Continuing his contribution to medieval Jewish intellectual history, Haym Soloveitchik focuses here on the radical pietist movement of Ḥasidei Ashkenaz and its main literary work, Sefer Ḥasidim, and on the writings and personality of the Provençal commentator Ravad of Posquières. In both areas Soloveitchik challenges mainstream views to provide a new understanding of medieval Jewish thought. Some of the essays are revised and updated versions of work previously published and some are entirely new, but in all of them Soloveitchik challenges reigning views to provide a new understanding of medieval Jewish thought.
The section on Sefer Ḥasidim brings together over half a century of Soloveitchik’s writings on German Pietism, many of which originally appeared in obscure publications, and adds two new essays. The first of these is a methodological study of how to read this challenging work and an exposition of what constitutes a valid historical inference, while the second reviews the validity of the sociological and anthropological inferences presented in contemporary historiography. In discussing Ravad’s oeuvre, Soloveitchik questions the widespread notion that Ravad’s chief accomplishment was his commentary on Maimonides’ Mishneh torah; his Talmud commentary, he claims, was of far greater importance and was his true masterpiece. He also adds a new study that focuses on the acrimony between Ravad, as the low-born genius of Posquières, and R. Zerahyah ha-Levi of Lunel, who belonged to the Jewish aristocracy of Languedoc, and considers the implications of that relationship.
Collected Essays: Volume III (The Littman Library of Jewish Civilization, 2020), by Haym Soloveitchik
Reviewed by Rabbi Reuven Chaim Klein (Rachack Review)
As can be expected from Soloveitchik's previous work, the meticulous analysis and scholarly depth found in this anthology offer invaluable perspectives on medieval Jewish civilization, historical inquiry, and halachic discourse. As the reviewer delved into its pages, he found himself immersed in a thoughtful exploration of these complex topics, guided by Soloveitchik's expertise and clarity of thought. This collection is not only informative but also thought-provoking, marking it as an impressive resource for anyone interested in Jewish intellectual history.
The first part of this book is dedicated to analyzing the pietist phenomenon known as Chassidei Ashkenaz (associated with Rabbi Shmuel HaChassid, Rabbi Yehuda HaChassid, and Rabbi Elazar Rokeach, who were active in Germany in the 12th and 13th centuries). In that part of the book, Soloveitchik delves into the intricate world of Chassidei Ashkenaz, looking at the pietist ideologies and practices of this elitist movement with a critical eye. In doing so, Soloveitchik masterfully dissects the core tenets of their worldview, highlighting the concept of retzon habore (“the will of the Creator”), which fuels its adherent’s profound yearning to fulfill the Creator's “complete” will. This is accomplished by following rigorous adherence to strictures above and beyond those codified by mainline halacha. Within the realm of halacha, this ideology gives way towards an inclination towards stringencies, coupled with an (over)emphasis on the purity of thought (exemplified by their stringent prohibition on gazing at women).
Moreover, Soloveitchik intricately explores the possible evolution of Chassidei Ashkenaz thought, considering whether or not there may be nuances between its various developmental stages or differences between the ideas espoused by its above-mentioned intellectual heroes.
Soloveitchik astutely examines how the movement's ideas continued to reverberate throughout the broader Ashkenazic world even after the collapse of the movement proper. This is particularly seen in the case of self-mortification and other forms of penance as rites of repentance. Additionally, Soloveitchik delves into the intriguing interplay between Chassidei Ashkenaz and the Tosafist movement, unraveling the complexities of the dynamic relationship between them.
In the context of his work on Chassidei Ashkenaz, one of Soloveitchik’s more well-known contributions to scholarship lies in his groundbreaking insight regarding the seminal work commonly known as Sefer Chassidim. Soloveitchik’s astute observation notes that the first 153 paragraphs of that book are actually sourced in pietistic writings/teachings from outside the particular pietist community of the Chassidei Ashkenaz. Soloveitchik shows how the content of those paragraph actually diverges from the core ideals of the Chassidei Ashkenaz movement (while sometimes retaining their verbiage), at times even citing passages verbatim from Maimonides. Soloveitchik's spirited exchanges with scholars who questioned his assumptions about Chassidei Ashkenaz offer a fascinating glimpse into the scholarly dialogue surrounding this controversial movement, as much of the materials printed in this first section of the book detail the opinions of those who disputed Soloveitchik’s assumptions about Chassidei Ashkenaz and how Soloveitchik replied to their arguments.
In the second part of this book, Soloveitchik embarks on a scholarly exploration of the Jewish community in Provence (in modern-day Southern France), particularly focusing on its revered rabbinic figure, the Raavad — Rabbi Avraham of Posquières. In this section, Soloveitchik shows how even though contemporary Talmudic scholars see the Raavad as primarily a critic of Maimonides’ and Alfasi’s halachic magna opera, in earlier times the Raavad’s legacy was shaped by his commentaries to the Talmud. Thus, Soloveitchik brings to the fore the multifaceted legacy of the Raavad, shifting the spotlight from his role as a critic of Maimonides (which only occurred as a sideshow to the Raavad’s main work, as he only encountered Maimonides’ writings at the end of his fruitful life) to his role as an independent and creative Talmudic commentator and Halachic decisor. Much of the Raavad’s work and originality was overshadowed by the later work of Nachmanides and his students, but Soloveitchik urges the reader to see the Raavad's groundbreaking output for what it truly is. In doing so, Soloveitchik also shows how the Raavad’s commentary differs from the monumental contributions of Rashi.
This section of the book also contains a series of essays penned in response to criticism about how Soloveitchik framed Raavad’s relationship with Geonic rulings and how the Latin legal terminology used in Provence may have influence the Provencal sages’ way of looking at sureties in Halachic discourse.
In the context of discussing Provencal Jewry, the figure of the Meiri emerges as a compelling subject of inquiry, and in a chapter dedicated to that figure, Soloveitchik offers a critical description of Meiri’s Talmudic methodology and his contribution to Talmudic study. Through Soloveitchik's sharp lens, we gain a deeper appreciation as to how Meiri's voluminous Talmudic commentary has been received throughout the ages and what led to it gaining more prominence in the last century than it has ever held.
In discussing Talmudic commentaries, a recurring theme emerges from this book: Soloveitchik's profound reverence and awe for Rashi as a commentator who transformed the Talmud into an open book in a way that was unparalleled in the medieval world. While acknowledging the contributions of other commentators, such as the School of Mainz (printed in the ubiquitous Vilna Shas under the name “Rabbeinu Gershom”) and the Raavad, Soloveitchik sees Rashi's contribution in shaping the way Talmud is studied as entirely unmatched.
Another theme that runs like Ariadne's thread throughout this collection of Soloveitchik’s writings is the question of how and when historical data can be culled from halachic literature. Unlike some scholars who view halachah as predominantly shaped by the ideological leanings or even personal interests of its decisors, Soloveitchik presents a compelling argument that halachah — like any legal system — operates according to its own rules and considerations. Soloveitchik therefore cautions against the tendency to "historicize" rulings by attributing them solely to extra-halachic motives, emphasizing the necessity of identifying a "smoking gun" in the form of unsound halachic reasoning that points to the notion that the decisor is motivated by something other than purely halachic thought before making such accusations. This evidentiary criterion, which Soloveitchik terms the "angle of deflection," serves as a guiding principle in much of his historical analyses, even when it is not explicitly articulated.
Many of the essays in this collection have already been published and critiqued by other scholars decades ago. Within these pages, Soloveitchik gracefully responds to some of those critiques, skillfully defending and clarifying his positions. Often, he accomplishes this task with elegant simplicity, by simply reproducing his original words verbatim while offering a slight addition or modifications where necessary. He is also not afraid to concede to his interlocutors, when he sees their arguments as compelling. This dialogue with scholarly discourse not only enriches the reader's understanding, but also underscores Soloveitchik's commitment to rigorous intellectual engagement and his own legacy in the study of Jewish History.
As one of the preeminent Jewish historians of the medieval period, Soloveitchik's scholarship is marked by a rare blend of academic rigor and profound reverence for tradition. Hailing from one of the most illustrious rabbinic dynasties and identifying himself with the Lithuanian Yeshiva tradition, Soloveitchik navigates between these worlds, crafting erudite works in eloquent English as befits his towering stature as a scholar. This reviewer in particular has eagerly consumed Soloveitchik's previous volumes and essays, and for him, the anticipation of future scholarship from the pen of this esteemed octogenarian scholar is met with great excitement. Soloveitchik's contributions continue to illuminate the corridors of Jewish intellectual history, leaving an indelible mark on generations of scholars and readers alike.
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.