religion

Elizabeth Packard: A Noble Fight

andrea — Tue, 26 Apr 2011 08:00:00 +0000

In 1860, it was legal for a man to send his wife to an insane asylum against her will, based on his word and that of one or two witnesses. The asylum could deny patients the right to legal representation as well as visits and uncensored correspondence with friends. And a man could sell his property and take his children across the country without consulting his wife, because the property and children were considered his, even if her inheritance and income had contributed to that property. This was the world in which Elizabeth Parsons Packard lived.

Born in 1816 in Dare, Massachusetts, she lived a fairly conventional life her first forty-four years, marrying Calvinist minister Theophilus Packard, bearing him six children, and moving from town to town and state to state as he sought ministry opportunities. But during the family's residence in Manteno, Illinois in the 1850s she began to exhibit greater independence from her husband, dabbling in Spiritualism, espousing unorthodox (some would say heretical) religious opinions and confessing to romantic (although unconsummated) feelings for another man. Prompted by this “abnormal behavior,” in 1860 Theophilus had his wife committed to the insane asylum in Jacksonville, Illinois.

Packard was released after three years and declared sane in the jury trial she was denied when forced into the asylum. While her release may have been partially due to efforts of friends on her behalf, it was also because Andrew McFarland, the superintendent of the Jacksonville asylum and a leading figure in the psychiatric community, had become exasperated with her demands and complaints, terming her “an unendurable annoyance.” The antagonism between Packard and McFarland, which continued after her release through both of their writings, is painted in detail in this book, as are the evolving psychiatric standards and practices of the time.

Packard was not reunited with her children upon her release, as her husband had taken her younger children back to Massachusetts with him. (Her oldest sons were living on their own by that point.) A woman of tremendous resources, she began writing pamphlets and lobbying state legislatures for changes that would give both the mentally ill and married women greater rights.

Elizabeth Packard: A Noble Fight is an engaging portrait of Packard's life and crusade. She emerges as a shrewd campaigner who took advantage of stereotypes of weak females who needed the protection of strong men (legislators) because of their powerlessness; her personal charisma went a long way in lobbying efforts. Modern readers may be disappointed that she did not broaden her efforts to include greater rights for all women or claim full equality with men. Nor did she divorce her husband (although they never lived together after her time at the asylum) since she viewed divorce as scandalous. However, such statements and actions might have turned society against her and hurt her cause.

Kudos to Linda Carlisle for bringing to light the forgotten story of a woman who challenged prevailing ideas about the treatment of the mentally ill and the rights of women. Academic biographies of this sort are often quite dry, but Packard crafts an engaging narrative. Her passion for this cause shines through and creates a compelling read.

Written by: Karen Duda, April 26th 2011

Gladdy’s Wake

mandy — Fri, 22 Apr 2011 08:00:00 +0000

By B.K. Anderson

Second Story Press

It took me a while to really sink my teeth into Gladdy’s Wake. The book weaves in and out of three generations, each tying together through family, hints of religion, and the story of Nawal Habib, a devout Muslim. Nawal (once Janie Kelly) is suspected of terrorism, an act that reunites her with her estranged brother, Frank (now a priest) and hospitalized father, Daniel (a once devout Catholic); both of whom she left to eventually reinvent herself as Nawal Habib. The story runs through Nawal’s family tragedy, her rebellion, the birth of her son, and eventual religious transformation, all the while introducing the reader to her grandfather, James Kelly, a womanizing Irish immigrant interested in fast cash with no real ethical principles, lest it regard his passion: Gladdy Sage.

Though each story is captivating, the book is fractured and difficult to engage in. It seemed that each time I fell into the story, the author interfered with an abrupt switch from one narrator to the next. It was not until the near end of the novel that Anderson’s transitions became fluid and absorbing, the way a book should really grab your attention and not let go.

Nevertheless, the story is a unique twist on the post-9/11 novel and introduces the reader to the challenges of belief systems and the interconnectedness of the human race through the passion of moral conviction. While the protagonists devote their lives to different ideologies, from Islam to Catholicism, atheism and the idolization of romantic love, each struggle with the reality of their idols and the conflicts that exist within themselves and their systems of belief. In this way, Gladdy’s Wake takes a critical look into how we follow faith and why we accepts conceptions of the “moral life” that contradict our character.

Nawal struggles with jihad and the role of women in Islam; Frank with the Catholic vilification of his hidden sexual orientation; Michael Kaminsky (Gladdy’s object of affection and James Kelly’s match) struggles with his Jewish heritage in the Communist revolution; and James Kelly with the real Gladdy Sage – an alcoholic escapist, devoted to Michael Kaminsky and the drink. None of the characters in Anderson’s novel are able to see their deities for what they are. Each blinds himself or herself, excusing as a way of maintaining the pedestal upon which they have placed their flawed idea of morality.

In turn, the story employs a seemingly fractured start to reveal the connection between the disconnected by relating the characters on a moral level. In this way, the author recovers her initial shortcomings. Though this lends the question, what makes a book? Its ability to capture its audience upfront, or to engage its reader with a critical approach to a heavy issue?

Written by: Ani Colekessian, April 22nd 2011

Lily of the Nile: A Novel of Cleopatra's Daughter

mandy — Mon, 04 Apr 2011 20:00:00 +0000

By Stephanie Dray

Berkley Books

Lily of the Nile is a treat for lovers of colorful historical fiction. An intriguing reconstruction of the ancient cult of the goddess Isis, the book is set in the last years of the first century B.C. in Alexandria and imperial Rome. The novel is told from the viewpoint of Cleopatra Selene, one of the children of Mark Antony and the most famous Cleopatra of all, the celebrated Queen of Egypt. Princess Selene is only ten years old when her parents commit suicide rather than fall into the hands of a victorious Octavian. Taken captive by the Romans, Selene must use all her intelligence and diplomatic skills to survive.

Stephanie Dray, a Smith College graduate and a specialist in Middle Eastern studies, evokes very well the smells, sounds, sights, and feelings of the classical world. Though she bases much of her writing on documentary evidence, she does not try to be impartial: a prefatory note to the reader announces that she has “unabashedly adopted the slant most favorable to Egypt, Selene, her family, or to the Isiac faith.” The view of Rome and Romans is thus largely unflattering.

Upon meeting the Emperor Octavian for the first time, the heroine is impressed by the “wintry ruthlessness” of his gaze. Growing up part hostage, part political pawn in the imperial household, Selene's life allows Dray to contrast Roman and Egyptian ideals of proper gender roles for women and to “explore ancient sexual morality.” The presence of temples to Isis in Rome itself is key to the story, for Selene is regarded by her co-religionists as a new incarnation of Isis, and thus possesses an influence that Octavian wishes to use for his own purposes.

The culture wars between Roman and Egyptian values are set in the frame of the prophetic expectations that preceded the birth of Jesus and the beginnings of Christianity. In the author's note at the end of the book, Dray advances the thesis that the religion of Isis influenced early Christians and prepared the way for present-day spirituality.

Selene's successful pursuit of political power and religious freedom is meant to inspire the young women of today to pursue their own dreams. The book includes a six-page Readers Guide that poses discussion questions on the story, the history, and the cultural implications of the novel. Lily of the Nile would be a thought-provoking choice for a girls' book club or a women's studies class, and I encourage anyone with an interest in history or religion to pick this one up.

Written by: Kittye Delle Robbins-Herring, April 4th 2011

Holy Kitchens: True Business

brittany — Sun, 13 Feb 2011 08:00:00 +0000

Directed by Daljit Singh

Junoon Hospitality

Punjabi chef Vikas Khanna is known for bringing great Indian food to discerning New York City diners. Although he surely has his hands full with his new restaurant Junoon, Khanna is working on an arduous extra-curricular project—a series of short documentary films about the worldwide connection between spirituality and feeding the hungry.

The series, Holy Kitchens, will explore different religions’ beliefs and practices regarding serving the needy through feeding them. The first film, True Business, is about Sikhism, but Hinduism, Islam, Buddhism, Christianity, Zoroastrianism, and Judaism will all be featured in upcoming films.

True Business follows Khanna as he returns to his childhood home of Amritsar, India. In the film’s brief thirty-seven-minute run time, the chef takes us through a history of the Sikh religion, including the belief behind langar, the practice of serving free food to the public. The first guru, Guru Nanak, started the tradition in sixteenth-century India at a time when people were deeply divided by religion, gender, and caste. The notion of sharing food with people regardless of their beliefs or social position was a radical concept at the time. Arguably, it still is.

Today, langars thrive on several continents. Khanna focuses on the langar in Amritsar at the Golden Temple, but he also showcases langars in the United States and South America. Khanna’s travels show that wherever Sikhs live, they offer langars to bring people together and serve their communities. Langars worldwide serve a staggering amount of people, as many as 50,000 a day in some kitchens, which means huge-scale food production. The best part of True Business is watching the few scenes that show this process—how the meals get to the table. At the langar in Amristar, volunteers pile made-from-scratch flat bread in five-foot-tall stacks, laboring over hot cooking stones to prepare tons of food for strangers.

Between depictions of the international langars, the film shows some grainy but still impressive footage of Gurdwaras (places of worship) and other urban scenery in India. Khanna uses very little narration, but does feature several interviews with scholars and leaders, including Deepak Chopra, reflecting on the history and significance of langars as a practice.

The film could do with a little more organizing to give background and structure for people who aren’t familiar with Khanna’s career as a chef or with langars, but overall True Business does paint a picture of the roots and community mindedness of Sikhism. It will be interesting to see what approach Khanna takes to other religions, with which he might not have a personal history, in the films that have yet to be released.

Written by: Hannah Moulton Belec, February 13th 2011

A World Apart (2/4/2011)

mandy — Mon, 07 Feb 2011 09:00:00 +0000

The Flea Theater

New York, New York

As Susan Mosakowski’s A World Apart opens, Mother Augustina, an abbess in a Cistercian monastery, is deeply engrossed in reading a religious text. Once interrupted, she explains that she is searching for answers to a host of troubling questions. Doubts about all kinds of things have begun to creep in, she says. Take the issue of heaven and hell. Common assumptions posit one above and the other below us. But why?

“Heaven and hell do not have that kind of geography,” the abbess (beautifully performed by Antoinette LaVecchia) tells a stunned Sister Cornelia (played with graceful torment by Amelia Workman). “Maybe heaven is right next to us, shoulder to shoulder, or in front of us, or behind, and that anyone who wanted to go to heaven could be there in a minute, if only they had the desire. It’s all about desire.”

Ah yes, desire. When Father Daniel Byrne (an intense Andy Paris) arrives at the convent to lecture the sisters, he and Sister Augustina trade smoldering glances. Not only that, his presentation further ignites the uncertainty that Sister Augustina has been grappling with. She finds one query particularly provocative: “Are we doing more for others by being inside our monastic world, or should we be outside and active, a part of everyday life, a part of every life that needs us?”

In short order Father Byrne confides that he has decided to leave the priesthood and—surprise—after a few brief encounters he asks Sister Augustina to remove her wimple and join him. He presents the option matter-of-factly, as if it’s a no-brainer for her to renounce her vows and leave the cloistered, celibate life she’s led for decades. Much to the priest’s annoyance, the request provokes crises of faith and commitment in Augustina, crises that spill into the lives of the nuns in her care. So what to do?

While A World Apart might have delved into the roots of the Sister Augustina’s angst more deeply—for example, it’s hard to imagine that her lust had been completely dormant before Father Byrne’s arrival or that it took decades for her to become curious about world events—the play raises issues that continue to nag at the Catholic Church. To its credit, A World Apart does not offer an oversimplified resolution of these concerns. Is there a place for monastic life in the twenty-first century? Does requiring celibacy make sense today? You decide.

Lee Savage’s spare set and Mark Barton and Ryan Seelig’s lighting design create a haunting environment for this eighty-minute play. It’s a serious work with ample humor, delving into what it means to be mindful and make conscious choices. Well acted and resonant, A World Apart addresses the human need for authenticity, love, and meaning. In the end, regardless of whether Sister Augustina’s religious order chooses to remain cloistered or opts to frolic in the muck of earthly delights, Father Byrne’s admonition rings true: “Sometimes you have to go outside to get more on the inside.” At the same time, what he doesn’t say is also true: Sometimes quiet contemplation and solitude can be enough.

*A World Apart will run through February 26, 2011 at The Flea Theater in Manhattan. Tickets are $18 and can be ordered by calling 212.352.3101 or by going to theatermania.com.

Photo credit: Jim Baldassare

Written by: Eleanor J. Bader, February 7th 2011

The Pious Sex: Essays on Women and Religion in the History of Political Thought

gita — Sun, 06 Feb 2011 08:00:00 +0000

Edited by Andrea Radasanu

Lexington Books

I could comment extensively on each of the essays in The Pious Sex, but seeing as there are eleven in total (not counting the introduction) and I have limited space here, that will not be possible.

At the beginning of the introduction, the editor, Andrea Radasanu, immediately apologizes for calling to mind “the worst of the prejudices associated with women over the ages: the characterization of women as superstitious and inherently irrational creatures that must be kept firmly in hand by the patriarchal establishment.” I admit the first thing I thought of when I read the title (and subtitle) was the injustice levied on ‘the fairer sex’ by the religious order(s) of the day. This set of essays tries to untangle the mistreatment of women by religious sects and leaders and more fully examine the relationship of women to religion (and vice versa) in the history of political thought. In other words, it’s sort of like reading a meta-history: history about the history of women and religion.

The titles of the individual essays hint at what kind of education (formal or otherwise) the reader must have in order to fully grasp the essays themselves. For example: “The Piety of Esther,” by Clifford Orwin, requires having read the Book of Esther in the Old Testament of the Bible; “Love and Piety in Machiavelli’s Mandragola,” by Catharine Connors, assumes prior knowledge of Machiavelli and his work, or La Mandragola if nothing else; “Jane Austen’s Education of Women: A Study of Mansfield Park,” by Amy L. Bonnette, requires having read Mansfield Park, if not other works by Jane Austen as well as information pertaining to the author.

Each of the essays has endnotes for further reading in case you, like me, aren’t as well read as the writing assumes you to be. (Actually, I would have preferred footnotes over endnotes because it’s annoying to have to keep flipping back and forth between the page and the note, but at least the endnotes for each essay are at the end of said essay and not at the end of the collection.)

All that said, I really benefited from reading and learning about the relationship between women and religion in a more complicated way than, “Eve ate the forbidden fruit first; therefore she is the root of all evil.” Also readers should note that the essays are written from a Western philosophical viewpoint and focus primarily on ancient Roman, Jewish, and Christian settings. I would be interested to read a similar collection about women, piety, and religion that are written from a more Eastern viewpoint and focus on other world religions such as Hinduism, Buddhism, and Native American and native African religious traditions.

Overall, I recommend reading the introduction before you commit to the bulk of the collection. I was able to enjoy most of the pieces, but I would have to be much more well-read to understand these essays at any great depth. I got the gist of it, but I think I was hitting the tip of the metaphorical iceberg.

Written by: Viannah Duncan, February 6th 2011

Why Study Talmud in the Twenty-first Century?: The Relevance of the Ancient Jewish Text to Our World

mandy — Mon, 24 Jan 2011 20:00:00 +0000

Edited by Paul Socken

Lexington Books

Lending a somewhat contrarian voice to this collection of essays extolling the virtues of Talmud study, the rabbi Dr. Pinchas Hayman takes umbrage at the question Paul Socken poses in the book’s title: “Why should the indescribable depth, beauty, and challenge of authentic Jewish literature require apologetic essays?” He concludes with his own “more relevant” and “far more difficult” question: “Who needs the twenty-first century if one learns Talmud?”

For Hayman, and several of the contributors to Why Study Talmud in the Twenty-first Century?, the life-long process of learning Talmud provides a safe haven against the threats and anxieties of contemporary life. Talmud study is, as Shaye J.D. Cohen puts it, “what a (male) Jew does.” For Cohen and others, the Talmud is a “feast for the mind,” a “brain teaser” that not only affords intellectual sustenance but also, in the process, constructs one’s Jewish identity. Another contributor, Michael Chernick, echoes Hayman in lamenting a “world focused on ‘now,’” one in which many Jewish people have found Talmud study “old-fashioned” and no longer relevant.

