The Wicked Son: Anti-Semitism, Self-Hatred, and the Jews

by David Mamet

Part of the Jewish Encounter series

As might be expected from this fiercely provocative writer, David Mamet’s interest in anti-Semitism is not limited to the modern face of an ancient hatred but encompasses as well the ways in which many Jews have themselves internalized that hatred. Using the metaphor of the Wicked Son at the Passover seder—the child who asks, “What does this story mean to you?”—Mamet confronts what he sees as an insidious predilection among some Jews to seek truth and meaning anywhere—in other religions, in political movements, in mindless entertainment—but in Judaism itself. At the same time, he explores the ways in which the Jewish tradition has long been and still remains the Wicked Son in the eyes of the world.

Written with the searing honesty and verbal brilliance that is the hallmark of Mamet’s work, The Wicked Son is a scathing look at one of the most destructive and tenacious forces in contemporary life, a powerfully thought-provoking and important book.

Genres: Nonfiction, Jewish, Essays, Judaism, Politics, Religion, Israel

208 pages, Hardcover

First published October 10, 2006

About the author

David Alan Mamet is an American author, essayist, playwright, screenwriter and film director. His works are known for their clever, terse, sometimes vulgar dialogue and arcane stylized phrasing, as well as for his exploration of masculinity.

As a playwright, he received Tony nominations for Glengarry Glen Ross (1984) and Speed-the-Plow (1988). As a screenwriter, he received Oscar nominations for The Verdict (1982) and Wag the Dog (1997).

Mamet's recent books include The Old Religion (1997), a novel about the lynching of Leo Frank; Five Cities of Refuge: Weekly Reflections on Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy (2004), a Torah commentary, with Rabbi Lawrence Kushner; The Wicked Son (2006), a study of Jewish self-hatred and antisemitism; and Bambi vs. Godzilla, an acerbic commentary on the movie business.

Reviews

[Emily · Rating 3 out of 5]

A really interesting and thought-provoking read, but I keep finding myself disagreeing with Mamet. He asserts that Jews have bought in to the world's hatred of them and have become anti-Semitic themselves, doing their best to separate themselves from their religion and culture, and assimilate into the Western world. My Jewishness is one that is very different from Mamet's, but it has been my experience that many Jews remove themselves from their religion while clinging to their ethnic and cultural identity. Certainly self-deprecating humor is a cultural trait, and perhaps it is indicative of a deeper-lying self-hatred. But from my experience, non-religious Jews inside and outside of my family tend to share the indescribable bond of being Jewish; the sense of a heritage in which one had to fight to defend that Jewishness, and that because it is an ethnic identity we cling to, that a Jew may never be anything but a Jew, regardless of religion.

Mamet's uncritical allegiance to Israel is striking. He emphasizes that the "why" of Israel's formation is important, and the "how" does not matter. In citing examples of ignorant, irreverent, assimilated Jews, he repeatedly returns to the matter of Israel.

Chewing on this at the moment:

"For 'Jewish guilt' is not a side effect of being Jewish but of being insufficiently Jewish. Buddhism will not cure it, self-help will not cure it, good works will not cure it, 'A Course in Miracles' will not cure it-- all of these, ranging from religion to nostrum, cannot eradicate the lapsed Jew's sense of being lost. For he is lost. (p. 46)
"He feels that, rationally... [he:] may be free to choose, to opt out of any inconvenient association, free of debt, and so of guilt. But he may not and is pursued by an unquenchable sense of loss. He may identify this loss as a desire for justice, for redress, for equality, for freedom. The sense of loss will persist. His guilt and anxiety are not for the unfortunate state of the world but for his identity." (p. 47)

Is Jewish guilt a result of disassociation from religion? I've always viewed it as a definitive characteristic of Jewishness. It seems the cycles of ritualism and striving (and inevitably failing) to live according to the Law, then periodically seeking symbolic absolution, would do little to assuage one's guilt, only make one more aware of his sin and need for real forgiveness.

______________________________________________________________________

By the end of this book, I am a little more convinced on certain points. Mamet cites examples we have all met (a Jew who is careful to identify himself as non-practicing, or says that his parents are Jewish, but he is not) and attributes them to shame of Jewishness, while I have always attributed this to pride of culture. My view is that Jews who identify themselves in this way are proud of being Jewish, even though they don't actually believe in Judaism. But Mamet says that this is a Jew doing his best to deny his Jewishness, confessing and apologizing for his identity. I wonder if each apostate Jew feels a tinge of both pride and shame.

