Die Hoffnung der Chani Kaufman

by Eve Harris

Chani hat es geschafft. Sie hat den Mann geheiratet, den sie sich ausgesucht hat – nicht selbstverständlich, wenn man in einer jüdisch-orthodoxen Gemeinde lebt. Und was nun? ›Seid fruchtbar und mehret euch‹, natürlich, aber genau das funktioniert eben nicht. Chani ist verzweifelt, denn ihr Mann Baruch kann sie verstoßen, wenn sie ihm keine Nachkommen schenkt. Und wer wäre sie dann noch unter ihresgleichen? Zwischen Rabbi, Fruchtbarkeitsklinik und ihrer Schwiegermutter muss Chani ›HaSchem‹ ein Schnippchen schlagen.

Genres: Fiction, Jewish, Book Club, Religion, Contemporary, Judaism, British Literature

507 pages, Kindle Edition

First published August 1, 2013

About the author

Librarian Note:
There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name.

Eve Harris was born to Israeli-Polish parents in Chiswick, West London, in 1973. She taught for 12 years at inner-city comprehensives and independent schools in London and also in Tel Aviv, after moving to Israel in 1999. She returned to London in 2002 to resume teaching at an all girls' Catholic convent school. 'The Marrying of Chani Kaufman' was inspired by her final year of teaching at an all girls' ultra-Orthodox Jewish school in North West London. Eve lives in London with her husband, Jules, and their daughter Rosie.

Reviews

[Elaine · Rating 1 out of 5]

Only HaShem knows what the Booker Prize folks were thinking when they longlisted this one. This is chick lit in the most derogatory sense of the term - badly written female-centric drivel about romance and family. It's also a bubbe meise in the way my own bubbe used that phrase - which she did not use in the Wikipedia-approved sense of an old wives' tale, to her, in her Yinglish vernacular, bubbe meiser meant an movie or book appealing to sentimentality (so many times after we'd both gotten choked up at a movie, she'd put her tissues back in her purse, and say - well, that was a real bubbe meiser, ey, kid. She didn't mean it as a compliment). (In fact if there was anything I liked about this book, it was the way all the Yiddish words stirred up memories of my much-missed grandmother, even though she was anything but frum and even though she certainly didn't fit either of the two molds of Jewish womanhood presented in this book - status-obsessed, elitist and controlling or downtrodden, overwhelmed by reproduction, slovenly and misshapen).

Because yes, for a book whose ostensible purpose is to satisfy our prurient curiosity by giving us a glimpse into what goes on behind the closed doors, mikvah walls, and gender-separating screens of Haredi (ultra-Orthodox) life, Harris can't manage to drop her outsider's perspective - we get a greatest hits of observant Judaism coupled with a rather sneering attitude towards all the Haredim other than our young hero/heroine (and the other heroine, the Rebbitzin). If you aren't trying to bust out of this world (abruptly, like the Rebbitzin and her son Avromi) or in gentle pink-knicker- and- novel- fuelled rebellion (like Chani and her affianced, Baruch), then if female, you are fat, herd-oriented, gossipy, downtrodden, a bad housekeeper and voiceless (unless you are the wicked witch mother in law) and if you are male, you are doggedly observant and utterly impractical, lost in a fuzz of wooly thoughts about God. (In one jarring moment, but the first of many that didn't ring true, Chaim hesitates in helping his wife Rivka as she is hemmoraging from a miscarriage, because she is niddeh (impure) because of the blood. Obviously, I DON'T know what goes on behind those closed doors all over Brooklyn, but every Orthodox friend I've ever had has always emphasized that saving a life trumps other Halakhic rules, and c'mon, Chaim may be ultra-orthodox, but he's meant to be deeply devoted to his wife...Whatever, Harris doesn't deal in subtleties).

And the writing. Ugh! It's atrocious and repetitive. Everyone is "skinny as a pickle." (One thing I know about Yiddish from my grandparents is that it's linguistically rich, a trait its speakers often infused into English. But Harris's characters talk like parrots with a limited but folksy vocabulary). Everyone tries to refrain from doing things because it's "beneath them." Mix it up a little, Eve, you were nominated for a Booker Prize!

(The book's biggest blooper though, as reviewer Jakey Gee pointed out, has to be when a room of Orthodox Jews are described as "dancing like Cossacks." I want to spit three times to avert the Harris evil eye of infelicitous historical analogies!)

