Begun around November 2011 and finished on January 11, 2015:
“Shoot for something you can barely control” – it's a line from Barry Hannah that I cling to in writing, but I’m also beginning to cling to it in reading. It took me over 3 years to read Zornberg – often I could wrestle through only a few pages in one sitting, constantly flipping to the “Notes” section to puzzle over her millions of sources. This book is really explosive in terms of its focus on departure from the ordered world—it’s high brow but pulses really with the nature of life lived in the lap of brokenness—even though it’s highly academic it’s also warm and wondrous and a companion, it seems to me, to a reader whose life is in upheaval.
It’s a very difficult book to sum up – she explores midrashic texts, the undercurrents and murmurs in biblical narratives. The cumulative effect, the world the book creates, the level of thinking and processing it requires in its integration of literary criticism, semiotics, poetry, psychoanalysis, biblical exegesis are all beyond me intellectually, yet, during some sittings with this book, Zornberg created a kind of “rough ground” for my creative work. It’s as if she invites you to write and imagine *into* the fractures of the chapters themselves, much like the way midrashic narratives operate maybe.
Zornberg encourages a stumbling in the mind (she writes, or quotes, somewhere in these 379 pages: “One cannot comprehend [stand upon] words of Torah unless one has stumbled over them”). She pushes you toward becoming nothing (in my favorite chapter on Esther), toward learning from the “unchosen bride” in Leah, toward seeing fire/loss as transfigurative in the Isaac & Abraham narrative, and always toward what is foreign inside us that resists easy closure of a messy narrative (esp. in the wonderful last chapter on the Book of Ruth).
PP 238-9: She discusses midrash as plough: a plough “turns over the sods of earth to create a newly fertile surface. The …plough tears open, enters darkness to bring to light something that had been buried…" 238: She writes: “The turning plough offers Osip Mandelstam a metaphor for the way poetry can penetrate the past:'Poetry is the plough tearing open and turning over time so that the deep layers of it, its rich black undersoil, ends up on the surface…Mankind…craves, like a ploughman, for the virgin soil of time.'"
I found the whole reading process with this book generative for my thinking and writing because of how she keeps turning and turning the familiar biblical narratives.
During some of these 3 years of dipping into this book, I was working on a piece exploring the biblical character Rizpah, a concubine of Saul who stood guard for 7 months by the bodies of her executed sons, fending off buzzard & beast. Zornberg led me into imagery of rain and dew that I tried to explore in my piece on Rizpah, which is really a meditation on grief & renewal – I am still trying to unpack her wonderful imagery and synthesis. This imagery serves as a great example of what she does throughout the book, again and again, offering genuine surprise, for me at least:
She quotes Shem Mi-Shmuel, a 19th century Hasidic master, on the image of dew: “dew rests for a moment on the grass and vanishes, evaporates. In that moment, however, it ‘arouses the inner moisture of the grass’—unlike rain, for instance, which moistens the earth and remains absorbed by it. The contrast between dew and rain he finds in the Talmud:
…“And let us know, eagerly strive to know God. His going forth is sure as the morning; and He shall come to us as the rain” (Hosea 6.3)…
“I will be as dew to Israel” (Hosea 14.6).
One verse in Hosea gives the human request for God-as-rain; another gives God’s offer of God-as-dew. God models a different sensibility of relationship. In the reading of Shem Mi-Shmuel, rain penetrates, implants itself; if God relates to Israel in this way, nothing will emerge machamat atzmam—from them, spontaneously. Dew, on the other hand, delicately touches, awakens inner vitality, and disappears. To know God as dew is to respond to a hint, like perfume; a word or two is sometimes enough. It is to respond unconsciously.”
I also pulled out a kind of scaffold of epigraphs for my work with Rizpah, and it was also a scaffold for those few years of extreme transition in my life; most of the lines are works quoted by Zornberg and they give a sense of the interdisciplinarity of the book; of course you're missing the wonderful webbing she provides around the quotations in her work, but, even so, I will share them here:
“In this spiritual process, writes William James, ‘something must give way, a native hardness must break down and liquefy.’”
Buber in Zornberg 130: “calls the prophetic moment the one when ‘the customary soul enlarges and transfigures itself into the surprise soul…the unique being, man, is created to be a center of surprise in the universe.’”
“If you know too well how to do something, you will be less likely to fall into originality.” – Adam Phillips
“Back to the rough ground! Look and see!” – Wittgenstein
Zornberg 120, speaking of Esther, speaking of Mordecai’s sensitivity to hints: “a hint is sufficient for the wise. A word is sometimes sufficient basis for a castle in the air…one experiences [a hint] as an intimate call, its very subtlety inspiring imagination.”
And Zornberg quotes Henry James on the artist: “A kind of huge spider web of the finest silken threads suspended in the chamber of consciousness, and catching every airborne particle in its tissue…it takes to itself the faintest hints of life, it converts the very pulses of the air into revelations.”
Zornberg 127, quoting José Ortega: “And this is the simple truth—that to live is to feel oneself lost—he who accepts it has already begun to find himself, to be on firm ground. Instinctively, as do the shipwrecked, he will look round for something to which to cling, and that tragic, ruthless glance, absolutely sincere, because it is a question of his salvation, will cause him to bring order to the chaos of his life. These are the only genuine ideas; the ideas of the shipwrecked.”