Also, Mamet astutely observes:
"Anomie is the sickness of the American Age-- the feeling of rootlessness, of purposelessness, colored over by the vehement assertion of freedom (whatever that may mean), and the unstated but essential implication that this freedom confers, upon the nation and individual, some unnameable preeminence. We find this cant of freedom (which is to say, preeminence) in the mouths of corrupt politicians wishing to incite and inspire-- fettered by the absence of ideas, reduced to the recitation of magical chants." (p. 89,90)

And:
"Each human being has a certain amount of awe that must be discharged. It can be discharged only through ritual. If he does not engage in existing religious ritual, the individual will seek out or invent other avenues for his submission to powers greater than himself. These rituals include political conventions, sports rooting, and celebrity worship." (p.61,62)

He goes on to talk about idolatry and emptiness, this anomie. That people are meant to have reverence for God, and when that is missing in an individual (as in the apostate Jew to whom this book is addressed), he lives, often unaware of its source, in confusion and guilt. And corporately, this lack of reverence for God being replaced with a reverence for false, empty, superficial things, results is the "sickness of the American Age".

I cannot be convinced of his view on Israel (that Jewish suffering is more painful and tragic than that of the Palestinians), or of many of the strange sexual metaphors he inserts throughout the book, but Mamet is certainly a discerning observer of many strata of our culture. I would recommend it to anyone to read thoughtfully while considering his own possibly embittered attitude towards religion, the idea of God in general, and what might be the objects of his own reverence and awe.

[Carol Storm · Rating 1 out of 5]

When Krusty The Clown turns holier-than-thou.

David Mamet is pure Hollywood, just like Krusty on the SIMPSONS. For thirty years he was one of the boys, (and that rhymes with goys) a screenwriter who knew how to grease the wheels and get along with powerful people. High stakes poker. Dirty jokes. Night after night of smoking cigars, shtupping blondes, doing lines of blow with Marty, scripting soulful masterpieces like HOFFA and THE UNTOUCHABLES and generally making the most of a life lived to the fullest in Sodom and Gomorrah.

Hooray For Hollywood!

So what happens when a hustler can't hustle anymore? What happens when his seed pod dries up, his sack is empty, and his shiksa-seeking schlong starts to droop and sag?

He turns . . . Jewish!

That's right, at the age of sixty, (or sixty-five, or seventy) David Mamet Has Got Religion. And he can't just repent of his sins. He has to repent of yours too! So in this book the good-time guy turns informer, ratting on every Jew who ever wanted to have a good time (except old Dorian Gray in the mirror.) Oh, there's some political cover, some hysterical gibberish about how Israel will fall if American Jews don't stop making excuses for those evil Palestinians. (Kind of like the way David O. Selznick kept making excuses for southern racism in GONE WITH THE WIND, David?)

But what really scares Born-Again Krusty is not Palestinian suicide bombers . . . it's blonde shiksas with big boobs, offering pure temptation on Main Street! After a whole lifetime of giving in to temptation, (and loving every minute of it) evidently David Mamet can no longer get it up, and so he has finally seen the light. Read the (unintentionally hilarious) section on high school car washes in the good old U.S.A.

You really see what hapens when Krusty the Clown turns holier than thou.

[Simcha York · Rating 4 out of 5]

In the Foreword to his book, The Wicked Son, David Mamet identifies his ostensible audience: "the Jews who, in the sixties, envied the Black Power Movement; who, in the nineties, envied the Palestinians; who weep at Exodus but jeer at the Israeli Defense Forces; who nod when Tevye praises tradition but fidget through the seder; who might take their curiosity to a dogfight, to a bordello or an opium den but find ludicrous the notion of a visit to a synagogue; whose favorite Jew is Anne Frank and whose second-favorite Jew does not exist; who are humble in their desire to learn about Kwanzaa and proud of their ignorance of Tu Bi'Shvat; who dread endogamy more than incest; who bow the head reverently at a baptism and have never attended a bris ... who find your religion and race repulsive, your ignorance of your history a satisfaction...." As might be expected from such a description, what follows is a provocative, unflinchingly polemical collection of essays (or perhaps, more accurately, meditations and monologues) on anti-semitism and Jewish self-hatred.

The primary strength of The Wicked Son lies in Mamet's ability to express himself in a precise, tight prose organized into well-crafted, narrowly-focused chapters, in which Mamet's thoughts on Jewish identity, observance, anti-semitism, assimilation, and alienation weave in and out of one another with an almost fugue-like flow. One need not agree with everything (or even anything) the author has to say in order to appreciate this book simply for its craftsmanship. Mamet clearly has a great love for and takes great pride in Jewish culture and tradition, and this love helps to soften the sharp, angry voice that permeates many of the musings found here.

However, when dealing with such issues as anti-semitism and Jewish self-hatred, Mamet's approach is that of the psychoanalyst and the cultural theorist rather than the approach of the practitioner of sociology, history, or the cognitive sciences. Mamet's arguments are purposefully emotional and polemical and, while they do evince a certain Aristotelian rigor, they are not analytical examinations of their subject matter, leading to a certain level of (perhaps deliberate) abstraction.

Despite the lengthy description of his intended reader in the Foreword (a description which, of course, is more caricature than representation of any actual cultural phenomenon), it is often unclear who exactly falls within Mamet's classification of the "apikoros" or of the "self-loathing Jew." It is equally unclear as to what level of involvement in Jewish culture and Judaism is required to exempt one from such classification (again, perhaps deliberately so - one could generously read this fuzziness as a general call for all Jews to more strongly identify with the culture and religion of their forebears).

Why, to borrow a specific example from the book, does the Jew who must borrow a satin yarmulke from the kippah bin at a bar mitzvah service come in for derision, but the Jew who owns kippah but never wears it outside of shul does not? Why call out the Jew who fidgets uncomfortably during the passover seder, but then mention in passing (and without so much as a whisper of self-incrimination or irony) that one drives on shabbos? In short, one could read this book as simply an extended and well-crafted example of the all-too-common kvetch that the Jew who is more observant than me is a religious fanatic and the one who is less observant than me is a heretic.

Still, it is David Mamet, and the strengths that have made his work as a playwright so provocative and compelling are on full display here. Mamet has, at the very least, the sense to know that if one must be provocative and test the bounds of civil discourse, one should also be generous and entertaining. The Wicked Son probably has a little something in it to anger almost any reader, but likely also has plenty to give almost any reader cause to reflect on one's own attitudes about Judaism and Jewishness.

[Elliot Ratzman · Rating 1 out of 5]

David Mamet may write good plays, but don’t get near his writings on Judaism; they’re toxic. This is an updated version of Rabbi Kahane’s extremist classic “Never Again”—both are incoherent racist, bizarre, paranoid, bullying and self-righteous. Without any evidence (save one quote from Chomsky) or nuance, Mamet delivers a screed against a mythical beast called the “self-hating Jew” who abandons Torah and tradition and condemns the State of Israel. As in his terrible movie “Homicide” he asserts that “the entire world” hates the Jews; if all Jews thought like Mamet, I’d understand. Worse is the “race treason” committed by mild critics of Israel. Whatever. This wretched book will stand as an artifact of Jewish paranoia, how Jewish men get all macho by asserting they are part of a “race” that demands “loyalty” and violence to compensate for their ignorance and insecurity. Shame on Shocken Press for publishing this tripe in its widely read “Nextbook” series; may it quickly go out of print.

[Austin · Rating 1 out of 5]

So, let me get this straight: thinking critically about Israel is anti-semetic?

I have a real problem with the idea that embracing my religious and cultural identity means blindly supporting the political agenda of a country with which I have no real connection, and which routinely violates human rights in the name of "defending itself." While I don't deny that anti-semetism is real (and, as long as we're mincing words, includes anti-Arab sentiment, as they are technically semetic, as well.) it is NOT an excuse to persecute others.

If, as Mamet seems to want, all Jews should embrace Israel as part of their religion, it follows that we, as jews, should be prepared to wrestle with the moral and political implications that entails, rather than falling back on a hysterical persecution complex. This struggle is part of being Jewish; people who "wrestle" with God.


This guy is a chauvinistic gasbag with a thesaurus.

[Donald · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is a captivating meditation on otherness and belonging, on community and ritual and history. On these levels it rang very true to me, even when I disagreed with it.

