Honorable Mention in the 2012 Casey Medals for Meritorious Journalism
When Hella Winston began talking with Hasidic Jews for her doctoral dissertation in sociology, she was excited to be meeting members of the highly insular Satmar sect. While several Jewish journalists and scholars have produced largely admiring books describing the Lubavitch way of life and that group's outreach efforts to unaffiliated Jews, very little has been written about the many other Hasidic sects in the United States. Unlike Lubavitchers, members of these other groups are raised to avoid all unnecessary contact with outside society, including contact with other Jews. Winston's access was all but unprecedented.
As a nonobservant Jew with little prior exposure to the Hasidic world, she never could have guessed what would happen next-that she would be introduced, slowly and covertly, to Hasidim from Satmar and other sects who were deeply unhappy with their highly restrictive way of life and sometimes desperately struggling to leave their communities. First there was Yossi, a young man who, though deeply attached to the Hasidic culture in which he was raised, longed for a life with fewer restrictions and more tolerance. Yossi's efforts at making such a life, however, were being severely hampered by his fourth grade English and math skills, his profound ignorance of the ways of the outside world, and the looming threat that pursuing his desires would almost certainly lead to rejection by his family and friends. Then she met Dini, a young wife and mother whose decision to deviate even slightly from Hasidic standards of modesty led to threatening phone calls from anonymous men, warning her that she needed to watch the way she was dressing if she wanted to remain a part of the community. Someone else introduced Winston to Steinmetz, a closet bibliophile worked in a small Judaica store in his community and spent his days off anxiously evading discovery in the library of the Conservative Jewish Theological Seminary, whose shelves contain non-Hasidic books he is forbidden to read but nonetheless devours, often several at a sitting. There were others still who had actually made the wrenching decision to leave their communities altogether.
Already called a "must read" by Hasidic blogger "Shtreimel," Unchosen tells the fascinating stories of these and other rebel Hasidim, serious questioners who long for greater personal and intellectual freedom than their communities allow. In so doing, Unchosen forces us to reexamine the history of these communities and asks us to consider what we choose not to see when we romanticize them.
I'm absolutely fascinated by religious transitions so I was really excited to read this. Unfortunately, this is like a 3.5 star book.
Unchosen tells us about a few people during their process of leaving Hasidic communities. As a whole, this book is fine. It's engaging and well-written. You get a feel for what these people have experienced.
Winston focuses on a few stories. Each chapter is dedicated to one person and how they are dealing with the world outside of the Hasidic one. I felt that this was a good choice, as we were able to see them as individuals facing their life. Through these stories, we were able to compare and contrast different experiences.
However, I wish the terminology would have been more accurate. The vast majority of what she describes is just common Orthodox Jews. She tends to use the word Hasidic when Ultra-Orthodox would have captured what she meant. I didn't feel like there was enough of an explanation of the uniqueness of Hasidim and specifically, the differences between Hasiduiot. It is unclear how these different groups connect to each other as well.
I also couldn't help but think Winston could have gone deeper. She describes the struggles within fitting into the secular world but she doesn't really discuss the psychology of it all. I mean, who are the people who decide to leave? What makes someone leave? What makes someone stay? Are there similarities between those who leave? Why?
Winston was content to simply list out their stories but some more analysis would have done wonders. I'd love to read an engaging discussion about insular religious groups and whether it's possible to be both open and yet religious stringent. Did Winston truly feel that she had blended into the community? What did she, with her sociology training, make out from these encounters?
Everything is very skin deep in this book and it's a shame because it had a lot of potential. To conclude, this does provide some insight into the world of Orthodox Jews but I feel there's a missed opportunity here to do something bigger.
What I'm Taking With Me - I also feel that there are so many books about people leaving Ultra-Orthodox communities but so few books about the beauty of such communities. And, obviously, that makes sense but it's such a pity. I was adopted into a fairly Orthodox community and my life changed for the better because of it. - Some of the people described seem to have mental health issues that have nothing to do with their religious shift and this doesn't get spoken about enough. Is there a connection between the two? - Honestly, I finished this book like a month ago and I'm struggling to remember much of it. - I would love to do some research about the Israeli Orthodox Jews, especially focusing on the economics of these communities.
------------------------------ I spent my Shabbat reading this like a proper Jewish rebel (cause this book is quite bleak and you're not meant to read such books on Shabbat).