The first (and I believe most compelling) section of the book, though, is written by women who have taught and studied Talmud. As Chernick acknowledges, “patriarchal societies do not tend to preserve women’s thoughts and concerns more than they must,” and he acknowledges that while the view of Talmud as uniformly misogynistic is misguided, much of Talmudic law is problematic for women, to say the least. How do women devote themselves to the study of texts whose rules for women would seem to reverse what many who do live in the twenty-first century would deem desperately needed progress in the areas of women’s rights?

In responding to this question, Devorah Zlochower admits that Talmud study is “a mixed blessing as I find myself engaged in an impossible dance between delight in the tradition and its foundational texts and discomfort with its limitations and exclusions. It is essential for me to understand the texts of our tradition but I cannot do this without wrestling with the tradition simultaneously.” Her description of this uneasy dialog with the past is exciting and unsettling, and it is clearly informed by her twenty-first century feminism. In reading texts on marriage and divorce, and their asymmetric treatment of women, she refuses to ignore the “woman who is chained to a dead marriage by a husband unwilling to grant her a divorce.”

The most universally accessible part of this paean to these foundational texts of Judaism is the joyful and life-affirming process of study, the hard-won, patience-testing, identity-altering commitment to studying the Talmud, page by page, often in study groups and with a partner. The process teaches a tolerance for ambiguity, exercises the intellectual faculties in a way that is transformative, and places participants in a tradition that is thousands of years old. Devora Steinmetz compares the practice of regular study to prayer in a way that all those who interpret texts should be able to appreciate: “But study is different from prayer—or at least from the ways in which most of us experience prayer—in that in study I must open myself to the voice of the other.”

The book is intended primarily for Jewish readers. As Jane Kanarek puts it, “the Talmud gives me a place to be a Jew,” and the collection is a reminder of the “daily Sinai” of Talmudic study, a discipline that leads to revelation and, often, challenge to authority and received opinion. In their polyvocality and contradictoriness, these texts teach the kind of subtlety of interpretation, appreciation for challenge, and an awareness of the “minds of the past” that forged Jewish law and tradition. For non-Jewish readers, the sense of awe and discovery the writers describe as they relate their own experiences with Talmud study, even with brief examples of the kind of exegesis involved, must be taken largely on faith.

The reward for taking up this practice, according to several of the contributors, is a kind of direct access to the divine. While this sort of intense grappling with ancient and very difficult texts is not for the faint of heart, the rewards these writers describe are appealing to all who have felt the allure of textual criticism. Chernick writes, “There is a contemporary sense (malady?) that if a text is very old it must be irrelevant.” An even worse tendency is to view old texts—whether ancient sacred writing, Shakespeare, or the U. S. Constitution, for example—as inviolable, immune to multiple interpretation, subject only to some imagined “literal” meaning. This disciplinary model described here is one that promises to invigorate the study of virtually any challenging text.

As is often the case with such collections, the essays do not speak to each other very successfully, and the order of presentation seems somewhat haphazard. The pieces reflect many of the conflicts that have arisen between Reform and Orthodox Judaism, as well as the broader intellectual divisions of our time. But the book succeeds in making its invitation, and this ancient but vibrant dialectical tradition will surely endure.

Written by: Rick Taylor, January 24th 2011

Self-Liberation: Through Seeing with Naked Awareness

mandy — Tue, 18 Jan 2011 08:00:00 +0000

By John Myrdhin Reynolds, Guru Padmasambhava

Snow Lion Publications

Self-Liberation is a new translation of a Buddhist text said to have been hidden for generations by its creator, Guru Padmasambhava, in order to ensure that it was not uncovered until such time as Tibetans were mentally prepared for it. This is one of many such texts, but is revered to be the epitome of all Buddhist teachings by many scholars.

The book itself begins with a foreword that establishes the historical context for the teachings as well as explaining the difficulty in translation. John Myrdhin Reynolds is a particularly appropriate translator of this material since he is a Buddhist scholar as well as someone who is able to read Tibetan. After the translator’s introduction, the translation itself is written, followed by an outline of the text, the translator’s comments on the meaning of the text, and several appendices. The original Tibetan text is included as well.

The material is very academic and philosophical in nature, although if the reader is knowledgeable of Buddhist teachings, much of it will be familiar. The ultimate meaning of the term self-liberation is to free one’s self from identifying with his or her own thoughts and to realize that what we have come to know as reality is simply a construct of our mind itself. To simply contemplate the world around you, the author writes, is the act of being purely aware and transcending “mind.”

Throughout, the text repeats its lessons in the format of explaining a principle (View), how to think about the principle (Meditation), how to act on the principle (Conduct), and what one can expect to come of this (Fruit). The ideas are laid out in logical arguments and continually reinforce the importance of continued practice of contemplation of these notions. The author urges the reader not to confuse the nature of the mind with what the mind does: “Meditation involves the activities of the mind and the erecting of mental constructions, but is itself limited by the mind.”

Overall, Self-Liberation is an accessible text that will provide much food for thought to anyone who is interested in and familiar with Buddhist teachings. It is not, however, light reading.

Written by: Kari O’Driscoll, January 18th 2011

Eyes Wide Open

mandy — Sun, 16 Jan 2011 08:00:00 +0000

Directed by Haim Tabakman

First Run Features

Viewing Eyes Wide Open is like watching a wrecking ball swing towards a beloved old building from afar; you can see the destructive aftermath coming, but are powerless to stop it. It is a gorgeously filmed demolition, filled with exquisite tenderness and emotion, but a demolition nonetheless.