In some ways, I read this book with the meaning of Israel elucidated by Levinas here: "I have it from an eminent master, each time Israel is mentioned in the Talmud one is certainly free to understand by it a particular ethnic group which is probably fulfilling an incomparable destiny. But to interpret in this manner would be to reduce the general principle in the Talmudic passage, to forget that Israel means a people who has received the law, a human nature which has reached the fullness of its responsibilities and its self consciousness. The descendants of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob are human beings who are no longer childlike."

This book will make you angry. You will disagree with it. But it's intelligent and well-written and ought to be read and disagreed with.

[David · Rating 3 out of 5]

Both an analysis of self hate and a meditation on the joys of belonging, its short chapters are brief essays that could each stand alone and are easy to read while commuting or in a waiting room; it's debatable whether they cohere into a larger argument.

Mamet has a blind spot regarding Palestinian suffering; if the prime minister of Israel can acknowledge it on the floor of the Knesset why can't Mamet?

[Jef Sneider · Rating 2 out of 5]

The Wicked Son by David Mamet, was recently described by Professor Don Siegel as “incendiary stuff” and “strong language designed to shock” and “neither politically correct nor designed to make Jewish readers feel good about themselves.” I agree with all these sentiments, as Professor Siegel loaned me the book to read after he finished with it, but I would go further. Mamet’s book, ostensibly an attack on Jew hating Jews, appears to me to be as anti-Semitic as anything that he criticizes.

Mamet’s writing style is loose and emotional, laden with negative descriptions of Jews that are rare to find in recent Western literature. He feels that he can get away with it because the anti-Semitic and anti-Israel words come from the mouths of other Jews, the type of rich, liberal and disaffected Jews that he meets in the entertainment world of New York City and Hollywood where he lives and works. Mamet obviously reserves a very special hatred towards these apostate Jews, Woody Allen representing the Hollywood variety and Noam Chomsky the overeducated academic type, and he bars no holds in his criticism.  

Only the most active and observant Jews will read this tirade without introspection. “Is he writing about me?” one must ask, or “am I the type of Jew to whom he is referring?” For myself and the majority of the Jews that I know, the answer is “no,” which gives me liberty to critically review Mr. Mamet’s short and nasty book impartially.

“The world hates the Jews,” Mamet reminds us, and Mamet himself reserves his own personal hatred for Jews also, only instead of the black caftaned and bearded Jews of orthodoxy, he hates these modern American (and European) Jews trying desperately to distance themselves from their heritage.

Hatred is the problem, and Mamet is so caught up in it, with his emotional rhetoric, that he becomes the very thing he despises. It was eye opening to read some of the anti-Semitic incidents he has directly observed. Some are so loathsome that I would not repeat them, which makes his hatred understandable, but not excusable. Mamet often uses Freudian terms to analyze this self hatred, perhaps reflecting his own years of analysis or simply amateurish interpretation. It is not impressive.

In the end, the book reads like a hastily assembled diatribe which merely tosses another layer of dirt onto a large pile. It was neither enlightening nor uplifting, and it only served to reinforce the negative feelings that I already have had about Mr. Mamet’s writing style and choice of subject. If you wish to observe a Jewish food fight first hand, by all means read this book. Personally, I believe that most of you have better things to do.

[John · Rating 3 out of 5]

Mamet's brief defense of Jewish pride against his fellow Jews preening their self-loathing meanders, yet, as with much of his drama and film, his barbed messages prickle your complacency. He argues that the sadly familiar figure of today's secular Jew delighting in demeaning Torah, mocking synagogue, and defying tradition is rooted in the "wicked son" who challenges the family, the tribe, at the ritual recital of the Seder. He suggests that the Torah itself's addressed to such a skeptic or rebel.

He wonders about the Jews whose favorite role model's Anne Frank, with nobody in second place. The Jew that idolizes a Japanese tea ritual but who cannot bother to remember if Rosh Hashanah precedes Yom Kippur. The Jew who tells the anti-Jewish joke while insisting on telling it to the Jews he claims to separate himself from, but with whom he's impelled to keep parading his childish nonconformity.