Also, complete failure of plausibility and characterization. As noted above, Harris's mean-spirited portrayals, especially of Mrs. Kaufman and Baruch's mother, and the nameless other women, utterly fail to convey what I have to believe is a sense of community that is warm, supportive and comforting in addition to (as Harris shows us) being judging, repressive and confining. Also, the book teases and titillates with the promise of a glimpse into the mysterious wedding night of two innocents who know nothing about sex, but it turns out that Harris lacks the skills to really put us into their minds. Chani's a total innocent (an inadvertent glance at a naked man leads her to call a penis a "snout") but she splurges her paltry savings on racy lingerie for her wedding night. Really? How does she even know to desire that? She doesn't watch TV, read magazines or books, but I guess the desire for a plunge bra and see-through panties is innate in the female of the species? On the other hand, Avromi supposedly doesn't know what contraception is or even what an "egg" is, but he's doing well in university, and is sophisticated enough to charm a sophisticated fellow student. Your head will spin with all the inconsistencies.

Trite and exploitative. If you are interested in this interesting subject, I recommend The Unchosen. While it's told from the perspective of people who are struggling with leaving Hasidic communities, at least it has first-person authenticity, and in those very struggles, much of what's valuable in those communities is illuminated. Harris's book is anything but illuminating, despite the candelabra on the cover.

[Frieda Vizel · Rating 1 out of 5]

I should begin my review by saying two things about my own interest in this book: 1. I grew up ultra-orthodox and 2. I left ultra-orthodoxy at 25.

The book is a compilation of several fictional stories about a few individuals in the ultra-orthodox community. The stories are unoriginal; about a couple meeting through a shidduch, a meddlesome mother in law, a young yeshiva boy who has an affair with a black girl and a middle-aged woman who runs off from the community. The stories are cut up in chapters that skip between the different stories, so all stories span the length of the book. But most of the book actually reads like a long long long introduction to the climax: the salacious wedding night scene between Chani Kaufman and her groom. The author clearly loves to write about the going-ons between couples. I regret to say however, that except for the final chapters, the couples’ going-ons are rather uneventful.

The people in the book seem mostly stifled, uninspired, obsessed with Hashem and repressed by the religious society.

My own experiences make me very open to criticism of the ultra-orthodox community. I have nothing against books that reflect the problems which are in plain view or hidden, but at the same time I am very in tune with nuance of the culture. It is very frustrating and grating to read a book that is full of giant inaccuracies. Not inaccuracies of ritual, but inaccuracies of the cultural essence, the characters and the spirit of the people. So my problem with this fairly negative book is not that it is negative, but that the negativities are often inaccurate.

For example:

The ultra-orthodox women have many children. While to the outsider, each child may seem to come as quickly as a single breath, well, that is not how it actually happens. The biological law of the nine month pregnancy applies to religious women too! (Surprise!) So young Chani Kauffman whose mother had many children “had watched her mother’s stomach inflate and deflate like a bullfrog’s throat” we get probably the worst, inhumane and ridiculous description of the life of a woman who has many children, condensed into one terrible metaphor. A nine month process is described as superficially as the duration of a breath. Are women really getting pregnant and unpregnant as grotesquely as a bullfrogs throat’s dilation? The author expands: “Chani’s mother had become a machine whose parts were grinding and worn… an exhausted mountain of dilapidated flesh, endlessly suckling, soothing, patting or feeding... Her father sowed his seed time and time again in his wife’s worn out womb”. Is this realistically how big families happen, or is this rather overflowing with the condescension of store-bought feminism? I think the latter. Women everywhere work themselves to sheer exhaustion for whatever they value; and the ultra-orthodox women do too. The assumption that this makes them machine like objects without any agency or pleasure is classic narrow-mindedness. All that this description reflects is someone’s snap judgment of large families. It lacks any empathy or insight. In fact, when Chani’s mother is actually seen in action throughout the book she is engaged and warm and not at all 'a machine of dilapidated flesh.'

There are many more such problems, for instance in the way the children experience being stifled (they wonder about bacon; right, because another culture’s diet is REALLY what a curious person would think about) or in the radical, unrealistic way the rebbetzin runs off from the community.

Well. The inaccuracies were actually only the least of my problems with this book. The writing is, to quote its own words “not talking like a mentch!” I have no idea who the hell the Man Booker prize people are, or what their prize is, but I cannot begin to understand how a book like this one can receive an award. The writing tries very hard to be cute, so hard; it distracts from what’s happening in the stories. And the stories are told in chopped up pieces, hopping from one character’s tale to another, giving you a long drawn out piece about Chaim’s interest in Chani's looks, or in Mrs. Levy’s scheme to stop the shidduch, so you lose your tale just when you were maybe (maybe!) starting to get faintly interested in one saga or another. In trying to describe what these characters are like, nothing comes to my mind but their physical characteristics (either great youthful beauty or terrible unsightliness) and their endless kvetching. The characters are so flat, that when you read it you almost see caricatures get pasted in from a crafty handbook of stereotypes. There is very little dialog, all of it stale. (example: “Chany Kaufman, your behavior today was inappropriate at the very least.’ ‘Yes, Mrs. Beranrd,” Chani whispered. “What’s that?” snapped the Deputy Head. “I’m very sorry, Mrs. Bernard.” Etc.)

Lots of things happen because the author tells you it happened (“they grew closer”) not because the scenes are in the book, in over-decorated language riddled with bad metaphors: “her eyes shone with liquid apology” and she walks down the street “her legs pumping like pistons.” Or my favorite “he flamed the colour of chraine.” The pacing is distracting too because of the way the story jumps abruptly from character to character, but worse because you spend so much time with the drawn out descriptive language, nothing happens, and then suddenly it is six months later. Most of all, the appeal of this book seems to lie in its exciting wedding night scene (which isn’t so exciting after all) and this single episode seems to be the book, with three hundred pages of adjectives fluffed around it. In all, I had a hard time getting through it and I would not recommend it.

PS: I actually hesitated to write this review because I really would like to see more work on the fascinating insular culture. I wrote it because I asked myself: should we embrace any work merely because there’s a scarcity? Is inaccurate work better than nothing? Well, to me the answer is no. I don’t think we will encourage quality work that digs deep and tells original, human, colorful stories if we don’t demand higher standards from writers. Just because people are interested in these “strange secluded Jews” doesn’t mean we should let anything fly. It’s up to the readers to read critically and demand the nuance and accuracy that makes a work at once engaging and informative.

From my blog.

[Nora · Rating 2 out of 5]

Please don't read this book if you don't know a lot about Judaism.

I would have liked to give this book a bad review from start to finish, however I can't. The characters are well developed and three-dimensional. I am sure some people from the Haredi community do feel the way Eve Harris describes it. But she makes one belief that this is the majority. It is NOT!

The gross generalisation and simplification of a religious niche is appalling.

If you don't know a lot about judaism or are committed to learn a lot this book will mislead you.
One of the things that make me furious was the definition of the Hasidic community as "... people who throw stones and bottles ... at those who transgress." This is not an evil of the Hasidic community but an evil of humanity. If you want to know what normal people of that community are like there is a great documentary by Oprah (http://www.oprah.com/own-oprahs-next-...).
As well as the website of a Hasidic community: http://www.chabad.org/
If you want to know about more modern orthodox jews the website and youtube channel of http://jewinthecity.com/ is brilliant.
I hope this helps you.

[Judy · Rating 1 out of 5]

"The bride stood like a pillar of salt, rigid under layers of itchy petticoats." This inept metaphor is the first line of this insulting, cliche-ridden, unreadable novel, and is a good summary of the author's acute hated for all things Jewish and orthodox.

Having this book long-listed for the Man Booker Prize was like awarding Yasir Arafat the Nobel Peace Prize. Ostensibly this is a story about a very young couple, Chanie and Baruch, who marry after an almost non-existent, rapid courtship, but it also involves their parents, teachers, and particularly the Rebetzzin, the rabbi's wife who, like almost all other characters in this unforgivably bad book, harbor secret antipathy, resentment, sadness and unmet desires due to their living according to Torah values and laws.

The author's bigotry is unending: The women wear "mousy wigs," Chani's mother and sister "shift(ed) their ample backsides" to make room for Chani to sit; the wedding hall is filled with "the stink of body odour and stale breath." The rabbi's beard is "greasy," and kitchen floors in these homes are of "sticky linoleum." We even learn that a woman's nightgown is polyester. The "pious" waiting to pass security in Jerusalem to visit the Western Wall grow "irritable," and even the Wall itself, known to inspire awe even among the most secular of individuals, is on first reference described as "foreboding."

Get it? These people are dirty, their homes are dirty (the number of references to dirty and unkempt homes is unreal), they dress cheaply, and they hate their lives because they are orthodox. In addition to these endlessly egregious anti-Semitic slurs, some of what Harris states about Orthodox practice is so blatantly false that the entire book appears an amateur attempt to ridicule this segment of the Jewish world. For example, it is not against Jewish law for a bride to wear jewelry at her wedding. Another gross inaccuracy would take too long to explain here.

While many of the problems that Harris tries to underscore in the orthodox world are real: too-fast engagements, and under-the-surface tensions among people who long for more involvement in the secular world, her zealousness in highlighting the assumed misery of this lifestyle becomes insufferable.
Harris must be proud of her five-page glossary of Hebrew and Yiddish terms, meant to show how much inside information she has, but in focusing on a few Yiddish words, she has totally missed the beauty, the depth, the complexity and the heart of Orthodox Judaism, a lifestyle I chose more than 25 years ago and which has enriched my life immeasurably. I don't even have a sticky linoleum floor! And I don't wear polyester to bed!

For a far more accurate look at this world, do yourselves a favor and skip this insulting excuse for a novel and instead see the movie "Fill The Void," made by an ultra-orthodox woman filmmaker that unlike this piece of drivel, deserved all the accolades it received.

POSTSCRIPT June 2019:
I am amazed at how many people continue to discover this review I wrote several years ago and who comment about it. Since I am often asked what books are available that show Orthodoxy in a friendlier light, I will recommend my memoir, "The Skeptic and the Rabbi: Falling in Love with Faith," published in September 2017 by She Writes Press. It is an honest, often funny, and sometimes poignant reflection about how I unexpectedly became involved in Torah study and how I integrated -- sometimes awkwardly -- into a community comprised mostly of "ba'alei teshuva" --formerly secular Jews who returned to their spiritual roots.

[Mark Staniforth · Rating 4 out of 5]

There is one significant flaw at the heart of Eve Harris’ debut novel, 'The Marrying Of Chani Kaufman'. It is one which will have no end of academics wringing their hands in exasperation; Folio founders sighing with relief that their new Prize actually has a point.
And it is this: ‘The Marrying Of Chani Kaufman’, Harris’s story of the imminent marriage of two young Haredi Jews, is far, far too readable. It is carry-round-the-house too readable. It is stay-up-way-too-late too readable. It is absolutely, undoubtedly, MAN Booker Prize longlist too readable.
Two years ago, an awful fuss was raised over the ‘readability’ of the Booker Prize longlist. The argument got so heated a bunch of literary types went off in a huff: hence the Folio Prize was born. There were fears the Booker Prize would heed the warning and stockpile its lists with impenetrable introspection from hereon in.
Not so. The inclusion of ‘The Marriage Of Chani Kaufman’ on this year’s longlist is a victory for all those who refuse to cast clumsy, generalised judgements often before they have even turned a page. This is a book which deserves to be on the list for a number of reasons: chiefly, that it is no less than bloody good.
Chani Kaufman is approaching her marriage to Baruch Levy, a boy who glimpsed her at a different wedding, and pursued her according to ultra-orthodox protocol over a handful of awkward, strictly-no-touching dates.
The pair’s real fears – of suitability and, mainly, sex – form the central narrative of the novel, which explores each of the characters’ complex predicaments in turn, and not always chronologically.
Other threads include the compelling life story of Rivka Zilberman – the Rebbetzin, or Rabbi’s wife – through her introduction into the Haredi faith in Jerusalem, her marriage to the ambitious, increasingly conservative Chaim, and her problems coping with family tragedy in the context of such an hermetic existence. Following the same broad theme, their first son, Avromi, is struggling to reconcile his belief with the shapely distractions of his study at a secular university.
Together, those threads weave a complex, proud portrait of a faith which, like any of what we might dare call ‘closed societies’ brings fresh problems with each generation, not least the coming-of-age.
But genuinely fascinating as it is, it is not just its insider detail – Harris taught for a year at an ultra-orthodox school – that lifts this relatively ordinary love story into the realms of something quite unique. There is deft humour running throughout this book, and Harris’ characterisations are superb: the impish, ever-so-slightly mischievous Chani; the well-meaning, cautiously defiant Baruch; the contrasting sets of parents, from Chani’s down-at-heel Hendon suburbanites to Baruch’s pompous pair, not least his garishly obnoxious mother who deviously seeks to destroy their alliance. She is the subject of a number of glorious set-pieces: another relates the tale of a school field trip which is accidentally led astray to the cusp of a nudist camp.
Occasionally, just occasionally, the dialogue lapses too much into the tell-not-show variety, and a couple of cliches crept past the editors’ pens. But this book is so devour-able that that is really nit-picking. I put down after its immensely satisfying ending, and immediately yearned for more. Sod the readability-police. Isn’t that what good books should be all about?

