My Blog

Category: Meander

  • The 5 Books Meander, Week 5 (Ḥayyei Sarah)

    In brief:
    Ḥayyei Sarah translates to “Life of Sarah.” This section focuses on Sarah’s passing, the arrival of Rebekah, and Abraham’s passing and burial. It surprised me that the story of Sarah’s passing would be referred to as “life of Sarah.” A minute or two of searching around, and our old friend wikipedia offered up an answer:

    “Each weekly Torah portion takes its name from the first distinctive word in the Hebrew text of the portion in question, often from the first verse.”

    And in fact, the translation I’m using begins with “Sarah’s lifetime–the span of Sarah’s life–came to one hundred and twenty-seven years.” Perhaps this is just how things fell into place. But there’s some kindness about that naming nonetheless, death and life intermixed.

    Things start off this week with an exceptionally respectful negotiation between Abraham and the Hittites for a burial spot. Abraham’s servant is then sent to find Isaac a wife among Abraham’s kinsmen, and another gracious encounter occurs by the well. A story I must have heard a dozen times growing up. Take care of the stranger. And his camel too! The section closes with the burial of Abraham, perhaps the most beautiful passage in Genesis thus far.

    A few thoughts:

    • This week’s portion was good for the soul. Or at least, my soul was appreciative. The Hittites and Abraham are remarkably kind to each other, even though Abraham is not from ’round these parts. (Which reminds me: why hasn’t anyone remade Genesis as a Western yet? Or maybe they have and I didn’t pick up on the rivers rising, the raven flying, and that durn snake?)
    • Abraham’s servant goes looking for kindness, and I loved that while there’s a specific sentence he was asking God for, like some coded phrase between East Berlin spies, in the end Rebekah uses different words. And it doesn’t matter. The meaning matters. The kindness matters.
    • In a brief respite from all this kindness, Rebekah’s family wishes for her:

      “O sister!
      May you grow
      Into thousands of myriads
      May your offspring seize
      The gates of their foes.”

      But I get it — not everyone says goodbye well.

    • And then there’s the burial of Abraham, an exceptionally gentle moment that I am still thinking about. Abraham dies:

      “at a good ripe age [aside: what a wild image that is — our ripening–one we hear so much we forget its power.], old and contented, and he was gathered to his kin. His sons Isaac and Ishmael buried him in the cave of Machpelah… there Abraham was buried, and Sarah his wife.”

      The image that caught me was Isaac and Ishmael standing together. In all these years, all the times I’ve heard versions of this story, that essential detail never sunk in. Ishmael and Isaac, their family’s painful history behind them. Putting it aside to pay respects.

    If you’d like to join in… this is the place for comments and commentary on Ḥayyei-Sarah (Gen 23.1 – 25.18)
    Next up: Toledot (Gen 25.19 – 28.9)
    -Cecil

  • The 5 Books Meander, Week 4 (Va-Yera’)

    In brief:
    3 wise men visit Abraham and Sarah and make Sarah laugh, which seems to perplex or perhaps annoy God, who is super no-nonsense about the whole thing (I did not laugh, says Sarah. And God replies, “You did laugh.” So you know, cut it out.)

    The more likable Abraham I remember from my childhood makes an appearance, negotiating against the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. Spoiler alert: Don’t get attached to Sodom and Gomorrah.

    Lot’s wife looks back and is punished both by being turned to salt and by being deprived a name. Henceforth she is simply: “Lot’s wife.”

    Sarah has Hagar and Ishmael cast out, but Abraham and God make sure they and their descendants are cared for and will be a Nation. Which brings us to the binding of Isaac. On which, more below…

    • A few thoughts:

    • A Torah-reading pal (TRP) of mine pointed out a great quirk I’d missed — Abraham serves his guests milk and meat, a meal that’s treif aka not kosher. I looked around for interpretations and found two I especially enjoyed: (1) Perhaps Abraham wasn’t kosher because hadn’t been given the laws/mitzvot yet, and he’s not accountable for rules that came after his time. (2) In the Talmud it says that Abraham was kosher, in which case, perhaps just because he was kosher didn’t mean he had to ask his guests to follow his rules. Both are lovely thoughts with implications that are as profound as you like ’em to be.
    • Abraham talk with his son in the binding of Isaac is almost overwhelming sad. Where is the sheep for the sacrifice? young Isaac asks. “And Abraham said, ‘God will see to the sheep for His burnt offering, my son.’ And the two of them walked on together.” Sad beyond sad. Even just typing it here, my fingers feel weighted.
    • That said, this is also part of what I am loving. As my TRP said to me this week, the people in Genesis are not paragons. They are complex. God is complex. Even God seems to question Himself, asking no one in particular “Shall I hide from Abraham what I am about to do…?” [that is: the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah]. The murkiness in these pages is a big part of why I’m enjoying this Meander so much. There’s plenty of good and evil in the world. But most people fall somewhere in between, however they act in any particular moment. And that murkiness, the good in each of us, is also the reason we keep at it and strive for the light.