He challenges those denouncing the IDF's "reprisals" and "retaliations" to come up with a better plan of defending an entity the size of Vermont against a billion who are taught that Zionism above all can be blamed for all evils against Islam. He links the pro-forma leftist denunciation of Israeli actions to the "blood libel"-- that Jews "delight in the blood of others" peddled for so many centuries. (11)

Mamet's on less firm ground when it comes to psychological explanations for Jewish self-loathing. Who else would take in one who hates his own family, his own tribe? This commonsensical question leads him into tangents about Santa Claus and solstice sacrifice of children, as he struggles to understand the "conflicted winter Jews" who celebrate their apostasy. He sees this as part of "a universal desire to revert to paganism" that shows why Chanukah bushes are invented to imitate Christmas trees. He muses: "Religion came into being to supplant the anomie and excess of paganism." (29) He finds religion, Christianity or Judaism, to each his own, battles this regression to the pagan with the comfort of the tribe, the people, the ritual.

He finds many of his fellow Jews lost. He wonders poignantly if in five generations, as people may with a great-great-grandmother who was Cherokee, our descendants will reflect on "Jewish blood" way back in their assimilated, probably secular or Christian, family. Yet, for now, he figures Jews are far too close to their five thousand years of observance "for any lapsed Jew to feel anything other than self-loathing of its Doppelganger, arrogant assurance of his escape." (46)

From this Jewish heritage, he finds solace and strength. "Judaism, as a spiritual, ethical, or social practice, has at its core a mystery so deep that not only is its existence hidden from the uninitiated but its very practitioners are hated and scorned, reviled and murdered as necromancers. What is the fear the Jew engenders and that manifests itself as hatred? Perhaps it is caused by his historical, absolute, terrifying certainty that there is a God." (60)

This passage shows Mamet at his best. The short chapters, however, roam about the self-hatred analysis without coming to much more of a resolution than this eloquence. Maybe it's impossible to go further into the mystery. The remaining two-thirds of this short book has its moments-- Mamet's great at showing the conviviality of the film set and how membership has its privileges in a common pursuit-- but the topics then blur and scatter.

He often puts down yoga-practicing, life-coach employing, analyst-addicted, Buddhists once Jewish. I'd add gently-- as Rodger Kamenetz in "The Jew in the Lotus" and "Stalking Elijah" reports-- that many Jews can combine meditation and mystical pursuits with an eclectic, Orthodox-tinged or Renewal-affiliated, version of Judaism that works for them. One need not adhere to Mamet's analogy of the AA meeting-- "you go because you want to go; you go because you don't want to go"-- to sitting in shul and making yourself like it despite the fact you may not. I agree with his defense of attending temple for those wishing to reconnect, but there are many temples and many ways Jews can practice beyond the ossified norms. (I am a rare native of L.A., so my perspective may differ from his N.Y.C of course take on SoCal et al.) He, given his chapter about the poor shul by the freeway or that about his rabbi who refused to put up donors' names on plaques, needs to be aware that many of his fellow Jews are bored by the conventional service, and may seek other venues as they adapt Torah to contemporary mindsets. (And/or choose Chabad?)

Still, this section from "Well Poisoning" deserves sharing. He wonders why "Moslem extremists may not bomb New York, bur rational human beings-- some, to their shame, Jews-- hold that jihadists may bomb Jerusalem. The apologists are or pretend to be incapable of differentiating between the lamentable and decried death of civilians in a military reprisal, and the targeted strategic murder of schoolchildren." Subsequent events in Lebanon and Gaza only repeat this scenario of what the critics if not Mamet label "moral equivalency" or "proportionate response" against terror.

He continues: "This license is precarious, for the Palestinians, raised by unsettled Western thought to superhuman status, enjoy that status only as a counterpoint to the bestiality of the Jews. Should the Palestinians choose, in their uncontrollable sorrow and extremity, to bomb New York, they would find their license revoked." (145) One wonders about this alternative storyline.

This assault against complacency reminded me of two books I pondered [along with this, i.e., in 2013] Oriana Fallaci's post-9/11 "The Rage and the Pride" and Bernard-Henry Levy's "Left in Dark Times." Like Fallaci and Levy, Mamet rises to what's become among the media and the chattering classes and opinion-makers and professoriate an unpopular cause. His book, like the two others, will probably incite many to lash out against them and anyone who agrees with a modicum of their liberal discourse in the name of tolerance and defense of "tough Jews."

