Children of the Book

“Books, even works of genius, are not incandescent orbs that exist independently in some kind of ether. For books to have enduring value, they must be read by people. For those readers to exist, they must be born and raised.”

Was a pleasure to review Ilana Kurshan’s fantastic new book for the Summer issue of Tradition, now available online.

Three Ways in Which Operation Rising Lion is a Lot Like Narnia

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From the deluge of fascinating news from Israel’s remarkably successful “Rising Lion” operation against the Iranian regime, one interesting tidbit relates to children’s literature, of all things. According to the Israeli newspaper Yediot Ahronot, IDF intelligence began to assemble a list of the leading scientists driving the Iranian nuclear weapon program in 2022, and their research efforts were given the secret code name “Narnia.” At 3:00 am on June 13, when the Israeli Air Force swiftly eliminated 10 of these scientists, along with striking the Natanz nuclear plant and other military targets, the operation was officially dubbed “Operation Narnia.”

a blue book with a picture of a man walking through the woods
Photo by Tim Alex on Unsplash

In describing the operation, the Jerusalem Post writes that name “reflects the operation’s improbable nature, like something out of a fantasy tale rather than a real-world event.” Indeed, it was hard to believe that the same country that suffered such devastating losses on October 7 due to intelligence failures could execute such a meticulously planned and perfectly executed military offensive. Yet there are many fantasy tales, and the name Narnia is much more than a metonym for all that is improbable or unlikely to occur. Could it be that somewhere in Israeli intelligence circles there is a fantasy geek who specifically chose this code name to evoke a specific connection with the literary world of Narnia? Perhaps. In the meantime, Israeli schools and all other activities are cancelled and we are stuck at home. So I find myself reading Narnia with some of my kids, perhaps for the third time. In our bleary-eyed and underslept state thanks to 2:00 am trips to the safe room, these are the connections that seem to emerge:

1- Narnia is Israel and Calormen is Iran

man sitting beside river painting
Photo by British Library on Unsplash

While some readers of Narnia stop at the famous first book, The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, the later books in Lewis’ series introduce us to other lands and cultures which surround Narnia and in doing so offer pointed parallels to the geopolitics of Lewis’ own time. One of these countries is a Middle-Eastern type of desert nation called Calormen, characterized by a hodgepodge of Persian and Arabian motifs: “The Calormenes have dark faces and long beards. They wear flowing robes and orange-coloured turbans, and they are a wise, wealthy, courteous, cruel and ancient people”. Calormenes have many admirable qualities, like a rich culture of storytelling to which Lewis’ narrator is obviously sympathetic, and splendid landscaping and food. Yet while it may outshine Narnia on the material front, it lacks basic freedoms which prevents the full flourishing of its people. Everyone in the society understands their place in a rigid hierarchical structure, and all are required to slavishly try to curry favor with their vainglorious leader the Tisroc. In the capital city Tashbaan, “there is only one traffic regulation, which is that everyone who is less important has to get out of the way for everyone who is more important; unless you want a cut from a whip or punch from the butt end of a spear.” When a poor boy raised in Calormen is mistakenly identified by the Narnians as a member of their party he is smitten with these joyful, bright-eyed people who seem to live without paranoia and insecurity. Yet he can’t help but lie about his identity, as the narrator explains: “he had, you see, no idea of how noble and free-born people behave.”

The individuals we meet in Calormen aren’t all that bad, but centuries reared in a culture where deception and obsequiousness, rather than hard work and talent, are needed to get ahead certainly takes its toll on the moral character of the society. Lewis contrasts this with Narnia, where freedom is cherished, and consequently people develop virtues like courage, honesty and kindness.

Now Narnia may be intended as a stand-in for Lewis’s own England, but in the spirit of William Blake’s “Till we have built Jerusalem / In England’s green & pleasant Land,” I believe there are some parallels with Israel too. While Israel is certainly influenced by its Middle-Eastern surroundings, it is an informal culture where people by and large have the freedom to speak their mind and determine their own destinies. Unlike nearly every other great military power in history, it never set its sight on building empire and controlling other nations. Like Narnia, it is content with merely perpetuating its own way of life within its own borders. Thus it remains a mystery why countries like Iran seek its destruction so vehemently and for so long. If it remains baffling to us, King Edmund of Narnia does offer a kind of answer. In trying to make sense of the curious urge in Calormen to wage war on Narnia, Edmund observes: “We are a little land. And little lands on the borders of a great empire were always hateful to the lords of the great empire. He longs to blot them out, gobble them up” (A Horse and His Boy, p. 68).

Israel right now is doing a lot to make Iran angry, but this anger predates airstrikes in Tehran by decades, and is rooted in the same lust for empire that C.S. Lewis observed during his own dark times. Our response must be the same as it is in the world of Narnia, to push back against Islamic expansionism through military defense, and also to cherish all of the qualities that make our culture unique and worth preserving.

2- Rising Lion

brown lion
Photo by Mika Brandt on Unsplash

When Narnians go into battle, the symbol that is displayed on their flags and shields is a lion. The lion of course is a reference to Aslan, the spiritual icon of Narnia and a Christological metaphor. The reason Jesus is associated with a lion is rooted in the Bible of course, “the lion of Judah,” and in Judaism lions are associated with kingship and sovereignty. Thus it’s also not surprising that “rising lion” is the name and symbol of the current Israeli campaign. The name “Rising Lion,” which is a translation of “Am KiLavi Yakum,” derives from the Prophet Balaam’s blessings of the People of Israel in the book of Numbers: “Behold, a people that rises like a lioness and raises itself like a lion. It does not lie down until it eats its prey and drinks the blood of the slain.” (Num. 23:24) Some unhinged Israel haters have pointed to this verse as proof of Israeli thirst for atrocities. The verse is obviously meant to be symbolic, but the truth is, lions are fearsome creatures who devour their prey. And we have learned over the past twenty months that, in order to defeat evil and restore peace and order to the world, we must be stronger and fiercer than our enemies. This does not always look nice. But that does not mean that it is not a moral posture. Here too, the Narnian parallel can be illuminating. When Susan first learns about the great lion of Narnia she is understandably scared: “Is he—quite safe?” I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.” Mr. Beaver responds: “Safe? . . . Who said anything about safe? Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King I tell you” (The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, p. 80.)

The current IDF campaign in Iran, and even more so, the extended war against Hamas in Gaza, contains visuals that are terrible and painful to behold. But as Lewis’s narrator reminds us, “People who have not been in Narnia sometimes think that a thing cannot be good and terrible at the same time.” What lions symbolize, in the Bible, in the world of fantasy and right now, is the way in which ferocity and justice must, in certain circumstances, work hand in hand. Critics of Israel’s campaign who are supposedly driven by religious pacifism may also take note another verse in Balaam’s litany of blessings directed at the Jewish people: He crouches and lies like a lion and like a lioness; who will dare rouse him? Those who bless you shall be blessed, and those who curse you shall be cursed” (Num, 24:9)

3-Pacifism is Not a Virtue

This brings me to a final point about some of the well-meaning critics, many of them Christian, of Israel’s courageous campaign against evil and America’s supporting role in that effort. While many fairy tales end with a vague “happily ever after,” Lewis takes care to remind us at the end of the Lion, the King and the Wardrobe how the four Pevensie children, now turned kings and queens, spend their days making good laws, keeping the peace, and waging honorable battles in defense of their beloved Narnia. The first progressive in the series is their annoying cousin Eustace Clarence Scrubb, who surfaces in the Voyage of the Dawn Treader when he accidentally gets sucked into a grand voyage with Edmund and Lucy through a painting. Eustace is just awful, a bully and a stick-in-the-mud who has no use for the grand adventures of the sort for which the Pevensie children live. Eustace’s coddled upbringing has given him few opportunities to appreciate the real dangers that exist in the world, although this thankfully changes when he is turned into a dragon. The privilege of distance from danger allows him the freedom to antagonize everyone around him and avoid retribution by declaring “I’m a pacifist. I don’t believe in fighting.”

Lewis was, indeed, critical of those who could never distinguish between a just war and pointless bloodbath. He viewed this problem as similar to an inability to distinguish good from evil. As early as 1940, Lewis delivered a lecture to the pacifist society at Oxford University entitled “Why I am Not a Pacifist,” in which he articulates, from various angles, a justification for wars that need to be fought in order to protect higher values. This does not make the realities of war any less terrible. Yet only by recognizing human necessity can one begin to improve things.

Lewis says:

To avert or postpone one particular war by wise policy, or to render one particular campaign shorter by strength and skill or less terrible by mercy to the conquered and the civilians is more useful than all the proposals for universal peace that have ever been made; just as the dentist who can stop one toothache has deserved better of humanity than all the men who think they have some scheme for producing a perfectly healthy race.

To try to fight a better war, or a shorter or more precise war in which less civilians are killed, is a noble virtue. To avoid war altogether, in all circumstances, is simply a pipe dream that, as Lewis says in the same lecture, will result in “[handing] over the state which does tolerate Pacifists to its totalitarian neighbour who does not.”

Lewis’ analysis applies perfectly to Israel’s situation in its seven front war from Gaza to Iran. The war we fight now is intended to prevent future wars, to invite peace and prosperity to this beleaguered region as well as to other parts of the world. We are not waiting for a lion to save us from “beyond the sea.” We are an “am shel ariyot,” a nation of lions, fighting our hardest on behalf of our highest values. May the current conflict and this larger war come to a speedy, victorious and decisive conclusion.

Faith and Art in Communist Russia

Anatoly Kaplan was the rare Jewish artist who managed to explore Jewish themes under the eyes of Soviet censors

My review of a wonderful art exhibit at Beit Avi Chai which appeared in the Fall 2023 Issue of Lubavitch International Magazine was recently posted to the web. The exhibit is called “The Enchanted Artist” and it was a the first major exhibit in Israel devoted to the artwork of Anatoly Kaplan, who according to the curators was “the only artist in the Soviet Union to put Jewish culture at the forefront of his work and to be recognized by the Soviet regime despite that.” Kaplan’s paintings are remarkable for how nimbly they incorporate Jewish themes while evading the Soviet censors, and they are also simply remarkable in their own right. It was a pleasure to learn more about Kaplan and also think about how the pressures that weighed upon Kaplan also drove the evolution of Chabad Lubavitch itself: “In a sense, Chabad’s collective memory and ethos were forged in the crucible of communism, in the midst of immense hardship that led to heroism—the sheer difficulty of Jewish observance driving home its precious necessity.”

“In a gray, dimly lit room, a mother ties a red kerchief atop her daughter’s school dress. Behind them, even more deeply in shadow, sits a bearded man wrapped in a traditional black and white tallit, bent over a prayerbook. 

The scene seems innocent enough, and yet, small details hint to the influence of powerful forces beyond the domestic sphere: The red kerchief was an obligatory symbol of membership in the Communist youth movement. The religious man is surrounded by two red curtains, which both serve to frame his figure and also suggest that he may need to hide at a moment’s notice. Even in 1976, when this painting was created by Russian-Jewish artist Anatoly Kaplan, it was nearly impossible to be an observant Jew in the Soviet Union. Like much of Kaplan’s work, Interior draws us into a world of tensions, memories, and contradictions inherent in the experience of Jews in Communist Russia.”

Read the full article at Lubavitch.com.

