and relatable experiences about the “little things” in life. Author does a great job explaining scenarios and is very detail oriented. Easy read too. Only negative is a little depressing at times, but again that’s the point for those essays.
February 11, 2024
This is the best memoir I’ve read in quite some time. Such a wide range of topics were covered, from periods and asthma to the Holocaust. Such an interesting read and I learned a lot. 100% would recommend
April 3, 2023
Written over the course of decades, the essays in this rich collection explore the author’s personal history and her experiences as a Jewish woman in the world, from her youth in Houston to her experiences traveling, as a journalist, as a breast cancer survivor, and much more. The best kind of books, IMHO, are those that get us to think deeply, and that is exactly what this astute collection does, along with humor and curiosity. Reading the book, I immediately thought of several friends for whom I’d like to get copies. I look forward to reading more from this author!
July 5, 2023
I am very grateful that the University of Massachusetts Press sent me an early copy of this book in exchange for a review. As soon as I read the blurb for the book, I knew that I needed to read it. I started it as soon as it arrived in my mailbox and finished it just a few hours ago today (which happens to be the book’s official release date!).
The Wandering Womb is a wonderful exploration of the intersection between religion and gender, delving deeply into what it means for Wisenberg, the author, to live in that space. The non-chronological order of the book made this exploration even better for me: It felt almost as if I were thinking along with Wisenberg, chasing memories and trying to connect them to make sense of the writer’s life. I particularly liked the book’s discussion on what it means to try to belong, largely due to being a Jewish woman in the United States, be it by trying to fit into society as a whole or by searching for acceptance in sorority life at a university campus. Finally, I very much enjoyed the book’s discussion of religion and what it means to change it. Specifically, Wisenberg wonders how much of a religion we can change before it stops being that religion and becomes something new altogether.
All in all, if you are looking for an intelligent nonfiction book that explores generational history, identity, religion, and gender, The Wandering Womb is definitely the choice to go with. I will be looking forward to reading more work by this author!
The Wandering Womb is a wonderful exploration of the intersection between religion and gender, delving deeply into what it means for Wisenberg, the author, to live in that space. The non-chronological order of the book made this exploration even better for me: It felt almost as if I were thinking along with Wisenberg, chasing memories and trying to connect them to make sense of the writer’s life. I particularly liked the book’s discussion on what it means to try to belong, largely due to being a Jewish woman in the United States, be it by trying to fit into society as a whole or by searching for acceptance in sorority life at a university campus. Finally, I very much enjoyed the book’s discussion of religion and what it means to change it. Specifically, Wisenberg wonders how much of a religion we can change before it stops being that religion and becomes something new altogether.
All in all, if you are looking for an intelligent nonfiction book that explores generational history, identity, religion, and gender, The Wandering Womb is definitely the choice to go with. I will be looking forward to reading more work by this author!
October 25, 2024
The Wandering Womb: Essays in Search of Home by S.L. Wisenberg is a collection of personal essays that explore themes of identity, belonging, and the quest for a sense of "home." Through a mix of humor, introspection, and cultural commentary, Wisenberg reflects on her experiences as a Jewish woman, touching on topics like family, history, spirituality, and the body. Each essay offers a distinct perspective on what it means to search for a place or feeling of comfort and rootedness in a world that can often feel ungrounded or estranged.
The Wandering Womb didn’t resonate with me as much as I hoped it would. While the essays were thoughtful and had moments of humor and insight, I found it difficult to fully connect with the themes and reflections. The concept of searching for "home" is interesting, but something about the writing or the topics just didn’t quite hit home for me. It was still an intriguing read, but not one that left a lasting impact on me.
The Wandering Womb didn’t resonate with me as much as I hoped it would. While the essays were thoughtful and had moments of humor and insight, I found it difficult to fully connect with the themes and reflections. The concept of searching for "home" is interesting, but something about the writing or the topics just didn’t quite hit home for me. It was still an intriguing read, but not one that left a lasting impact on me.
Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews