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Mitzvah Girls: Bringing Up the Next Generation of Hasidic Jews in Brooklyn
Mitzvah Girls is the first book about bringing up Hasidic Jewish girls in North America, providing an in-depth look into a closed community. Ayala Fader examines language, gender, and the body from infancy to adulthood, showing how Hasidic girls in Brooklyn become women responsible for rearing the next generation of nonliberal Jewish believers. To uncover how girls learn the practices of Hasidic Judaism, Fader looks beyond the synagogue to everyday talk in the context of homes, classrooms, and city streets.
Hasidic women complicate stereotypes of nonliberal religious women by collapsing distinctions between the religious and the secular. In this innovative book, Fader demonstrates that contemporary Hasidic femininity requires women and girls to engage with the secular world around them, protecting Hasidic men and boys who study the Torah. Even as Hasidic religious observance has become more stringent, Hasidic girls have unexpectedly become more fluent in secular modernity. They are fluent Yiddish speakers but switch to English as they grow older; they are increasingly modest but also fashionable; they read fiction and play games like those of mainstream American children but theirs have Orthodox Jewish messages; and they attend private Hasidic schools that freely adapt from North American public and parochial models. Investigating how Hasidic women and girls conceptualize the religious, the secular, and the modern, Mitzvah Girls offers exciting new insights into cultural production and change in nonliberal religious communities.
Hasidic women complicate stereotypes of nonliberal religious women by collapsing distinctions between the religious and the secular. In this innovative book, Fader demonstrates that contemporary Hasidic femininity requires women and girls to engage with the secular world around them, protecting Hasidic men and boys who study the Torah. Even as Hasidic religious observance has become more stringent, Hasidic girls have unexpectedly become more fluent in secular modernity. They are fluent Yiddish speakers but switch to English as they grow older; they are increasingly modest but also fashionable; they read fiction and play games like those of mainstream American children but theirs have Orthodox Jewish messages; and they attend private Hasidic schools that freely adapt from North American public and parochial models. Investigating how Hasidic women and girls conceptualize the religious, the secular, and the modern, Mitzvah Girls offers exciting new insights into cultural production and change in nonliberal religious communities.
280 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2009
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Displaying 1 - 22 of 22 reviews
February 20, 2011
This review will probably end up being edited once my husband reads the book and hashes it out with me but in the meantime, here are my first impressions.
Ethnographic studies of Orthodox Jewish women are one of my favorite sub-genres. Can an academic researcher really "get" the world I belong to, I always wonder. I don't know if a researcher can ever attain the insight of an insider, but certainly some come closer than others. In "Mitzvah Girls," while I think Ayala Fader got some things, I think she may have missed the boat on others. It's hard to judge the book, though, because while "Mitzvah Girls" is pretty heavy on technical details and descriptions, I had a hard time understanding what conclusions Fader drew, if any, and how the whole book actually hung together (if indeed it did).
Fader, a secular Jew, spent a great deal of time observing Boro Park Hasidic women and girls in their homes, at school, and at various activities and events. She describes her time spent in Boro Park as "constraining and stifling," adding that she "often breathed a sigh of relief as the subway crossed the Manhattan bridge" on her way home (p. 19) although she also notes that she developed close relationships with some of the families. Fader focuses on the socialization of Hasidic girls from an early age to "fit in" (i.e., with Hasidic social and cultural norms), to fear being like Gentiles, and to mold their curiosity according to a prescribed set of expectations. She devotes a great deal of detail to linguistic idiosyncrasies evident in "Hasidic English" and how the use of language reflects Hasidic girls' desire to sound (and present oneself as) "with it" (i.e., selectively aware of aspects of secular culture) but not "modern" [i.e., overly secular and/or religiously lax]. Finally, Fader discusses laws pertaining to the body such as those governing female modesty and attire and the laws of family purity which regulate the marital relationship. She also charts the system of categories for families involved in matchmaking (e.g., Rebish, Rabunish, Shayne, Balebatish) and describes the matchmaking process.