The story follows the love between two Orthodox Jews living in Jerusalem. Aaron (an amazing acting job by Zohar Strauss) is a butcher, content living a simple life divided between his wife, children, job, and religious study. When Ezri (played by Ran Danker), a young gay man, is in need of a job, Aaron takes him in and teaches him the butcher trade. Soon it is Ezri who is teaching Aaron—opening his eyes up to fun, the pleasures of sex, freedom, and real human connection. Aaron awakens to a life outside of religion, and fights to reconcile it with everything he has been taught. He struggles to deny his passion for Ezri, seeing it at first as a challenge from God, but soon is overtaken by his desires and finds himself having an affair. Eventually, Aaron’s wife and the rest of the community find out, and the two are ostracized and attacked.

When Aaron’s rabbi visits him and asks him why he does not tell Ezri to leave he responds, “I feel alive. I need him. I was dead, and now I am alive.” It is a quiet but powerful moment, representative of the best of the film. Eyes Wide Open is masterful at silences, using as few words as possible to get its message across. Although the characters say little, we quickly become attached to them and their story. This is due mainly to superb acting by Strauss and Danker, who are well cast and very convincing. The audience genuinely feels their temptation and pain, and is invested in the survival of their relationship.

The message that it is impossible for homosexual relationships to exist within strict religious communities is not a new one. What is unique to the film is that the townspeople are not just against homosexuality. They interfere in each others’ lives and with heterosexual couples as well. Anything deemed immoral is grounds for personal confrontation. Thus, the film is not just looking at how religion restricts homosexual love, but how it restricts everyone. Aaron’s wife suffers as much from his infidelity as he does and the torment he receives from his community for his actions seems a small price to pay for a break from his monotonous, bland old life.

Eyes Wide Open does not offer any easy solutions for integrating religion with personal sexual orientation. But it does indicate that greater acceptance for diversity within religion would benefit everyone. Maybe, the film seems to say, there is some way to stop that wrecking ball before it strikes. Maybe the destruction is not as inevitable as we assume.

Written by: Arielle Burgdorf, January 16th 2011

The Mikvah Queen

annette — Wed, 01 Dec 2010 16:00:00 +0000

By Jennifer Natalya Fink

Rebel Satori Press

In The Mikvah Queen, the mind of Jane Schwartz bursts with a surprising mixture of Talmudic stories, ‘70s popular culture, and the stream of consciousness impulses of a preteen girl. Author Jennifer Natalya Fink gives us the story of a young woman who turns to her cultural and religious heritage for tools to aid her in approaching adolescence and beginning to understand herself in new ways.

In her imagination, Jane recreates herself as Leah, the older sister of Rachel, the beloved of Jacob in the book of Genesis. Jane’s week peaks on Wednesday, when she enjoys private Talmudic study with Mike Silverstein. While her secular parents do not understand her interest in this deep level of religious study, they are supportive and drive her a distance. Jane’s inner monologues reveal a crush on Mike, likely inspired by not only good looks but, more importantly, the knowledge which he opens to her. Jane creates an unusual diary, focusing on the mikvah, a special bath prescribed under certain conditions in Orthodox Judaism, and laws related to ritual purity.

In her quiet neighborhood, lacking close friends of her own age, Jane is drawn to her middle aged neighbor, Mrs. Charlene Walkeson, who is battling cancer. Jane pretends to be sick, plays hooky from school, and spends time at the Walkeson’s house so she is not home alone. Her interest in religious laws of purity inspires a plan to make a healing mikvah for Mrs. Walkeson, in the process giving herself an opportunity to experience this important ritual. Once she gets this idea, she begins to hear God speaking to her (“Leah, my Leah, says God....it’s time”), calling her away from mundane distractions such as dinner time and school work.

As a reader, I wanted to get to know Jane more deeply. She makes all kinds of stream of consciousness observations that are believable from an eleven-year-old girl, and she outlines her Talmudic learning in layer after layer. I loved that she could careen from the technical aspects of law to heartfelt questions—“What would the Torah tell us about mermaids, she wonders?”

It would not have fit with the style of the novel, but my preference would be to see Jane through her interactions with a wider range of people. Her father, so quick to allow her to stay home sick, and her neighbor, amused at Jane’s theft of makeup from her bathroom, gave me an imperfect picture. Also, I did not so much like the style of switching between the voices of Jane and Mrs. Walkeson.

Overall, Jennifer Natalya Fink gives us a glimpse of coming of age and sorting out rules that honors an important rite of passage—the onset of menses. Through the heroine, Jane, the author brings up for reflection questions of women’s im/purity that need to be addressed by people of all backgrounds. I loved listening to Jane rename herself, and insert herself in Talmudic stories, demonstrating the weight of each young girl’s life.

Written by: Lisa Rand, December 1st 2010

The Red Queen

brittany — Thu, 14 Oct 2010 00:00:00 +0000

By Philippa Gregory

Touchstone

Philippa Gregory’s most recent work of historical fiction, The Red Queen, describes the bloody War of the Roses from the perspective of Margaret Beaufort, a member of the house of Lancaster and, perhaps most famously, grandmother to Henry VIII. Gregory’s second book in the Cousins’ War series, The Red Queen serves as a foil to The White Queen, which presented the war from the perspective of the York Queen Elizabeth Woodville.