Invest in Your Future Family: A Mommash Parenting Podcast

While podcasts are not yet entirely in my comfort zone, I appreciated the invitation to talk to Lori Fein Ramirez about family life and some of challenges as well as opportunities that we’ve encountered. Lori’s hilarious summary below:

Sarah Rindner Blum, an author, literature professor, and mother to a “steps and stairs” family of seven children in twelve years, shares her insights on why having “one more kid” is worth the investment. Join us for deep reflections on how each child offers something unique and priceless, how different roles for mom and dad make it work, Israeli vs. American cultural attitudes toward children, why Shabbat is the center of her homemaking all week long, spontaneity versus planning, lots of candy, her semi-broken set of devices for her family, some favorite children’s books, making literature a part of your family lore, her trash-into-treasures child, a mouse named Bob, having a home life different than you had imagined, why there’s nothing like an American minivan, and why a Jewish mama only needs to cook once a week.

Feel free to give it a listen on Spotify, Apple, or wherever you listen to your podcasts, and make sure to follow Mommash: The Oy and Joy of Parenting for loads of wonderful parenting wisdom.

Covid-19 and J.K. Rowling’s The Ickabog

At the height of the coronavirus pandemic last April, when celebrities around the world were lecturing us via tweet to stay home and wear a mask, British novelist J. K. Rowling took a different approach. As kids were forced to forego school and interactions with friends, she published a new children’s book and released it in free installments for families stuck at home. The novel, The Ickabog, was published in full this past Thanksgiving. Proceeds from sales of the book are donated to communities hurt most by COVID-19.

Rowling has said that the Ickabog story first came to her years ago, when her own children were young. She wrote the book during the period in which she wrote the Harry Potter books, and claims to have made no serious modifications since that time. Yet intentionally or not, The Ickabog may be the most serious literary indictment of the mass response to the COVID-19 epidemic published to date.

The cover of JK Rowling’s The Ickabog. This may be a stretch but note the corona (Latin: crown) artfully woven into the book logo.

I bought the book as a gift for my Harry Potter-loving 9-year-old, and first picked it up on the Sabbath after Hannukah. My family had just returned from Jerusalem, where the lack of tourists and the still-considerable virus restrictions cast a pallor on this normally magical time of year. After months of closures, the street vendors of Jaffa and Ben Yehudah streets finally had their Judaica and souvenirs proudly on display, albeit with few takers. Seemingly half of the usually bustling restaurants were temporarily shuttered or closed for good. I wasn’t in the mood to read more of the endless news about the pandemic, so I turned to my son’s Rowling book looking for a light fantasy escape.

Read the full essay at First Things

Chronicles of Narnia for Tradition Journal

(from Rabbi Chaim Strauchler, Tradition Journal Online)

“In Culture and Anarchy (1869), Matthew Arnold argues for the role of reading “the best that has been thought and said” as an antidote to the anarchy of materialism, industrialism and individualistic self-interest.”

A case for why The Chronicles of Narnia is “The Best” for a new series at Tradition Journal Online.

 

 

Radical Chesed: We Can All Use Some Henny Machlis, zt”l, in Our Lives

machlis-credit-joan-roth

In 2016, a hefty new Artscroll biography was published whose cover stands out in the sefarim store among images of bearded rabbis. Emunah with Love and Chicken Soup is the story of the late Rebbetzin Henny Machlis, whose Jerusalem home was legendary for welcoming hundreds of guests each Shabbos, providing them with home-cooked meals as well as a deeper nourishment they may not have known they needed. The book is written by Sara Yoheved Rigler, author of Holy Woman and a frequent contributor to Aish.com. Rigler writes with a unique appreciation for holy Jewish women. While her books would probably not pass the academic smell test, she is able to convey the passion and fire of a great individual in her writing in a way that tends to escape her more polished peers. Henny Machlis as well as her husband Rabbi Mordechai Machlis were truly great individuals who stretched themselves beyond their individual egos to leave a remarkable legacy. Rigler writes in the book that when Henny was younger she used to say that she wanted to have 20 children and introduce Judaism to the entire world. She ended up having 14 children (with nine c-sections!) and inspired tens of thousands of Jews and non-Jews alike. She was, as the book jacket describes, “a virtuoso in chesed,” someone for whom the normal boundaries separating oneself from others is effaced.

For the full review, in the Jewish Link of NJ’s Literary Link, click here.