Although I am Orthodox, I am not Hasidic and have not spent extensive time with Hasidic populations in Boro Park or anywhere else. As such, I can't say for certain whether, and to what degree, Fader described the culture accurately. Nothing struck me as glaringly inaccurate, although I found some of her translations from Hebrew and Yiddish imprecise and wondered whether she had them, or much else in the book, checked by a Hasidic or even simply Orthodox person. She did mention that some of her interviewees read parts of the book and requested that selected material be omitted; Fader respected some requests and overrode others.
Something about "Mitzvah Girls" bothered me, and I'm still in the process of trying to figure out what it was. Somehow I felt that Tamar El-Or's "Educated and Ignorant," the most obvious comparison to this book (an ethnography of Gur Hasidic women living in Israel written by a secular Israeli), was superior. "Educated and Ignorant," though also highly technical, was much more focused and I finished it with a stronger sense of what the book was about and what it told me. Here, I'm still groping. There was a lot of detail but what was the point, exactly? I didn't get a sense of an overarching thesis or cohesiveness to "Mitzvah Girls."
Second, Tamar El-Or addresses some of the same issues Fader does in terms of the need to blend into the community and to respect community norms. El-Or, though, appears to relate to this in a more positive way. When she introduces herself to one of her Hasidic observees El-Or says: "You know, with the secular there's a feeling that they haven't been very successful with education, that what they want to pass on to the next generation doesn't always get there. And when they look at you, at least from the outside, it seems as if you don't have any problem of that sort" (p. 5). These words, which El-Or appears to mean sincerely, express a genuine openness to the positive aspects of Hasidic education. Fader, in contrast, appears more jaundiced with regard to intergenerational transmission in the Hasidic community, painting it as a kind of totalitarian "Big brother" environment. "Parents and teachers work together to monitor, report on, and evaluate children's behavior in terms of moral and scholastic development...Teachers extend their moral and educational influence into homes, as they send home behavior charts that parents must sign and grade...Parents, in turn, extend their influence into the classroom by writing their children mitsve-tsetlekh 'good deed notes'...Using charts and prizes, teachers and mothers help create the desire for children to fit in to what is expected..." (pp. 52-53).
El-Or describes the changes within herself as she spent more time with her Hasidic subjects: "...I learned to move my body in a special way, to change my resolute tone of voice, and to remain silent a great deal" (p. 5) and "I developed a strong antipathy to deliberately exposing private matters, such as the relations between wife and husband and between women and their bodies" (p. 7). El-Or appears open and receptive to this experience. Agreeing to dress modestly out of respect for community norms, El-Or tells one woman, "For me this is a great opportunity...Yes, of course I'll dress the way I should" (p. 6). Although Fader accepts the same commitment, she appears more ambivalent about it. "I felt it was my responsibility (as well as in my research interests) to conform as best as I could to the practices I was attempting to understand. Perhaps it was my efforts to offend no one that made my time in Boro Park feel constraining and stifling" (p. 19). Neither El-Or nor Fader ended up adopting religious beliefs or practices as a result of their experiences, but El-Or appeared more open to seeing the positive aspects of the Hasidic lifestyle even as she retained her secular principles.
I can't fault Fader for her meticulous research or attention to detail. I might argue, though, that the book suffered as a result of her judgment toward the population. And maybe my layman's perspective is limiting me here, but I'm still not sure what the overarching thesis of "Mitzvah Girls" was and, as such, can't really feel one way or the other toward it.
Ethnographic studies of Orthodox Jewish women are one of my favorite sub-genres. Can an academic researcher really "get" the world I belong to, I always wonder. I don't know if a researcher can ever attain the insight of an insider, but certainly some come closer than others. In "Mitzvah Girls," while I think Ayala Fader got some things, I think she may have missed the boat on others. It's hard to judge the book, though, because while "Mitzvah Girls" is pretty heavy on technical details and descriptions, I had a hard time understanding what conclusions Fader drew, if any, and how the whole book actually hung together (if indeed it did).
Fader, a secular Jew, spent a great deal of time observing Boro Park Hasidic women and girls in their homes, at school, and at various activities and events. She describes her time spent in Boro Park as "constraining and stifling," adding that she "often breathed a sigh of relief as the subway crossed the Manhattan bridge" on her way home (p. 19) although she also notes that she developed close relationships with some of the families. Fader focuses on the socialization of Hasidic girls from an early age to "fit in" (i.e., with Hasidic social and cultural norms), to fear being like Gentiles, and to mold their curiosity according to a prescribed set of expectations. She devotes a great deal of detail to linguistic idiosyncrasies evident in "Hasidic English" and how the use of language reflects Hasidic girls' desire to sound (and present oneself as) "with it" (i.e., selectively aware of aspects of secular culture) but not "modern" [i.e., overly secular and/or religiously lax]. Finally, Fader discusses laws pertaining to the body such as those governing female modesty and attire and the laws of family purity which regulate the marital relationship. She also charts the system of categories for families involved in matchmaking (e.g., Rebish, Rabunish, Shayne, Balebatish) and describes the matchmaking process.
Although I am Orthodox, I am not Hasidic and have not spent extensive time with Hasidic populations in Boro Park or anywhere else. As such, I can't say for certain whether, and to what degree, Fader described the culture accurately. Nothing struck me as glaringly inaccurate, although I found some of her translations from Hebrew and Yiddish imprecise and wondered whether she had them, or much else in the book, checked by a Hasidic or even simply Orthodox person. She did mention that some of her interviewees read parts of the book and requested that selected material be omitted; Fader respected some requests and overrode others.
Something about "Mitzvah Girls" bothered me, and I'm still in the process of trying to figure out what it was. Somehow I felt that Tamar El-Or's "Educated and Ignorant," the most obvious comparison to this book (an ethnography of Gur Hasidic women living in Israel written by a secular Israeli), was superior. "Educated and Ignorant," though also highly technical, was much more focused and I finished it with a stronger sense of what the book was about and what it told me. Here, I'm still groping. There was a lot of detail but what was the point, exactly? I didn't get a sense of an overarching thesis or cohesiveness to "Mitzvah Girls."
Second, Tamar El-Or addresses some of the same issues Fader does in terms of the need to blend into the community and to respect community norms. El-Or, though, appears to relate to this in a more positive way. When she introduces herself to one of her Hasidic observees El-Or says: "You know, with the secular there's a feeling that they haven't been very successful with education, that what they want to pass on to the next generation doesn't always get there. And when they look at you, at least from the outside, it seems as if you don't have any problem of that sort" (p. 5). These words, which El-Or appears to mean sincerely, express a genuine openness to the positive aspects of Hasidic education. Fader, in contrast, appears more jaundiced with regard to intergenerational transmission in the Hasidic community, painting it as a kind of totalitarian "Big brother" environment. "Parents and teachers work together to monitor, report on, and evaluate children's behavior in terms of moral and scholastic development...Teachers extend their moral and educational influence into homes, as they send home behavior charts that parents must sign and grade...Parents, in turn, extend their influence into the classroom by writing their children mitsve-tsetlekh 'good deed notes'...Using charts and prizes, teachers and mothers help create the desire for children to fit in to what is expected..." (pp. 52-53).
El-Or describes the changes within herself as she spent more time with her Hasidic subjects: "...I learned to move my body in a special way, to change my resolute tone of voice, and to remain silent a great deal" (p. 5) and "I developed a strong antipathy to deliberately exposing private matters, such as the relations between wife and husband and between women and their bodies" (p. 7). El-Or appears open and receptive to this experience. Agreeing to dress modestly out of respect for community norms, El-Or tells one woman, "For me this is a great opportunity...Yes, of course I'll dress the way I should" (p. 6). Although Fader accepts the same commitment, she appears more ambivalent about it. "I felt it was my responsibility (as well as in my research interests) to conform as best as I could to the practices I was attempting to understand. Perhaps it was my efforts to offend no one that made my time in Boro Park feel constraining and stifling" (p. 19). Neither El-Or nor Fader ended up adopting religious beliefs or practices as a result of their experiences, but El-Or appeared more open to seeing the positive aspects of the Hasidic lifestyle even as she retained her secular principles.
I can't fault Fader for her meticulous research or attention to detail. I might argue, though, that the book suffered as a result of her judgment toward the population. And maybe my layman's perspective is limiting me here, but I'm still not sure what the overarching thesis of "Mitzvah Girls" was and, as such, can't really feel one way or the other toward it.
May 9, 2011
This book is written like a thesis and I really had a hard time with the format and the dryness.
While I am not Hasidic, and I have plenty of fundamental issues with the community, I do think that there is a certain beauty to their way of life, and I don't feel any of this came through at all in the book. I feel the author definitely judged the people she interviewed and spent time with, even though she claims to have become good friends with some of them. And that judgement came through in her writing.
I skipped most of the chapter on Yiddish - it was way too dry for me.
While I am not Hasidic, and I have plenty of fundamental issues with the community, I do think that there is a certain beauty to their way of life, and I don't feel any of this came through at all in the book. I feel the author definitely judged the people she interviewed and spent time with, even though she claims to have become good friends with some of them. And that judgement came through in her writing.
I skipped most of the chapter on Yiddish - it was way too dry for me.
September 7, 2012
I'm not sure how to rate this book. I think first of all it's important to note for the rating and for any prospective readers, that this is almost purely an ethnographic study -- there is no argument or viewpoint, no deeply rooted opinion or bias, it's just as matter-of-fact as possible, relating information and observations from the author's time spent with women and children of Hasidic families, with a special emphasis on the Bobover sect.
Comparing it to other books that are not ethnographies would be unfair and would ultimately do this research and narrative an injustice because it certainly would fall short of a traditional, less academic, non-fiction book. Bearing in mind it's anthropological context, this was one of the most enjoyable ethnographies I've read. It was an interesting insight into a closed world, and while I personally couldn't care less about the linguistic and semantic portions of her research, those too, nevertheless, ended up explaining some nuanced aspects of their culture that otherwise would have gone unnoticed had Fader not discussed the usage of language(s) and who spoke them in families and in the general Hasidic community.
As far as keeping her own opinions out of the narrative, I think the author did a very good job. It's hard to let go of your own habits and understanding of things and immerse yourself into a new environment without retaining judgments. Where she does occasionally mention how something struck her as this or that, I felt it was more of a liberal Jewish contrast to the Orthodoxy and not so much "oh the author thinks this is stupid," if that makes sense. I give her credit for approaching this not just as an assignment or project, but for actually immersing herself, as much as they would allow, into their world and I appreciated how some of her studies paralleled her own experience (such as in being a bride, attending kale classes), and for admitting that she had become personally close to many of her interviewees. Any comment with a perceived negative connotation, as mentioned in other reviews, I think can be one of any number of things: merely an idle comment, a quick liberal Jewish sidebar (aka a mention of how the other half lives in contrast), a reaction to some of the judgments and harsh criticisms from Hasidim regarding goyim or more liberal, non-observant, or unaffiliated Jews, etc. and not necessarily meant to infantilize their opinions or worldview or proclaim them as wrong or stupid. Considering some of the extremely rude, IMO, things some of the women (or as was mentioned as a belief of some in the community) said about "animalistic" goy or liberal Jews, I think Fader's written response was rather restrained in that respect. I understand their feelings about the outside, secular world, but I still found myself scoffing sometimes at what I perceived to be an arrogant air of superiority, an almost racist ideology, that all goyim are schmucks. Although, if they view the secular world as a threat to their very existence, and who in the world can blame them for this feeling/worry, then anything to reinforce separation between non-Orthodox and Orthodox Jews is probably necessary.
Overall, I felt it was thoroughly engaging and interesting, particularly the last chapter on marriage traditions and family purity laws, and I am hoping to find something that illuminates more of the male world than this was able to. I also thought the distinctions between status/class within each sect (ie. rabunishe, etc) was noteworthy and well described. It's great information to retain and keep in mind as it presents yet another layer of complexity in understanding Hasidic culture within Brooklyn.
Comparing it to other books that are not ethnographies would be unfair and would ultimately do this research and narrative an injustice because it certainly would fall short of a traditional, less academic, non-fiction book. Bearing in mind it's anthropological context, this was one of the most enjoyable ethnographies I've read. It was an interesting insight into a closed world, and while I personally couldn't care less about the linguistic and semantic portions of her research, those too, nevertheless, ended up explaining some nuanced aspects of their culture that otherwise would have gone unnoticed had Fader not discussed the usage of language(s) and who spoke them in families and in the general Hasidic community.
As far as keeping her own opinions out of the narrative, I think the author did a very good job. It's hard to let go of your own habits and understanding of things and immerse yourself into a new environment without retaining judgments. Where she does occasionally mention how something struck her as this or that, I felt it was more of a liberal Jewish contrast to the Orthodoxy and not so much "oh the author thinks this is stupid," if that makes sense. I give her credit for approaching this not just as an assignment or project, but for actually immersing herself, as much as they would allow, into their world and I appreciated how some of her studies paralleled her own experience (such as in being a bride, attending kale classes), and for admitting that she had become personally close to many of her interviewees. Any comment with a perceived negative connotation, as mentioned in other reviews, I think can be one of any number of things: merely an idle comment, a quick liberal Jewish sidebar (aka a mention of how the other half lives in contrast), a reaction to some of the judgments and harsh criticisms from Hasidim regarding goyim or more liberal, non-observant, or unaffiliated Jews, etc. and not necessarily meant to infantilize their opinions or worldview or proclaim them as wrong or stupid. Considering some of the extremely rude, IMO, things some of the women (or as was mentioned as a belief of some in the community) said about "animalistic" goy or liberal Jews, I think Fader's written response was rather restrained in that respect. I understand their feelings about the outside, secular world, but I still found myself scoffing sometimes at what I perceived to be an arrogant air of superiority, an almost racist ideology, that all goyim are schmucks. Although, if they view the secular world as a threat to their very existence, and who in the world can blame them for this feeling/worry, then anything to reinforce separation between non-Orthodox and Orthodox Jews is probably necessary.
Overall, I felt it was thoroughly engaging and interesting, particularly the last chapter on marriage traditions and family purity laws, and I am hoping to find something that illuminates more of the male world than this was able to. I also thought the distinctions between status/class within each sect (ie. rabunishe, etc) was noteworthy and well described. It's great information to retain and keep in mind as it presents yet another layer of complexity in understanding Hasidic culture within Brooklyn.
October 29, 2020
This book was hard work! (Especially the really long explanations of Yiddish dialects.) The author is an anthropologist, and I think this was based on her doctoral research. I'm not really familiar with the field of anthropology, and the terms and models it uses are very different from my own field of psychology. But I was very impressed by her attention to the details of Brooklyn Hasidic culture, by her willingness to examine her own interactions with Hasidic women and children as part of her learning, and by her respectful description of this culture's values and practices. For about 18 years I have worked with children and families from Orthodox Jewish communities in Brooklyn. Many times while reading this book I had an "aha" moment, clarifying something from my own experiences.
January 26, 2014
A nice body of work.
The million dollar quote, for me, was this gem on page 66 in a chapter about defiance: "one should accustom the child to believing without reason and explanation and then, even when he ages and his rationality is strengthened....he will not depart from the true path and observance...." -- the Lubavitcher Rebbe.
I also enjoyed her perception, and implied criticism of the Hasidic (and ultra-orthodox in general)habit of disdaining secular Jews and non-Jews which comes to an abrupt end when they find a secular or non-Jew who praised an aspect of Hasidism, suddenly they can be found trumpeting this victory "even the goyim understand that we've got it right".
The million dollar quote, for me, was this gem on page 66 in a chapter about defiance: "one should accustom the child to believing without reason and explanation and then, even when he ages and his rationality is strengthened....he will not depart from the true path and observance...." -- the Lubavitcher Rebbe.
I also enjoyed her perception, and implied criticism of the Hasidic (and ultra-orthodox in general)habit of disdaining secular Jews and non-Jews which comes to an abrupt end when they find a secular or non-Jew who praised an aspect of Hasidism, suddenly they can be found trumpeting this victory "even the goyim understand that we've got it right".
December 3, 2012
I have always been interested in the Hasidic people as I worked at a bank in Boro Park in the early 1980s and then worked with ultra Orthodox Jews at a financial services company following that. Being a shiksa, I learned a lot from them about their faith and their observant practices. I felt this book gave me some insight into how children are raised in this belief system and how they view themselves and the secular world.
July 28, 2010
The anthropologist/ethnologist in me loved this well written AND WELL DOCUMENTED study. The author really remains neutral in her observations but pairs that with an respectful empathy that is so important in academic writing. Very well done.
March 6, 2011
Something about this book just didn't work for me, because the author presents everything as if she's an insider, but really it's clear from her writing that the community still treated her as an outsider and as a potential convert.
April 8, 2012
One of the best books I've read about religious communities. Respectful, analytical and thought provoking. Very helpful in understanding the worldviews underpinning Hasidic Judaism, which differ fundamentally from the individualism of protestant Christianity which dominates modern liberalism.
June 12, 2012
pretty complete anthropological study. better than most on the subject.
July 16, 2017
Great, highly accessible book on language ideology, linguistic syncretism, and semiotic ideology. Additionally, the book is simply interesting!
January 11, 2020
I read this after seeing it cited in Iddo Tavory's "Summoning". Although it lacked some of the dense anthropological theory parts I skipped over in that book, it was otherwise more detached.
I'm not sure how much of it was the personalities of the authors, the sectarian and regional differences in the communitues, or being a female vs male outsider in a community with gender roles. I'm not sure if the author was judgy or just too committed to a dry, detached, academic style.
Iddo took part in the community, Ayala seems more to have just observed. He described people he worked with feeling hurt when they read some of his writings, not because of what was written, but "I thought this meant more to you, not just academic analysis". Iddo didn't hide that he was an anthropologist, but I get the feeling no one ever forgot Ayala was.
I felt the author gave way too much significance to certain things. "Nice" as in from a "nice family" is not unique to Hasidic Jews. Same for "interesting" as in I don't have much nice to say about them so I'll describe them as "interesting".
As evidence of forced conformity, she shares a scene of her suggesting to five year olds color the sky and grass colors other than blue and green with another girl insisting on the correct colors. This is normal child development. The author admits such happens in liberal schools, but that this is somehow more significant because of religious undertones.
The author often compares and contrasts the male and female realms in the community, but also notes she didn't have much access to the male side.
"Summoning" described a smaller, more diverse, but mainly Yeshivish (if I'm using that term correctly) community. It was an English speaking community, whereas Hasidim in Borough Park still use Yiddish. I enjoyed some of the linguistic analysis and the Yiddish snippets, although I think that part of the book might have been stronger with just showing the English translation and then having the original Yiddish in the coda.
Her description of Hasidic Yiddish and Hasidic English confused. She makes it sound like the men and women are speaking completely different languages, which can't be true. Is it more like dialects or like formal language at work versus how you talk at home? Do I talk differently with my mom, female relatives and my girl friends then with my husband and other men?
My favorite part was the section on matchmaking. I found the description of mountains and valleys as a metaphor for a long married life quite beautiful and good advice.
At the end, the author shares how her work was shared on a Hasidic website and includes comments. The challenges of ethnographic studies in a global, social media world could have been further discussed without the author taking personal affront.
She describes how the women she wrote about were more concerned about sharing stories or practices that make them seem superstitious, rather than caring about their perceptions of the non-Jewish community. This could have been more developed, I'm intrigued about the differences in how they want to be represented versus what others may consider a positive or negative portrayal.
Iddo Tavory openly criticized the community, but also felt comfortable sharing his concerns with them. His portrayal comes off warm overall.
This didn't come from the author herself, but the term nonliberal is weird to me, even Orwellian (ungood). I can understand declining fundamentalist due to a negative connotation, but there's other options. Conservative seems pretty obvious to me. Any connotations with conservative are the same as liberal.
I'm not sure how much of it was the personalities of the authors, the sectarian and regional differences in the communitues, or being a female vs male outsider in a community with gender roles. I'm not sure if the author was judgy or just too committed to a dry, detached, academic style.
Iddo took part in the community, Ayala seems more to have just observed. He described people he worked with feeling hurt when they read some of his writings, not because of what was written, but "I thought this meant more to you, not just academic analysis". Iddo didn't hide that he was an anthropologist, but I get the feeling no one ever forgot Ayala was.