I really enjoyed this book and learned a lot from this study of a particular subset of Jewish Hasidic communities in New York City.
As part of a PHD dissertation, Hella Winston got to know a number of Hasidic "rebels" (both internal and external to the communities). Despite it arising from a thesis, this book does not have an academic tone to it at all. It feels more like a series of intertwined journal entries, carefully chosen and intelligently told, with humility and every effort made not to impose her own interpretations and judgments.
There are moments of vividly tragic hilarity, such as her story of how close she got to one of her subjects who then had a psychological breakdown, inconveniently just prior to and continuing into shabbos. His grandmother called Winston for help and vague negotiations began regarding how to care for the grandson on the sabbath. The question is begged in situations such as this: do people get driven crazy by their insular community or do they leave their community because they are crazy? It's all about insider vs outsider perspective.
These stories are unique and particular to one community but they also contain themes of human connectedness and our desires and fears regarding breaking those connections by failing or refusing to conform to communally constructed identities. Anyone who struggles with these issues, who has felt the pain and isolation caused by crossing a line should be able to relate to this book on some level.
The two major blunders Hella Winston commits in the writing of "Unchosen" have deprived her of any respectable following. The first error concerns her research design; the second, her failure to compensate for what is clearly a lack of knowledge about the concepts she chooses to discuss. In opting to exclusively interview a community's malcontents (really, several communities, whose relationship to each other is never explained, save they are all somehow "Hasidic"), one would expect to find a wealth of background information about the community and the people who choose to remain in it to make the decisions of these malcontents intelligible. Instead, all we get are the hotly charged condemnations of the community with no understanding of how these communities actually function given their alleged failures. Furthermore, Winston doesn't really seem to know what the concept she most consistently bandies around, "Hasidic", actually means or how to distinguish it from other signifiers of "extreme" Jewish observance that she uses, such as "Litvish", "Yeshivish", or "Haredi". In fact, every single one of the beliefs and rituals she describes as belonging to "Hasidic" ideology and practice are actually common to all sects of Orthodox Judaism. The few things about "Hasidic" belief she actually correctly identifies all apply to statements about its founding ideals that nobody is around to verify, and that certainly don't bear much on the lives of her subject. If we can't identify what these people are struggling against, how are we to make these struggles intelligible? From Winston's book we cannot, and they unfortunately instead read as the jaded words of malcontents devoid of the meaning that it was Winston's job to infuse into them.
Riveting. Engrossing. More a collection of anecdotes than an academic, formal sociological study, Winston tells the story of Hasids, ex-Hasids, and soon-to-be-ex-Hasids who for one reason or another could not live within the rules of the Satmar community (usually because they wanted to watch movies, wear different clothes, read secular books and newspapers, etc). In a review of a book called "A Hope in the Unseen" about an affirmative-action student who struggles and then succeeds at Brown University, the writer used the phrase "a suspense novel of the human spirit" to describe it. That phrase fits Unchosen just as well. Winston's view is complex and nuanced, although unapologetically "modern" and secular. Despite the sometimes blistering criticisms of Hasidism that wind up in the book (mostly coming from disaffected Hasids themselves), Unchosen is not without love and appreciation for their way of life. Compassion and empathy wells up in the text (and, one hopes, in the reader) when Winston begins to talk about the possibility that Hasidic practice and law is, in a sense, a result of the terrible psychological scars left from the Destruction. Some Hasidic rebbes have taught that G-d brought the Holocaust upon the Jews as punishment for neglecting the mitzvot, assimilating, mixing with gentiles, etc. The community's terror of disappointing G-d again is palpable. Also enlightening to learn just how poorly prepared the average Satmar Hasid is for life outside the community: it's basically impossible. Lacking even a high school education in secular subjects and often uncomfortable with English (Yiddish is spoken in most homes) means few job prospects in the outside world, and even teaching Talmud to Modern Orthodox girls is apparently considered an immodest job for a Satmar man. And there's some rather damning material, which I had previously heard only as rumour, exposing the commonly accepted practice of cheating on welfare and public assistance programs (huge families of 8-11 children and low-paying jobs for the one breadwinner tend to necessitate some creativity in making ends meet). Fascinating look at a hidden world and its discontents.
This book was full of inconsistencies and it seems to me that the author never fully understood the people or the community that she was writing about. She tried, I give her credit for that, but the writing was naive, and not very good either.
I LOVE books on insular, orthodox religious groups. No idea why. They just fascinate me - Amish, Hutterite, Hasidim, Mormons. Why? Perhaps, as Winston points out in her introduction, we are both fascinated and revolted by the idea of living in such a close-knit, rule-ridden community because of the complete "otherness" of this life. On one hand, to live in a closed community can seem so appealing. You know your path in life, the rules are clear and easy to follow. Live a good life and support and a marriage partner are virtually guaranteed, as is a job and a home. On the flip side, any deviation from the lifestyle is not tolerated. To be one of the "chosen" is a great burden and contact with the outside world is guaranteed pollution of the mind.
Winston follows a group of Satmar Hasidim (a sect of Orthodox Judaism). Like more obvious groups, the Lubavitchers, the Satmar are a large, insular community of Jews. They follow a rebbe who rules the community. As with most orthodox religious groups, the men make the laws and the women rule the home and raise good, observant children. However, many of the members of these communities chafe against the life style and restrictions. Leaving is not easy. The Hasidim are given exceptions from education standards as they have their own schools. Most members are uneducated, extremely poor (a vast majority of the group are on public assistance), often married at a young age and many only speak Yiddish.
Winston interviewed a number of members of the Satmar, Lubavitch and other Orthodox communities. Some are perfectly happy with their lives. Others tell of leaving, or trying to leave the community, the struggles to get an education and learn English, rejection by family, problems with depression and substance abuse and other by-products of their insular world. This book is absolutely fascinating - a rare and odd glimpse into another world - Brooklyn. While many of the writer’s subjects do face huge hurdles, there are also many stories of Jews who have left the community and successfully remade themselves, often with the help of grandparents. My only beef with the book? Too darn short!
The first thing I have to say is that this book is well written, you wouldn't know it was written by a sociology major. Winston blends her academic knowledge of hasidic history and development seamlessly with the narratives she's telling. Even smoothly correcting Yossi when he proclaims that the forced ignorance in which the community members are kept is an evil ploy by community leaders to keep them under control. Another thing that sets this book apart from others like it is Winston's solid grasp of what she heard and witnessed, she overcomes her lack of Yiddish by listening carefully and incorporating everything she learned into her narratives.
Although almost every character she introduces could well become a chapter - or three - of their own, Winston skillfully avoids doing this, instead she keeps things simple and moving right along.
Her ability to convey the complex ideas Yitzchak is struggling with is admirable (and enviable, but I guess she didn't become a great reporter by accident) and her treatment of Yossi, who is probably the composite character we're told about in the introduction is also very skillful and honest.
In the short conclusion she conclusively deals with the oft-heard exhortation that, while one may find problems with the Jewish community they should "not judge Judaism by the Jews" by pointing out that Judaism was never a philosophy that lives in a vacuum, rather it is the lived experience that makes it what it is...or isn't.
Because nearly every Jew I know is college educated, Ms. Winston's descriptions of Hasidic communities seem closer to to the lives of some Christian Fundamentalists neighbors and distant relatives. The requirement to avoid learning about the outside world through reading, television or radio is much closer to the lives of Mormon youth while on their missions than to the lives of the my intellectually curious Jewish friends.
Many books about fundamentalist communities are written by those who left. Usually they describe an obviously immoral act by someone in authority that rocked the author's faith and caused him or her to leave the community. Ms. Winston's book does not follow that formula. She describes the lives of several young people who didn't fit into their conformist Hasidic communities. She does not portray the faithful as tyrants or those who left as saints.
Unchosen is an easy read for someone who is a total outsider to get a look at Hasidic life in New York.
"What ultimately ended Yossi’s marriage was that he bought a TV. It wasn’t just the TV itself that was a problem, although it certainly was a problem, given its potential to contaminate the household with images of the corrupt, secular society, even though Yossi planned to use it only to watch rental videos. More important, though, was what the act of bringing it into the house revealed to his unsuspecting wife about the kind of person Yossi was and, more ominously, the kind of person he might become. After all, if he was “open-minded” enough to watch rented movies, then there was no way of knowing what other things he might do. It was a slippery slope, and, without firm knowledge of his own limits, Yossi might not know where to stop: watching videos at home might lead to other transgressions (books, magazines, nonkosher food, God knows what) and away from the 613 commandments that he was bound to observe as a religious Jew."
Fascinating book about the lives of some Hasidics who leave their sheltered Brooklyn sects and try to navigate the freedoms offered in the big city. The book highlights the ignorance about sex and education, and also discusses the history of this culture. I would highly recommend this sensitively written book to anyone interested in learning more about Hasidic life.
Commendable for the primary research done, but ultimately vapid and fails in the attempt to portray the dense psychological and spiritual tensions at issue. A kind of underground Hasidic travelogue more than anything.
This is a fascinating exploration of the Hasidic culture and what happens when people try to leave it. The author follows several people who, in various ways, either try to leave the Hasidic culture or stay, but adapt their way of life so is to hide their discontent with the culture.
There are so many rules within the community and if you violate even one, no matter how minor, the community will call you out on it, try to force you back into compliance or ostracize you. The rules are equally strict for both men and women, but in different ways. There is a huge onus on women to dress modestly, shave their heads, and cover their head after marriage and do nothing that might “tempt“ men. Men must not gaze at women lest they be “tempted.” I have to interject something here: how about men just being taught to control themselves. A lot of fundamentalist religions and cultures treat women the same way, including fundamentalist Christians and Muslims, who also require women to dress modestly and cover their hair lest men be “tempted.” Even in secular communities, school-age girls have restrictive dress codes so is not to “tempt or distract” boys. There is no teaching boys to just control themselves. It’s akin asking a rape victim what she was wearing, as if that was why she was raped.
Rant over.
Anyway, the subject matter is fascinating to me since I was raised as a Reform Jew, which the Hasidic don’t consider a Jew at all.
In the back of the book, there is a Yiddish glossary, which would probably be more helpful in a physical book than in an e-book since you don’t even know it’s there until you get to the end.
Good quote:
“However, while I tried my best to remain open to all points of view, I couldn’t help feeling angered by the treatment many had been subjected to, merely for asserting their individual desires, or daring to question. There is no doubt that parents suffer greatly when a child rejects their way of life and everything they believe in. When their beliefs tell them that, in doing so, their child will suffer, it must be excruciating. At the same time, however, the need to coerce people‘s behavior through fear and shame suggests a fundamental weakness in the belief system itself. To feel forced to abuse or reject a loved one for his or her failure to conform to community standards seems to negate any claim to true religiousness. But this is the paradox of fundamentalism.”
So rarely is a doctoral thesis as intimate and yet still academic as this book. I have significant issues with many aspects of these insular communities - the community peer pressure, the hiding and secrecy of unacceptable and immoral acts upon children, the exploitation of government welfare, and most of all, the relatively common belief that the Holocaust was a punishment from G-d onto his own chosen people for assimilating into the countries they lived in, to any degree, in order to be able to do business, speak to others, etc. That the Holocaust was the Jews' own fault and the punishment no different from the flood that wiped out civilization except for Noah and the inhabitants of his ark. This is not the G-d I was raised learning about, and to define the Holocaust as anything beyond the genocide of innocent millions developed and run by an evil psychopath is repulsive to me.
Ms. Winston presents her interaction and observations of its discontents to highlight the serious mental, emotional, and spiritual devastation that can arise from simple questions: this in a society that elevates philosophical thought and conversation. Her Afterward states it perfectly: ..."the need to coerce people's behavior through fear and shame [not to mention guilt: imagine the burden of ruining a beloved sibling's marriage opportunities because you dare think and question] suggests a fundamental weakness in the belief system itself."
Like many other religious extremists, Ms. Winston notes that several people she spoke with clarified that their discontent was not with the religion itself but rather with the community that forces them to conform or be ostracized.
Again, like a lot of other extreme religious views - whether Mormons, Jews, Evangelicals, Muslims, etc. - I'm reminded of the powerfully insightful statement made by Miss Maudie to Scout in "To Kill a Mockingbird ": The bible in the hand of one man is worse than a whisky bottle in the hand of [another]
The last two books I've read have been about people leaving fundamental religious communities. This was not planned. It just turned out that way. The Outcast by Jolina Petersheim is fiction. Unchosen is non-fiction, written from a PhD. dissertation. In reality leaving one of these communities is more difficult than depicted in fiction. (Not too surprising.) There are already set-in barriers to discourage leaving, along with other unwanted behaviors. The most obvious deterrent is fear: fear of God, fear of hell, and fear of community reaction. Fear and other problems inherent to these communities cause trauma. This trauma leads to drug use, alcoholism, promiscuity, mental illness, and living double lives. On a different note, I found it interestingly sad that 1/3 of Hasidim in Williamsburg, Brooklyn are on public assistance due to culturally held values. (You have to read the book :) One way of employment, teaching in a "yeshiva" (a school where mostly Talmud, culture and general education is taught) does not pay enough to live on. Of the people in the Satmar Hasidic community (in upstate NY) 61.7% live below the poverty level. At times this causes people to resort to crime just to get by. The publication of this book in 2005 blew the lid off the fantasy world of the an Hasidic Jew. Before it was published, Hasidim was thought of in idyllic terms, much like the Amish. I first rated this book 3 stars but writing this review made me realize I found this book informative and interesting. It has a fare amount of sexual content. I find this personally disagreeable but to some degree it is essential for factual reporting.
In this book, Hella tells the story of Yossi, a 25 year old Hassidic Jewish man who rejects the Hassidic lifestyle along with the stories of several other men and women who have also left the insular communites and/or lifestyles of the Hassidic Jews living in New York. As she met more and more people from that community she learned how their belief in separation from the world and their own religious educational system leaves people emotionally scarred and lacking in knowledge of the outside world making it incredibly difficult for them to leave the Hassidic communities even if they want to. Similar to the FLDS, and possibly the Hutterites and Amish, the Hassidic Jews cut themselves off from the rest of the world to the extent that they don't even know what it is like or how to interact within it. They often speak mostly Yiddish and don't know much English, have very little education in Math, Science or Social Studies, making it difficult for them to get any kind of employment outside of their community. Women are second class citizens who are expected to marry young to a man who they are allowed to meet twice for 20 minutes each time before the wedding and are encouraged to have as many children as they possibly can. Unsuprisingly, depression and mental illness occur frequently among the Hassidic Jews. Interestingly, many of the young Hassids begin to learn about the outside world and other opinions when they visit Israel, which is much more liberal than the Hassidic Jewish communities of New York. The stories in this book are illuminating and sad.
Nice stories written from a more objective viewpoint. The author's interest in this starts out as her dissertation subject but it seems in the end that's just one more story and we don't get anything in the way of research or insight. But in context of the sort-of-genre of OTD books this would be classified in it is probably the one book I would reccomend to a stranger who wants to hear this story. It has more just human storytelling and less of the excessive narrative creating and excape-the-evil-society moralizing common in this genre.
UPDATED! I finished this and didn't change my original opinion of this book. The content is really interesting but the writing is AWFUL. It's written as if for a "tween" audience, or like the author wants to create a story in her writing style when the content is quite interesting enough. The writing style is actually distracting from the content. I had high hopes for this book--it seemed like the subject matter would be so interesting. Maybe someone else will tackle this topic someday.
Like some other reviewers, I agree that the writing style left me confused. The material was riveting, but I couldn't seem to understand who the intended audience was. I think I expected something more academic. While I applaud the level of primary research, I think the result ultimately fell flat and turned into a character study of a few people. It was an interesting read, but I expected something far more dense.
Knowing many of the people in this book, I can say that Winston oversimplified their stories and folded them into a mind-numbingly dumb account of what *some* ex-Hasidim go through after they leave their ultra-orthodox communities behind. A good book for the Orthodox Jewish neophyte in theory, but anyone with half a brain will be too distracted by the awful writing to soak up the little substance the book has to offer.
Fascinating, though the book I read has only 185 pages including the glossary, acknowledgements and notes. everything else about the edition matches. the lives of these rebels are complex and I do not envy them their choices. I can see how much simpler it would be to follow the neighbours and keep your head down. All the time I was reading my head kept saying "and these rebels are straight! what does a GLBTIA person do? "
This is a non-fiction work based on a master’s thesis by the author. It explores several Hasidic (Orthodox Jewish) sects, primarily those located in New York State. There are about half a dozen individuals that the author chooses to profile. These are men and women who were raised in one of these sects and have major conflicts between their belief system, how they want to live, and the constraints that are part of being in this religious community. Some of these individuals are trying to leave and start another life outside the sect; others are trying to live in a manner true to their beliefs within the sect. All are torn between valuing some parts of their religious community experience and rejecting other parts. Nearly all fear rejection by and loss of all contact with family members who are within the sect. One person, having separated herself from her sect, is running a sort of halfway house to assist others in similar situations.
