Retelling Stories: The Good, The Bad and The Ugly
Recently I've been pondering on the booming market of Womyn's Byblycal Lyterature (my most hideous example yet being The Queenmaker, a disappointing account of drama in King David's Court) because yet another novel based on the book of Genesis - Shlomit Abramson's The Book of Tamar - came out.
Those who are familiar with me know I find it hard to object to feminist retellings of stories which, particularly in the Book of Genesis, I consider a healthy and constructive practice. Also, being the product of several years of bible-studying in school, I know it can be hard to put your imagination to work in a way that will make the women in the book - with their deprived status and constant concerns for procreation - seem appealing to modern readers. Still, I did not share the public enthusiasm about The Red Tent. My familiarity with the source, and with Israel, made the stitches in the book ugly and visible, and they ruined the experience for me. My pet peeves were the "supporting characters"' names: biblical women named Orit (a modern name) and, far worse, Pesia (an Eastern European Jewish name)?! Probably named after women Anita Diamant knew and either didn't know or didn't care they were not biblical names.
But even putting aside this issue, as well as other anachronisms and silly things, I ask: why change the story of Dinah's rape into some kitschy love affair? Diamant recognizes the potential of this story as a story about chauvinism and violence (which I really think it is. Shimon and Levy are among my least favorite characters of all times), but Diamant is incapable of casting them as supposed Rightful Avengers, so she makes Schechem innocent by turning Dinah's rape into a love affair. I was very disappointed with this choice of plot, because what it really says, on some level, is that in order for Shimon and Levy's cruel and treacherous act of genocide to be, indeed, cruel and treacherous, it must be inflicted on innocents, rather than on a city whose citizen cmmitted a foul and reprehensible act of his own. I think that Diamant could have lived with the complexities of the biblical story, and it would have made the moral issues a lot more interesting for the readers.
That said, I thought The Red Tent was a valuable book, and perhaps it is my lengthy immersion in feminist spirituality that made me see as clicheic and tiresome things that were innovative and thought-provoking for folks who don't engage with these ideas on a daily basis who might have really said "wow! female bonding with the moon and Goddess-worship!" (this is not a put-down: I'm sure there's things I consider innovative and are clicheic and tiresome to others, who deal with them on a permanent basis. Just think how many dissertation people wrote whose topics we know nothing about and would really, really be psyched about). But this new Book of Tamar thing is basically a telenovela, the elements it adds to, and changes in, the biblical story, are cheap and sentimental, the period research is as shallow as a poodle, the characters unbelievable, altogether a deep disappointment. So much more could be done with a story about such a resourceful and original woman, who uses the only tool available to her, sex, to fight the oppressive social order of the time. Not to mention, again, the names: Tabitha? Ilay ("sublime")? There are some good moments. but not very many.
Thomas Mann's version is, of course, masterful, but everyone there seems to be so heavy and serious, and there's so little reality of tribal life (where, where are the women?) and too much self-importance ascribed to the characters. In short, I remain a fan of Meir Shalev, and in the case of King David's court, of Joseph Heller, I guess. I'm kind of disappointed. I expected more from this literary revolution.
Those who are familiar with me know I find it hard to object to feminist retellings of stories which, particularly in the Book of Genesis, I consider a healthy and constructive practice. Also, being the product of several years of bible-studying in school, I know it can be hard to put your imagination to work in a way that will make the women in the book - with their deprived status and constant concerns for procreation - seem appealing to modern readers. Still, I did not share the public enthusiasm about The Red Tent. My familiarity with the source, and with Israel, made the stitches in the book ugly and visible, and they ruined the experience for me. My pet peeves were the "supporting characters"' names: biblical women named Orit (a modern name) and, far worse, Pesia (an Eastern European Jewish name)?! Probably named after women Anita Diamant knew and either didn't know or didn't care they were not biblical names.
But even putting aside this issue, as well as other anachronisms and silly things, I ask: why change the story of Dinah's rape into some kitschy love affair? Diamant recognizes the potential of this story as a story about chauvinism and violence (which I really think it is. Shimon and Levy are among my least favorite characters of all times), but Diamant is incapable of casting them as supposed Rightful Avengers, so she makes Schechem innocent by turning Dinah's rape into a love affair. I was very disappointed with this choice of plot, because what it really says, on some level, is that in order for Shimon and Levy's cruel and treacherous act of genocide to be, indeed, cruel and treacherous, it must be inflicted on innocents, rather than on a city whose citizen cmmitted a foul and reprehensible act of his own. I think that Diamant could have lived with the complexities of the biblical story, and it would have made the moral issues a lot more interesting for the readers.
That said, I thought The Red Tent was a valuable book, and perhaps it is my lengthy immersion in feminist spirituality that made me see as clicheic and tiresome things that were innovative and thought-provoking for folks who don't engage with these ideas on a daily basis who might have really said "wow! female bonding with the moon and Goddess-worship!" (this is not a put-down: I'm sure there's things I consider innovative and are clicheic and tiresome to others, who deal with them on a permanent basis. Just think how many dissertation people wrote whose topics we know nothing about and would really, really be psyched about). But this new Book of Tamar thing is basically a telenovela, the elements it adds to, and changes in, the biblical story, are cheap and sentimental, the period research is as shallow as a poodle, the characters unbelievable, altogether a deep disappointment. So much more could be done with a story about such a resourceful and original woman, who uses the only tool available to her, sex, to fight the oppressive social order of the time. Not to mention, again, the names: Tabitha? Ilay ("sublime")? There are some good moments. but not very many.
Thomas Mann's version is, of course, masterful, but everyone there seems to be so heavy and serious, and there's so little reality of tribal life (where, where are the women?) and too much self-importance ascribed to the characters. In short, I remain a fan of Meir Shalev, and in the case of King David's court, of Joseph Heller, I guess. I'm kind of disappointed. I expected more from this literary revolution.