In this second volume of his essays on the history of halakhah, author Haym Soloveitchik grapples with much-disputed topics in medieval Jewish history and takes issue with a number of reigning views. His insistence that proper understanding requires substantive, in-depth analysis of the sources leads him to a searching analysis of oft-cited halakhic texts of Ashkenaz, frequently with conclusions that differ from the current consensus. Medieval Jewish historians cannot, he argues, avoid engaging in detailed textual criticism, and texts must always be interpreted in the context of the legal culture of their time. Historians who shirk these tasks risk reinforcing a version that supports their own preconceptions, and retrojecting later notions on to an earlier age. These basic methodological points underlie every topic discussed. In Part I of the book, devoted to the cultural origins of Ashkenaz and its lasting impact, Professor Soloveitchik questions the scholarly consensus that the roots of Ashkenaz lie deep in Palestinian soil. He challenges the widespread notion that it was immemorial custom (minhag kadmon) that primarily governed Early Ashkenaz, the culture that emerged in the Rhineland in the late 10th century and which was ended by the ravages of the First Crusade (1096). He similarly rejects the theory that it was only towards the middle of the 11th century that the Babylonian Talmud came to be regarded as fully authoritative. On the basis of an in-depth analysis of the literature of the time, he shows that the scholars of Early Ashkenaz displayed an astonishing command of the complex corpus of the Babylonian Talmud and viewed it at all times as the touchstone of the permissible and the forbidden. The section concludes with his own radical proposal as to the source of Ashkenazi culture and the stamp it left upon the Jews of northern Europe for close to a millennium. Part II treats the issue of martyrdom as perceived and practiced by Jews under Islam and Christianity. In one of the longer essays, Soloveitchik claims that Maimonides' problematic Iggeret ha-Shemad is a work of rhetoric, not halakhah - a conclusion that has generated much criticism from other scholars, to whom he replies one by one. This is followed by a comprehensive study of kiddush ha-shemn Ashkenaz, which draws him into an analysis of whether aggadic sources were used by the Tosafists in halakhic arguments, as some historians claim; whether there was any halakhic validation of the widespread phenomenon of voluntary martyrdom; and, indeed, whether halakhic considerations played any part in such tragic life-and-death issues. The book concludes with two essays on Mishneh Torah, which argue that the famed code must also be viewed as a work of art which sustains, as masterpieces do, multiple conflicting interpretations.
Many people know of Professor Haym Soloveitchik from his landmark 1994 paper Rupture and Reconstruction: The Transformation of Contemporary Orthodoxy. That paper achieved significant praise, but also some criticism. However, when pressed to name something else Professor Soloveitchik has written, many people will not be able to do that.
But far from being a one-hit-wonder, Soloveitchik is perhaps the most prominent halachic historian of our times. In Collected Essays: Volumes 1-3 (Littman Library of Jewish Civilization), the extreme depth and breadth of his knowledge are a sight to see. These three volumes cover 50 years of his writings and thoughts.
In volume 1, there are a number of essays on usuary and moneylending, with a specific focus on how Rashi and the Tosafists dealt with the issue. In addition to essays on the prohibition of gentile wine and its link to moneylending. Soloveitchik does not just rely on halachic texts; he also researched non-halachic texts. When dealing with the prohibition of gentile wine, he examines wine consumption in France during the time and shows the significant amount of wine consumed by the average person. Wine was a fundamental beverage during those times, as water was a drink only for animals and the poorest of people.
Wine was so essential a beverage during those times, that he dispels the myth that Rashi was a wine merchant. He notes that everyone in France at that time made their own wine. Moreover, when Rashi wrote in his commentary that he had to stop writing to go to his vineyard, it was due to necessity, not that it was his profession. As to the notion that Rashi was a vintner, he writes that “Rashi may have been a vintner, but by the same token, he may have been an egg salesman.” I started reading volume one some years ago and recently completed volume three. Volume 2 is a tour de force with several brilliant essays on the development of halacha in medieval Ashkenaz. Volume 3 deals with Sefer Hasidim, from Rabbi Yehuda HaChasid of 13th-century France, and his contemporary, the Ravad of Posquières. I found the essays in volume 3 to be the most demanding and intricate.
Soloveitchik is a student of his father, the Rav, historian Jacob Katz, and Rabbi Saul Lieberman. Each of them were demanding scholars in their own right. These three volumes will undoubtedly make them proud of their brilliant student.