As a child, Margaret is fervently devout, with a special devotion to Joan of Arc and the Virgin Mary. Her desire to join a religious order is, however, of little importance to her family, who hope that she will provide an heir to the throne. She is married at the age of twelve to Edmund Tudor, King Henry VI’s twenty-four-year-old half brother, and widowed shortly after becoming pregnant. Margaret faces death herself during a difficult childbirth, and becomes convinced God spared her life in order for her to fulfill her destiny and make her son the King of England. Devoting her life to this ambition, Margaret carefully navigates the shifting court politics of a nation seething with civil war. Her determination and clever plotting allow her to infiltrate the house of York and orchestrate one of the greatest rebellions in British history—calling her son back from exile in order to wage war, seize the crown, and become the king she always knew he would be.

Margaret is presented as the antithesis of her rival Elizabeth, the protagonist of The White Queen: Margaret is plain, Elizabeth famously beautiful; Margaret’s life lacks romance, Elizabeth’s is a love story; Margaret is a pious Catholic and Elizabeth practices magic. Allied with opposing sides, the women’s experiences of the wars are also quite disparate. It was interesting to see the events presented from the women’s different points of view, but as divergent as their stories were, this approach to the series occasionally made it feel as if I had already read the book.

One of the most interesting aspects of Margaret in The Red Queen is her central role in the murder of the two princes in the tower, both Elizabeth’s sons. The person responsible for their murder is left a mystery in The White Queen, and remains one of history’s greatest unsolved mysteries. Gregory’s choice to have Margaret order their execution, while a historically plausible theory, is a risky one for an author. It is a testament to Gregory’s writing and character development that she can create a sympathetic character out of a cold-blooded killer.

Another intriguing aspect of the book is Gregory’s exploration of women’s religious beliefs and practices, which is also a central theme in The White Queen. Margaret’s constant assertions that she is favored by God and that her political plots are in accordance with divine will is repetitive and tiresome at times, but using religion to legitimize ambition and power was a frequent trope in women’s lives. Gregory uses this device, not to suggest any divine origin of Margaret’s unlikely rise to power, but to demonstrate the way Margaret herself might have negotiated and viewed that power. Furthermore, Gregory’s depiction of Margaret’s constant recourse to prayer—like Elizabeth’s use of magic—elucidates how women viewed their relationship with the divine as a way to control events over which they actually had very little control.

Serious historians may be frustrated with Gregory’s highly fictionalized writing, and Margaret is a very complex character to be explored in such an easy-to-read, breezy novel. Ultimately, however, Gregory is to be commended for bringing attention to women’s history. Margaret is a fascinating historical figure whose role in her son’s climb to power and influence over the early Tudor kings has often been overlooked. I recommend The Red Queen as a thoroughly enjoyable examination of Margaret and the War of the Roses, a delightfully crafted story of the woman who brought the Tudors to the throne.

Written by: Shannon Hill, October 13th 2010

The New York Regional Mormon Singles Halloween Dance

mandy — Tue, 12 Oct 2010 16:00:00 +0000

By Elna Baker

Dutton

Beginning at a Halloween-themed singles dance for Mormon adults in the tristate area (the party referenced in the title of her novel) a Queen-Bee-costumed Elna Baker sets the scene for the spiritually-infused existential struggles that are soon to come. Although the attendees are adults, the event aches of prepubescent awkwardness and is plagued by the same maladies that afflict these preteen school functions: forced sobriety, abysmal music, sex-segregated clustering, embarrassing encounters with couples dancing, and sanctified social hierarchy. In a room full of college-aged virgins expectantly looking to find a future spouse before spinsterhood sets in at graduation, no one seems the least bit interested in the chubby girl dressed as a mistress of the hive, and for the fourth year in a row, Elna Baker leaves the dance alone.

Being a single Mormon gal in New York City isn’t without its unique challenges, and Baker addresses them with just the right blend of earnestness and self-deprecating humor. More Sex and the City than Big Love, Baker’s story is an uncommon version of a common enough conflict for the modern American woman: how to be yourself and nab the man of your dreams. For a liberal Mormon like Baker, religion gets added to the mix, and The New York Regional Mormon Singles Halloween Dance takes us through her coming of age—and coming to terms—as she attempts to reconcile her desire to embody conflicting identities: that of a headstrong, adventurous, sexually curious young woman who wants to be desired by men (and envied by women) versus a submissive, straight-laced wife and mother.

Baker’s somewhat unrealistic relationship expectations stem from her own experience growing up in an idyllic Mormon family. They are complicated by the overlapping and contradictory messages about conventional gender roles and individual autonomy that she has gleaned from both her religion and American popular culture. The marriage Baker envisions for herself takes the shape of a traditional man-and-wife coupling where a charmingly pragmatic and devoted soulmate (Mormons only please!) passionately sweeps her off her feet in Hollywood rom-com fashion. But this is real life we’re talking about here, and even Carrie Bradshaw had to wait until SATC made its debut on the big screen to tie the knot with her perfect match.

Kissing boys is fun and all, but after twenty-seven years, Baker is ready to get to the good stuff—just not at the expense of her faith. Having been taught that sex before marriage is the second greatest sin (murder being the first), her Mormonism contributes to the manifestation of a kind of rabid marriage mania. Unfortunately for Baker, the only Mormon boys she finds in New York City are either tragically dull or playing house Dad at the “family home evening,” a weekly gathering-cum-celestial popularity contest for twenty-something Latter Day Saints who prefer wholesome entertainment—like group devotional readings—to the debauched activities on offer in the big city. When Baker finally does meet a guy with zeal, he’s a diehard atheist who doesn’t believe in the institution of marriage or the existence of a soul, much less the idea that Pocahontas was a Jew.