    If you’d like to join in… this is the place for comments and commentary on Va-Yera’ (Gen 18.1 – 22.24)
    Next up: Ḥayyei-Sarah (Gen 23.1 – 25.18)
    -Cecil

  • The Midnight’s Children Meander, Week 12

    This is a post of gratitude.

    A big overdue thank you to all for joining this trek. Grueling at times, for sure. But I feel like many of the folks on the thread do — weirdly proud to have this book under my belt thirty years after I never got around to reading it in college. And there’s no way I would have made it without the good times of your Meandership.

    More than this one ride, I’m grateful for the fun and distraction we’ve had together on all three of this year’s group reads. Holy cow, this has been a year. I’m kind of shocked at the full-body relief I felt today (writing this Saturday, Nov 7), when the news broke.

    It has been several years of teeth gritting, capped by eight months of sparks flying from all that molar grinding. And with all that, this weekly tradition and very mighty crew of smart, funny, and resilient groovies have brought some welcome extra focus and much needed brain-u-tainment. I hope it was a similarly sometimes grueling but worthwhile distraction for youse too!

    As for Midnight’s Children, it turned out to be almost nothing like I’d imagined. Similar to thread-peeps, I felt like I was often getting about a third of what Rushdie was dishing up. But I dug it. And I thought it ended especially strong and satisfying. Downright tidy even, especially for a book that frequently felt like we were racing a wheelbarrow of chickens through the woods, something I’d really like to get around to doing one of these days. Heck, it was so tidy, even the extra pickle jar was accounted for. (Another full-body relief!)

    And with all those prophecies, all those madcap-recaps, it landed very nicely in the here and now.

    Which works for me today. After several years of living in the past and stressing about the future, I’m delighted to have read this book, and it’s lovely to be here now today, savoring the weirdness of it all, and looking forward to future reads.

    And with that, I’ll end as I began: with gratitude.

    What’s next: If folks are interested, I’ll likely aim to pick up these shenanigans on the other side of the new year — in February or March.

    A few of us have also started meandering through the Five Books of Moses. Anyone looking for a distraction of that sort any time in the next year is encouraged to hop in for a stretch. We’ll be here, meandering away…

    Um, magnets? Yep, you can bet there’s a Midnight’s Children magnet coming — I’ll post it as soon as it’s ready to roll. Also, non-US friends, we have some customs paperwork to fill out and overdue collectibles will be en route over the ocean soon!

    And this? This is the place for any last thoughts on Midnight’s Children or perhaps sharing what you’ll be reading next….

    Thanks excellent peeps and happy day!
    -Cecil

  • The 5 Books Meander, Week 3 (Lekh-Lekha)

    In brief:
    Far from the simple shepherd I’ve always pictured, So-called Abram turns out to be complex — a wealthy man, a traveller, a warrior, a slaveowner. Also Lots’ uncle. And a bit quick to say his wife is his sister.

    Moses gets foreshadowed. Hagar gets set up, but then she and Ishmael and their descendants are blessed.

    Abraham and Sarah are given new names, and that’s not the most dramatic change in the household, as the men experience an exceptionally memorable afternoon.

    A few thoughts:

    • The way Abram as slave owner is casually discussed unnerved me. There’s no moral layer to it. Just an accepted fact, that humans owned other humans.
    • On the other hand, the importance of having offspring as plentiful as sand and stars was sort of primal and joyous. Multiplying ourselves as prime directive. And there’s the redeeming notion that your reward might be paid to future generations. A positive flip on the idea of punishing people for the sins of their ancestors.
    • Gen 15.1: “Fear not, Abram, I am a shield to you.” Just beautiful.

    If you’d like to join in… this is the place for comments and commentary on Lekh-Lekha (Gen 12.1 – 17.27)
    Next up: Va-Yera’ (Gen 18.1 – 22.24)
    -Cecil

  • The Midnight’s Children Meander, Week 11

    This week it seemed like history and fiction were spinning faster and faster together in a tight grip, all I’m sure leading to a dizzying conclusion.