But, such voices deserve an audience, and one finishes this book not knowing much at all about why Mamet shifted, apparently, towards a more assertive embrace of his heritage. This will reveal nothing personally about his choice-- I recall reading when it came out an interview with him conducted with a Jewish newspaper as he ate a bacon sandwich. Out of such idiosyncratic gestures, perhaps the restive Mamet creates his own way of being Torah-true for today, if not by tradition.

[Greg · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wow! First off, this should be a 3.5, not a four, but you can't do that on this system. Provocative and well-written as always (if you can get past the 20th grade reading level words), I found this book easy to get through (short chapters) but incredibly challenging to process. While I am in many ways, but not entirely, the Wicked Son Mamet refers to, his points mostly strengthened my own convictions. Sort of the way I feel after reading Bill O'Reilly. There were certainly, however, some excellent points that really made me think, but mostly extrapolating from the secular Jew to other secular populations. Very interesting and thought-provoking.

[Nikki DeLeon · Rating 5 out of 5]

The book primarily focuses on Jews who don't want to be Jews and why they are bad people, as well as why the world hates Israel and are thus bad people, but honestly, it's a pretty universal look at what it is and what it means to abandon your heritage and roots for something flimsier. Unless you are Honduran. In which case, live long and prosper, Geraldo Pablo Calabazas Jerry P. Clark.

[Danielle · Rating 5 out of 5]

Mamet has a way with words that keeps me entertained whether I'm reading his plays or a book like this. While I may not agree with all that he has to say, I find him thought provoking. It caused me to examine my thinking and choose from a myriad of thoughts. That is what a good book should do, as far as I'm concerned.

[David · Rating 4 out of 5]

dense, at times impenetrable book about the curse of the modern liberal jew-very apropos at this point in time, with Israel on the ground in Gaza. He made me think twice about my usual wussy liberal response.

[Brett C · Rating 3 out of 5]

The book was a fair read and offered some thought-provoking ideas surrounding the ideas of anti-Semitism and the concept of the self hating Jew. The book seemed a little geared towards finding the hate and the negative but then again, it is titled "Anti-Semitism and Self-Hatred."

[Amy Bermudez · Rating 2 out of 5]

Struggled to get through this book, but my husband suggested it, so I made the effort. I though the author's vocabulary was frustratingly over the top, sentences convoluted, and topics wandering. I disagreed with 90% of what he had to say. Very one-sided.

[Jamey · Rating 4 out of 5]

I did not expect to agree with almost anything in this book. But I did, and that was unsettling and damn interesting. Mamet is way to the right of me, but I was moved by it anyway.

[Jon · Rating 4 out of 5]

An academic take on the topic. A little hard to get through, but some very interesting and controversial points that can be thought-provoking.

[Corine · Rating 5 out of 5]

Okay David Mamet, don't feel like you have to hold back your thoughts or anything

[Sharon · Rating 4 out of 5]

Powerful, poignant, well thought out, well argued. I hold DM in a whole new light.

[Kerry Pickens · Rating 5 out of 5]

If you read one book to understand the Israeli / Palestinian conflict, read this one.

[Damien · Rating 2 out of 5]

Santa Claus = child-sacrifice myth

[Michael · Rating 4 out of 5]

As thrilling as it is annoying.

The book reads like a rant, and is clearly intended to shock. To judge it for not being more coherently argued is like complaining that Bach keyboard music is bad because it can't fill the dance floor. It's meant to shock, to unsettle, to upset, to present a series of very uncomfortable mirrors to a mostly Jewish readership. There is a lot of fire directed toward so-called "self-hating Jews" and I think Mamet does a better job than most at explaining why that oxymoronic epithet may in fact be apt.

The writing that this most reminds me of is Rieff's late work like My Life among the Deathworks: Illustrations of the Aesthetics of Authority . Both works are fragmented and permeated with rage at a culture that simply can't not hate Jews, both have stunning re-readings of cultural texts, and both are just a bit too consistent to be ultimately convincing. Mamet is more focused on the Jewish "race traitors," at least in this book.

Don't get me wrong, I think Mamet has more or less nailed a lot of anti-Judaism, with psychological depth that is stunning and a refreshing break from the unconvincing quotidian rationalizations. But like a lot of essentially literary analysis, it's open to the claim, "Yes, that's a very nice way of putting it but it's simply not the case." When all is said and done, with him firing in all directions at once, I don't even think David Mamet agrees with everything David Mamet writes in this book.