Baker’s lack of firm resolve about the truth of Joseph Smith’s teachings creates a flip flop effect of religious vigor and apathy, as well as an intellectual insatiability that causes her to return again and again to the unenviable position of trying to explain the unexplainable. She seeks solid ground where none can exist, and as a result, Baker can’t seem to find a sturdy core from which to build her belief.

Ambivalence is not a new condition for those who struggle with spiritual (un)certainty—or, for that matter, those who write memoirs about that struggle. After nearly three decades of indecision, Baker finally makes up her mind about her faith: she decides to hang on to God and continue to grapple with the uncertainty. For now.

Excerpted from Religion Dispatches

Written by: Mandy Van Deven, October 12th 2010

The Pillars of the Earth

gita — Thu, 07 Oct 2010 16:00:00 +0000

Directed by Sergio Mimica-Gezzan

Starz

The Pillars of the Earth is the best kind of paint-by-numbers historical fiction: while it exhausts almost every cliché of its period and genre, it is nonetheless entertaining, perfect for lovers of history, action, romance and drama. Set during the twelfth century period in England known as “the Anarchy,” The Pillars of the Earth comes complete with lustful monks, displaced monarchs, incest, power-mongering, jealousy, greed, rape and treachery.

The upside for female viewers, who might normally feel marginalized by run-of-the-mill historical epics, is that despite the fact that its running time of eight hours is jam-packed with said themes, the film still manages to include interesting female characters. And even though all of the characters have been created using a twenty-first century perspective, rather than one contemporary to the story, they pique our interest as to whether or not collective humanity has evolved much since the days of Catholic indulgences.

The central plot revolves around the building of a Gothic cathedral at a priory run by a monk with good intentions. One of Prior Philip’s good deeds is to rescue a resourceful fleece merchant Aliena, a noblewoman who was raised by her mother to choose her own destiny. She not only becomes an entrepreneurial force to be reckoned with, while trying to restore the noble status of herself and her brother, a battling knight; she also attracts the attention of several young men, two with ill intent. Whether it is because they resent or covet her power and independence, Aliena falls victim to rape and violence. This begs the question that modern women have been asking for over a century: can a woman be both independent and loved? Many feminists struggle with reconciling heterosexual love with financial/emotional/intellectual freedom.

Aliena probably would not have thought of her situation in this way, but the series does, especially as it juxtaposes her against two other independent women: Lady Regan Hamleigh, mother to Aliena’s first suitor turned rapist, and Ellen, a supposed witch and mother to Aliena’s true love. Hamleigh, despite a physical deformity that renders her largely unattractive, is able to manipulate the men around her using her sexuality and flattery. She is one of the masterminds behind many of the evil deeds that thwart construction of the cathedral.

Ellen, a disgraced novice who fled her nunnery after conceiving her son Jack, is unique in that she is literate and multilingual. She is thought to be a witch and is consequently feared by many, mainly because she makes a habit of “cursing” those who cross her, and speaks openly about sexuality. When summing up her faith in God to Prior Philip, she says: “I love God, though I don’t worship her quite the same way as you do. My church hasn’t as many rules as yours and is a lot more forgiving. And as for morality, I use love as my compass, which Christ seemed to approve of even if you don’t.”

Conventional motherhood is constantly challenged in The Pillars of the Earth, especially when the most nurturing “mother” turns out to be a monk named Johnny Eightpence, who saves an abandoned baby after his biological mother’s untimely death in childbirth. Eightpence nurses baby Jonathan with goat’s milk and hugs him close during his fledgling years, much to the bewilderment of those around them, masculine stoicism being the social expectation for men. In this story, women rebel against established authorities and men cower under the weight of chaos. It all leaves me wondering if things would have been different were women the wielders of swords?

The acting is generally fine with standout performances from Hayley Atwell (Aliena) and Eddie Redmayne (Jack). The production is atmospheric and sufficiently gritty, though film stock would have brought out the nuances of the sets and costumes better than the HD Video that was employed. The screenplay was adapted by John Pielmeier (Agnes of God) from the novel by Ken Follett; all episodes were directed by Sergio Mimica-Gezzan. The series benefits from the persistence of vision of single creators in both categories as its rhythm and style are consistent throughout. However, Pillars feels pinched for time with many major characters. Pielmeier dwells too long on the details of the war between competing monarchs—background information that viewers can research—and sacrifices quality time with the elaborate fictional world of Kingsbridge. All in all, The Pillars of the Earth is entertaining enough to keep viewers hooked for two months and could have stretched longer.

Written by: Rachel Moehl, October 7th 2010

Amen, Amen, Amen: Memoir of a Girl Who Couldn’t Stop Praying

mandy — Tue, 05 Oct 2010 16:00:00 +0000

By Abby Sher

Simon & Schuster

How does an eleven-year-old girl cope with the trauma of losing both her favorite aunt and her beloved father in the span of one calendar year? She may pray to God daily to ask Him to protect her loved ones. But what happens when prayer becomes more than just a comfort? What happens when it becomes a compulsion? This question is at the heart of Abby Sher’s memoir Amen, Amen, Amen.

The power of prayer has been the subject of much debate and research, with studies claiming that prayer can help heal the sick, even when the sick person has no relation to the people offering the curative incantation, nor knowledge of being prayed for. There are other studies that show people who pray experience feelings of relief: it makes sense that prayer could benefit those for whom religion is personally significant. If it’s good for people, even if it’s not provably efficacious, what’s the harm?