    We also got another quick recap of much of what’s happened before, another mad dose of the rhythm Rushdie has been laying down throughout. Back and forth, back and forth — prophecy and recap and prophecy. DJ Rushdie on the 1s and 2s and 1s.

    Also, am I the only one who thought that meeting a man who “resembled a large and bearded onion” was inevitable? I was like: finally!

    One last thought: After Meandering through two faux memoirs in a row (See also: The Blind Assassin Meander) I’m wondering if the faux-memoir genre has some built-in limitations. It’s hard-wired to be an ego trip. There are no female characters who seem real in Midnight’s Children, but I’m not sure there’s anyone besides our faux memoirist who has three full dimensions.

    Still, very glad to be finally reading this book after all these many years. And equally delighted to be headed toward…

    …the last five-chip whopper: What say we meet at the back cover, where we may or may not find “peace.” As always, I believe deeply in you and your complicated-book-completion skills!

    And this? This is the place for comments on really anything you’d like vis a vis Midnight’s Children.

  • The 5 Books Meander, Week 2 (Noaḥ)

    Another wonderful section this week.

    A few thoughts:

    • Much like Seth, the Raven could use more/better PR. On the other hand, the animals that creep are getting tons of screen time.
    • Holding the child responsible for the sins of the parents. A simple idea with a sad legacy.
    • The Flood may have been 40 days and nights, but it took months for the waters to recede. Repair can take longer than destruction. On my mind at this particular moment in US history.
    • There’s something lovely about the idea that the rainbow isn’t there just as a covenant but also to remind God. God the Mighty. God the Just. God the Sometimes Forgetful but Also Self-Aware.

    If you’d like to join in… this is the place for comments and commentary on Noaḥ aka Gen 6.9 – 11.32…
    Next up: Lekh Lekha aka Gen 12.1 – 17.27
    -Cecil

  • The Midnight’s Children Meander, Week 10

    Oh my goodness we are close to the finish line!

    Meanwhile, I’ve been busy writing my thesis on pickles and Midnight’s Children, aptly titled, Midnight’s Pickles. Pickle-shaped noses aside, this section was a particularly rich source of literary dill.

    Twenty-six pickle-jars stand gravely on a shelf; twenty-six special blends, each with its identifying label, neatly inscribed with familiar phrases: “Movements Performed by Pepperpots,” for instance, or “Alpha and Omega,” or “Commander Sabarmati’s Baton.” Twenty-six rattle eloquently when local trains go yellow and browning past; on my desk, five empty jars tinkle urgently, reminding me of my uncompleted task. But now I cannot linger over empty pickle-jars; the night is for words, and green chutney must wait its turn.

    We’ve all been eating a lot of pickles, these last several weeks, it’s true. And you know, three jars of pickles is one thing. But twenty-six jars is something else entirely. With five to go.

    Only… there are thirty chapters in this book, not thirty-one. I counted three times.

    Another mystery to be solved?

    And then there’s this:

    Of my last miserable contact with the brutal intimacies of family life, only fragments remain; however since it all must be set down and subsequently pickled, I shall attempt to piece together an account.

    I loved that. Writing as pickling. Experience plus vinegar, salt, sugar, dill, garlic, onion, and time.

    Now maybe it’s just the waft of all this pickle-broth that’s clouded my thinking, but it feels like this could be a good time to catch our breath before we wrap, and perhaps give a few folks a little time to catch up as well.

    All to say: Let’s meet at the end of the section entitled “The Wedding” (aka page 484 in the Random House paperback), where someone “really had it in for” someone. (A mere 20 pages hence, as we prepare for the grand finale!)

    And this? This is the place for comments on section 3.5.

    And also: “castellated” is defined by Merriam-Webster as “having battlements like a castle.” Which seems a little lazy as word-creation goes. But, ok.

    As well as: “fissiparous(ness)”; Merriam-Webster: “tending to break or split up into parts” (ness).

  • The 5 Books Meander, Week 1 (Bereshit)

    In the Jewish tradition, there’s this idea of Torah portions — parashot plural and parashah singular — that you read each week for about a year. And it starts this week. This very one! Right now!

    With a couple other family members, I’m embarking on this wee adventure, to get from front cover to back, as part of a larger series I call: “Finally reading books I was supposed to read in college and didn’t finish.”

    Getting ready to dive in, I realized that this is sort of the world’s largest Meander. The Original Meander. A big text, broken into smallish weekly pieces, read by a multitude. For it turns out there is, in fact, nothing new under the sun…

    Anyways, in that Meander-ish spirit, I thought I’d try to capture a few notes here each week.

    If you’d like to join with your own observations for any part of the way — a parashah, or two, or twenty — all are welcome…!