I found this to be a very interesting book. Just getting a look at the customs and belief systems and customs of these religious sects is interesting; learning about individuals who were raised in the sects but are rebelling against the belief systems and customs that are the structure of their entire world is fascinating. I think the author does a good job of portraying these individuals sympathetically without jumping to condemnation of the sects with which they are in conflict. The only shortcoming of the book for me is that in jumping back and forth between her characters multiple times, the author made it a little more difficult for me to keep everyone clear in my mind. Four and one half stars.
A quick and interesting read. The writing style was not as riveting as I would have liked but overall a fair and solid look inside a group of people I knew very little about.
Supposedly a definitive piece of analytic journalism chronicling the lives of those who choose to leave the Hasidic community, this book instead offers glimpses into the exodi of several individuals, discussing the hardships they face upon entering secular society. Almost all examples were the same, some different by a handful of details. Very repetitive, with parallels between various stories clumsy drawn
Unity: Outcasts among the Hasids almost always arise with contact from the outside world — when they see modern society, many are drawn to it and away from their strict and often unfulfilling (or abusive) lifestyles. But, left without a community, they often find themselves adrift in the modern world. Such a feeling may be more widespread that anyone realizes.
3 Prompts: 1. How do Hasidic outcasts see the culture? * Even the most vehement ex-hasids seemed to have things they revered about their culture, and all interviewed maintained some kind of spirituality. Common criticisms arose from controlling strictures often involving sexism, family dynamics, and arranged marriages. Many rebels whiffed the outside world (either through media or through trips to israel), and came back unconvinced that Hasidic controls were the one true path to the good life.
2. What can the outside perspective tell us about genuine Hasidic values? * This book probably gives a tremendously skewed (towards modernity) perspective on Hasidic life. While an examination of the outliers in these communities might seem interesting prima facie, the very fact that those interviewed were outliers means that hearing their stories will likely not present an accurate view of what life in a Hasidic community is like.
3. To what extent to poverty and community pressure trap Hasids? * Many rebels were kept in the community (albeit unhappily) by means of family and economic pressure. Education and lack of outside work opportunities, especially for men, seem to constitute a carefully crafted strategy for social cohesion, and the emphasis on marriage and matchmaking (especially for one’s children) seem to keep several Hasids from ever seriously contemplating escape.
2 Implications: 1. Since exposure seems to spur most rebels away from the community, further censorship seems justified from the perspective of community leaders, who think that the Hasidic community represents the one true path to salvation on earth. If the primary goal of Rabbis in these communities is to perpetuate them, better censorship seems a surefire cement.
2. Bad marriages (either by the rebels’ parents or by the rebels themselves) seem to be at the heart of many of the rebels’ gripes. Community leaders should likely revies the matchmaking process. Matchmaking itself seems integral to the community.
Rating: 3/5 * The organization of this book was hard to pick out. Ostensibly, it was supposed to be a work of social science, but it turned into more of a nonfiction novel. Additionally, no clear message or sociological theme emerged from the book, as it consisted of more of a hodgepodge of stories. Still, this book presented an interesting and intimate look into Hasidic judaism for the layman.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Fascinating and disturbing book. I had prior knowledge that the Hasidic community is very insular and of themselves. Started mostly by refugees from Europe after Hitler and WWII, apparently what they have created is a self imposed ghetto of their own. In my experience any religion or movement that says you must do things our way without thinking about it on your own is more a cult than anything else. I understand that Ms. Winston interviewed Hasidic people that were many times not content with that way of life and so it is not representative of whole community but the revelations such women not being able to drive (sound like Saudi Arabia to anyone?), that education other than religious is almost non existent and that most don't speak English well enough to even get a GED if they so choose is deeply disturbing to me.
Reads more like a whirlwind tour of a few individuals lives than a comprehensive text, but still useful for understanding the largely hidden world. Winston is clearly moved by the plight of those who feel trapped inside Hasidism - lacking the job skills, the education, the money and often even the english language skills to easily build any life away from a community which demands high levels of social compliance.
It was incidental to most of the book, but this book made me very glad to live in a country with a reasonable social welfare system, and mostly free education actually. For a land of "free choice", the actual choices people are able to make are pretty limited.
unlike other books about chasidim that i have read, Unchosen is specifically about a few who struggle with maintaining their faith... some struggle with their faith in god, but all struggle with their faith in the community.
what makes it especially interesting is that several of the characters are Satmar, allowing a rare glimpse into their especially insular community.
i know i sound all national geographic, but i can't help but to be fascinated by their devotion to such a rigid way of life...