Abby Sher’s compulsions began when she was a small child—from tearing up paper napkins at the dinner table to tracing the wallpaper on her bedroom walls until her finger bruised. The impulses grew more invasive as Sher got older and calamity became a fixture in her life. An emotionally fragile pre-adolescent, Abby identified herself as the one to blame for the unexpected deaths in her family, and turned to God for help. But her sense of consolation was quickly overshadowed by a consuming fear of causing death and danger. Abby became convinced that giving herself fully to God and doing His protective bidding was the only way to ensure that no one else would meet an untimely, tragic fate.

For all the benefits that prayer might offer, it does not guarantee safety from disaster. But Abby was certain the lives of others were her responsibility, and hinged on her pact with God. To Abby, the balance of the world rested squarely on her shoulders, and the slightest misstep on her part set in motion scenarios with disastrous consequences.

No doubt this manner of irrational thinking will sound strange to most people, religious or not, and Sher does a good job of allowing the reader an insider’s view of the logic behind her delusions. Much of her behavior fell within the bounds of what is normal, especially in a devoutly Jewish context. On the surface, Abby appeared to be a staunch, if somewhat peculiar, follower of God. It is only when we learn what was going on in her head that Sher’s actions read as bizarre instead of faithful.

Ascetics throughout history have gotten into trouble for exhibiting behaviors far more extreme than Sher’s; the difference between mystical devotion and mental illness can be hard to construe. It is primarily though a lens of psychoanalysis that compulsive ritual begins to be regarded as illegitimate or destructive. In Sher’s case, even when she began seeing a therapist, her faith served to reinforce some of her more ritualistic actions, like daily fasting—a behavior that, when decontextualized, was revealed as severe anorexia.

By the time Abby meets her savior—an atheist man who helped her see her conduct as the result of self-loathing and delusion—I was glad to let go of my knee-jerk feminist disapproval of the knight in shining armor fable. Amen, Amen, Amen is a painful yet revelatory read that had this nonbeliever sending a healing mantra into the universe for Sher and others like her who live with a form of obsessive compulsive disorder masked by religion. In another time or place, Sher might have entered a hermitage. Today she will have to settle for appearances on TV talk shows.

Excerpted from Religion Dispatches

Written by: Mandy Van Deven, October 5th 2010

Exposing One of the Greatest Intrusions of Religion into American Politics

admin — Sat, 28 Aug 2010 08:00:00 +0000

Interview with Reed Cowan

Some interviews are more timely than others. In this one, producer and filmmaker Reed Cowan explained his underlying motivation for writing, directing, and producing the critically acclaimed documentary film 8: The Mormon Proposition. Cowan also talked about the “holy war” of the Mormon Church: the fight against marriage equality.

What was your motivation for writing, directing, and producing 8:The Mormon Proposition?

I was raised a Mormon, and I still have many high level friends who are Mormon. I’ve watched and been aware of their involvement in political campaigns for a long time, like their involvement in campaigning against the Equal Rights Amendment in the 1970s and early 1980s, and now their involvement in any campaign against same-sex marriage. I wanted to tell the truth about their involvement, especially since a key strategy of theirs has been to remain in the background. Their campaign to support Proposition 8 and other measures like it has been one of the greatest intrusions of religion into politics in America, and it has been swept under the rug. I wanted to tell the truth and expose “the man behind the curtain.”

The PR department of the Mormon Church openly told us that they were “invited to participate in a coalition of faiths,” when in fact they were the ones who were doing the inviting. They invited Catholics and other religious groups to participate in a coalition to support Proposition 8. In their efforts to remain in the background while pulling all the strings, the Mormon Church has done a great disservice to other religions. I have my issues with other religions and their stance against the LGBT community as well, but what the Mormon Church has done is to send others into the battle for them. This is almost spineless, to let others take the bullets for you in what is essentially your fight. I wanted to expose that.

A key part of the documentary is exposing the financial contributions the Mormon Church made or encouraged for the “Yes on 8” campaign. To your knowledge, has the church been similarly active in campaigns in other US states where marriage equality was on the ballot?

The records that we have show Mormon involvement all over the US, and in other countries as well; most recently, in Argentina, for example. Any place where the issue of same-sex marriage comes up, the Mormon Church is active. Luckily, in Argentina, their efforts were not successful.

Marriage equality is a controversial and divisive issue, not just within the Mormon Church. Have there been any personal ramifications for you since making this documentary?

I lost my family over this film. It was like dropping a nuclear bomb on family relationships. The relationship with my sister is irreparable. The relationship with my father is irreparable. The other part of it is the hate mail, and a lot of them mention my son, Wesley. He died in a swing set accident a few years ago, and I have gotten a lot of hate mail where people mention this and tell me that I deserve what happened and that I will never see my son again.

Two days ago, a federal judge rules that Proposition 8 is unconstitutional. What is your personal reaction to this ruling?

I am thrilled that documents from our film were part of the evidence in this case and part of the debate in court. I am thrilled that this has become part of the public discourse about Proposition 8. I also feel like the LGBT community now has traction again. The ruling has given us hope. It will no doubt go all the way to the Supreme Court, so there are still more steps to be taken along the way, but it has given us hope.

Based on your knowledge of the Mormon Church and their strategies, do you expect them to continue or even ramp up their efforts in supporting the “Yes on 8” side as this case moves to the Supreme Court?

You bet! They not only have said as much, but all of the evidence we have shows that they will never stop. This is a holy war for them. They will never stop, which is why it was so important to make this film and to show what they are really all about.

Written by: Annette Przygoda, August 28th 2010