    This week: Bereshit (Genesis 1.1 – 6.8)

    What a beautiful section. We meet the creeping animals. And the flying ones. Lots and lots of creeping animals. That seems to be important. The sky and the sea. The stars that guide us. God the decisive, God the judging, and God the just. Swift but not cruel. “Here’s some clothes.” (paraphrasing)

    And we meet flawed humans a plenty.

    A few thoughts that stuck:

    • “They heard the sound of the Lord God moving about in the Garden at the breezy time of day…” just a wonderful sense-image that’s lasted through the years.
    • All credit to him for being the first Man and everything, but Adam is also kind of the first jerk. I’m pretty sure he threw both Eve and God under that bus in one move.
    • Pro tip: do not get attached to Abel.
    • Seth on the other hand needs a much better PR agent. It might as well have been Cain, Abel, and Steve. Or Chauncey. Have you heard of so-called Seth? I hadn’t. Turns out he’s a big deal.

    Overall, my head was spinning after the first few pages, in the best way. Sweeping text. Copious plot. The serpent shows up like 2 minutes in! Drama!

    Eden turns out to be Iraq, which was news to me. They basically drew a map for us with a big X on it. There’s gold there! And bdellium! (bdellium: “a fragrant resin produced by a number of trees related to myrrh, used in perfume.”) Road trip?

    Also, the Nephilim were a complete curveball. Which just goes to show that I’ve fallen asleep during a few crucial episodes of Supernatural.

    Speaking of curveballs, what’s up with this: “the divine beings saw how beautiful the daughters of men were and took wives from among those that pleased them”? (6.2) I mean, I can’t even.

    Head: spinning. Happy to be reading. Onward!

    If you’d like to join in… This is the place for comments and commentary on Bereshit (Gen 1 – 6.8).
    Next up: (a man called) Noaḥ (Gen 6.9 – 11.32)
    -Cecil

    -Cecil

  • The Midnight’s Children Meander, Week 9

    Well, I cheated. Held off posting for an extra day to buy myself more time. But I finally caught up with you mighty Meanderers! And props to folks who are still reading and just a little bit behind. I am not in a judging mood, my friends. None of us perfectly pure. Faulty towels one and all, over-fed a tad on the piaya of prophecies, perhaps.

    There was lots of truth in the thread this week, as ever — we marvel at the language. Many of us are glad to be reading this book. Many of us feel like “meander” is starting to sound a bit sarcastic.

    Computillo hit it on the head when she said:

    Despite the fact that many of us often feel lost in the detail of this novel, I see now that every detail has been critical. Every detail is “organized into one damn thing.”

    I continue to swoon a bit over the way everything comes back again, usually 7 or 8 times.

    Like Jeff, I was in a little bit of awe at the end of Book Two. Despite the carnage, I felt relief at a gazillion prophecies finally made real, resolved. Tidy.

    But then of course, we met the man-dog. The hound-guy? You know who I mean. The children called him big nose. And so here we are back in the vortex with a new slew of onions to peel. Or as the pooch-person calls ’em: coming-soon featurettes…

    Either way, we’re getting wildly close to the close, Meander-mates (tone: sarcasm-free!). We can do this. You can do this. I’m starting to think even I can do this!

    But before we do that: Let’s meet at the end of the section entitled “The Shadow of the Mosque” (aka page 464 in the Random House paperback), where “God knows what to do with that poor girl.”

    And here? Here be the post for comments on sections 3.2 through 3.4.

    And also: “enuresis” is defined by Merriam-Webster as… No. No, I don’t think I’m going to define that one.

  • The Midnight’s Children Meander, Week 8

    Friends, I have no one to blame but myself! I set us an ambitious goal and like a few fellow Meanderers, this is the week that tripped me up.

    Perhaps both the book and real life had just a little more plot than my brain was ready to handle. 🙂

    With your indulgence, I’ll go perhaps a little easy on us (aka me) with this week’s page target, and aim to rejoin you all at the next roadstop. Speaking of which….

    The next roadstop: Let’s gather our ponies and/or kick up our sandals at the end of the section entitled “The Buddha” (aka page 413 in the Random House paperback), where something “swallows them up.”

    And this? This is the post for comments on sections 2.15 through 3.1.

    And also: Wikipedia tells us that “Shakespeare’s phrase, ‘hoist with his own petard,’ is an idiom that means ‘to be harmed by one’s own plan to harm someone else’ or ‘to fall into one’s own trap,’ implying that one could be lifted (blown) upward by one’s own bomb, or in other words, be foiled by one’s own plan.”