I felt the author gave way too much significance to certain things. "Nice" as in from a "nice family" is not unique to Hasidic Jews. Same for "interesting" as in I don't have much nice to say about them so I'll describe them as "interesting".
As evidence of forced conformity, she shares a scene of her suggesting to five year olds color the sky and grass colors other than blue and green with another girl insisting on the correct colors. This is normal child development. The author admits such happens in liberal schools, but that this is somehow more significant because of religious undertones.
The author often compares and contrasts the male and female realms in the community, but also notes she didn't have much access to the male side.
"Summoning" described a smaller, more diverse, but mainly Yeshivish (if I'm using that term correctly) community. It was an English speaking community, whereas Hasidim in Borough Park still use Yiddish. I enjoyed some of the linguistic analysis and the Yiddish snippets, although I think that part of the book might have been stronger with just showing the English translation and then having the original Yiddish in the coda.
Her description of Hasidic Yiddish and Hasidic English confused. She makes it sound like the men and women are speaking completely different languages, which can't be true. Is it more like dialects or like formal language at work versus how you talk at home? Do I talk differently with my mom, female relatives and my girl friends then with my husband and other men?
My favorite part was the section on matchmaking. I found the description of mountains and valleys as a metaphor for a long married life quite beautiful and good advice.
At the end, the author shares how her work was shared on a Hasidic website and includes comments. The challenges of ethnographic studies in a global, social media world could have been further discussed without the author taking personal affront.
She describes how the women she wrote about were more concerned about sharing stories or practices that make them seem superstitious, rather than caring about their perceptions of the non-Jewish community. This could have been more developed, I'm intrigued about the differences in how they want to be represented versus what others may consider a positive or negative portrayal.
Iddo Tavory openly criticized the community, but also felt comfortable sharing his concerns with them. His portrayal comes off warm overall.
This didn't come from the author herself, but the term nonliberal is weird to me, even Orwellian (ungood). I can understand declining fundamentalist due to a negative connotation, but there's other options. Conservative seems pretty obvious to me. Any connotations with conservative are the same as liberal.
November 16, 2021
I had to read this for my intro to religious studies class. I found the content very interesting but found it to be written in a rather dry way. I understand that it was technically an ethnography but since it was published in book form I think the author could have taken out some of the drier chunks that lagged or changed the language to make it more readable for a wider less academic audience
September 19, 2012
Explores the role of "nonliberal religion" in the everyday lives of Hasidic women, with a focus on how they raise their children and socialize girls into Hasidic notions of nonliberal femininity. Very useful comparison for my own work on the socialization of Muslim brides on the Swahili coast.
December 21, 2013
Excellent ethnography. Very well researched and well written!
September 24, 2019
Super fascinating ethnography of Hasidic women in Brooklyn. Inspires great thinking about religious communities and gender socialization in a closed community.
November 14, 2019
The book itself was a bit dry, considering the topic. It's not really necessary to spend a quarter of the book explaining how one translated from Yiddish to English.
I worked for Hasidic Jews at a prior job and this book explained why the ladies who were super religious acted the way that they did, not only to the non-Jewish employees like me, but the more modern Orthodox women who worked there.
It all makes sense to me now.
I worked for Hasidic Jews at a prior job and this book explained why the ladies who were super religious acted the way that they did, not only to the non-Jewish employees like me, but the more modern Orthodox women who worked there.
It all makes sense to me now.
December 2, 2024
I read two of the author's books this month after hearing her on a podcast. I admire and appreciate her in depth research into the lives of Hasidic Jews. This book definitely read more like a thesis, or at the very least an ethnographic study. Still, interesting info!
December 5, 2021
Super interesting, but I feel like a lot of the author's own bias are very clear.
September 10, 2025
1 1/2 stars
Read
March 4, 2026mantive uma mente e um espírito aberto ao ler isto mas às vezes é mesmo sobre ijboling e continuar
May 14, 2013
Of all the books about hasidim I've read, Fader gives what is probably the most accurate portrayal.
Displaying 1 - 22 of 22 reviews