Even though I did enjoy it, I do think the book would have benefited from better editing. There are quite a few typos and many phrasings which are unnecessarily obtuse. I actually think it's great that the book has the feeling of a brilliant rambling raging series of orations. It's a fitting style for the subject. But since it is a book, there's no crime in changing the phrasing of the orations until they are more legible.

At the end of the day, given Mamet's withering critique of "I'm Jewish but..." Jews and his continued deep allegiance to the Reform movement, I can't help but wonder, who does he talk to at kiddush?

[Jordon Gyarmathy · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book was filled with false equivalences, assumptions, and a lot of anger. I think I agree with the general idea that a lot of Jews are distancing themselves from the religion and identity due to a degree of self hatred. I think I disagree with a lot of the way that idea is conveyed in this book. The plight of the Palestinian is ignored. The good that can come of intermarriage is ignored. The reform movements great work in social justice is ignored. Also the vocabulary used is pretentious and not very readable. I consider myself to be a good reader and I think I have a wide vocabulary but it is hard to read this book without a dictionary. Overall I would not recommend this book but I hope to find a better book on the same interesting topic.

[Josh Drimmer · Rating 1 out of 5]

There's a good book about Jewish self-loathing to be written, and...this ain't it. Mamet's been criticized for artificial Mametspeak and characterization in his plays and movies (to which I say: it's a style, get over it, you must hate Pinter too), but reading a book (although it's more like a long, bad op-ed) about what are meant to be actual people but always feel like straw men...yeah, just don't.

[Sarede Switzer · Rating 3 out of 5]

Pretty interesting read and I appreciated the bold wording. At times perhaps redundant but overall good and I enjoyed his writing style.

[Eric Sbar · Rating 2 out of 5]

???

[Kareem Maijeens · Rating 1 out of 5]

stupid angry book written by a stupid angry guy. Nothing really original or of value in this book, even for what it is and the genre it stands in today. Waste of my time

[Aaron · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is written as a kind of open letter to David Mamet’s coreligionist brothers and sisters who have fallen away from their faith. It is divided into several brief snippets, each dealing with a different dilemma. (This is the same format he used for The Secret Knowledge.) Approaching this book from an evangelical background I found some of his arguments difficult to understand. Many (however) were universal; especially in regard to human longing. I felt Mamet attributed too much of the anti-Semitism he sees in the world to outdated prejudices of Christians, particularly concerning to the crucifixion of Jesus. I am a 41 year old male who has attended some form of Christian worship at least 50% of all the Sundays of my life. I have gone to Catholic Mass and Lutheran, Methodist, Apostolic, Baptist and myriad all sorts of other non-denominational and denominational Christian services and have never once heard a pastor, priest, etc. blame the Jews for the death of Jesus! He also made a major mistake in claiming Jesus was condemned on the Sabbath, after Good Friday. (See page 34 – A Hot Hen’s Kiss) This is simply not true as Jesus was crucified BEFORE the Sabbath, early on Good Friday.

Some things you should know. David Mamet is incredibly intelligent. I would have benefited by having a dictionary at the ready. I mostly plodded forward in the hopes the context of the paragraph would help define a difficult word. Sometimes it did, sometimes it did not. I suspect I will need to read this book several more times to fully appreciate the insight of this author. He is brilliant. Although many arguments would sink in, I am unable to begin to articulate them to others. Read this book during that time of the day you are sharpest.

[Reed · Rating 2 out of 5]

I almost gave it one star, but it makes too many fine and insightful points to warrant that low of a rating. The problem here is that David Mamet knows too many words and his insights become over-burdened by his vocabulary. Like Emerson before him, the unit of thought is the sentence - not the paragraph - and so the reader must pay extra-close attention. Where Mamet differs from Emerson, however, is that Emerson knew how to simplify a point, while Mamet seems only to know how to complicate things. He makes some excellent points and the book is not without merit, but he sounds more interested in hearing himself seem credible than in making his points, which is a real shame.

[Joebaby · Rating 1 out of 5]

this book was unfathomably terrible, and it's written to an audience that I really don't think exists outside the author David Mamet's head.

seriously, it's not even a good example of reading an opposing argument because it's total GARBAGE

if you want to hate playwright/author/poet/egotist David Mamet too, save yourself the time of reading this book and watch any of his films. they are sure to fill you with slimy disgust

but I guess the above is open to debate if anyone has a differing opinion on the book