[Hillary · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this novel! I know some people have stated it is "clearly" driven by hatred of the Haredi movement, or that it is "obviously" written by someone who holds a grudge against this type of very observant Jewish community. I do not know the motivation or intention of the author but I would not have come to that conclusion. I found the women in this book to be very well developed, sympathetic characters. The Rebbetzin is fascinatin. I did not expect the choices she made when she became observant, and the life-events she experienced to affect her the way they did, and I found myself hoping and worrying for her as she entered a spiritual crisis. Chani, on the other hand, I initially worried about because she had been born and raised in such a choiceless environment. Her strength took me by surprise and by the end I was no longer worried about her. I don't feel like this book casts negative aspersions on the Haredi people. I think this book speaks more about what it means to have individual autonomy, and what it means to make the choice to give over your choices to a higher power.

[Hermien · Rating 5 out of 5]

At first I thought it was Chic Lit meets the ultra orthodox Jewish community in London, but the book went much deeper than that. I thought the going back and forth in time and moving between characters really worked and made the whole story more interesting.

[Jake Goretzki · Rating 2 out of 5]

Beseder, but not exactly yoffi.

This is, of course, a promising proposition and ought to be fascinating, after all. I give you: an intimate look at the unknown, parallel Charedi universe. You know: black fedoras, white shirts, living daily life in awe of all-seeing ha Shem (all-seeing, that is, apart from the bit where you get-around-his-objection-to-you-showing-your-hair-by-donning-a-nylon-syrup, all-seeing).

I suppose I went in hoping for, well, a sort of Brick Lane goes Golders Green. For strong insights into what drives Chani, her family, the charedi kehila. Yet nothing really happened here that surprised me. In some ways, if not exactly stereotypical, the novel feels a little written for the daytripper, visiting the Judaica section for the first time. Here’s the matchmaker. Here’s a mikveh! Here’s a mezuzah! Let’s have some lokshen pudding. Here’s some dancing in circles (rather oddly described as “like Cossacks” - of all the similes you’d pick). I’ve actually only read extracts from Brick Lane in essays on fiction, but I was looking for that promised sense of otherness, ‘ostranenie’, worlds within worlds and cultural conflict.

This world, on the other hand, felt rather flat. I didn’t get a real sense of what was driving the players in it, apart from stultifying conformity and the fear of gossip. Maybe that flatness and ambivalence is precisely the point.

It’s a novel though that also seems to want to have its ougah and eat it. On the one hand, Chani is spirited and assertive, in her small way. We’re supposed to cheer for her, surely. But her rebelliousness is pretty tenuous. She doesn’t evolve or achieve much (beyond the passing threat of a walkout) and she gets fully on board. Meanwhile we have the Rebbetzin / Becca / Rivka (lost her name, see), heading to what we’re non-committedly told is ‘freedom’ – though we never quite get a full hold on what drew her into strict religion in the first place, beyond a sense of belonging, and her reward rings hollow at the end.

Perhaps we decide for ourselves. My issue is that I didn’t get a sense of great difference or dilemma. In some ways it felt ‘Young Adult’, this. Small rebellions, but whatever you do, you still have to go to bed by ten and you’re not allowed TV.

Beside this, I found the writing also sometimes let us down with its plainness. While we aren’t spared a roll of (familiar) Yiddishisms, I think there might have been much more room for nuance and register. For characters who studiously don’t watch TV and live in a separate world, our youths, for example, come out with ever such familiar patter “He was no Adonis”; ”It’ll be alright on the night!”. Give me some cuss words. Give me the Yiddish for ‘kusit’. Come on.

And a few first novel tics I thought an editor ought to have picked up:

“The deer watched her pass, her reflection made miniature in their large, dark eyes” [who’s seeing this? Whoever it is has got bloody amazing eyesight]. “The bird pecked at the ground, regarding her with her beady eye” [I don’t believe you].

And that odd exchange with the man running the pedalos on the Serpentine, who says to a couple of conservatively dressed Orthodox Jewish teenagers:

“Any unsafe conduct or jumping into the lake will mean that I come and fetch you personally with the park police and escort you off the premises. Understood?”

[Wait there. Hang on, Maybe he was joking. Maybe this is the kind of ‘ostranenie’ that I’m not giving the novel credit for – by not telling us that he is joking. Discuss].

At times too, I found the language a little jaded: tears pricking eyelids, thoughts spinning wildly in heads, features ‘meek and mild’.

So, a great subject, but a little flat and unadventurous. Perhaps its ambivalence and neutrality are the very points I’m missing.

[Amy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Oh I enjoyed this read, and I see why it has such acclaim! But I think the audiences who would appreciate it are narrow. It definitely falls into the experience of those of us who are secular Jews, but have pondered the decisions (and sacrifices) that have to be made, to enter a more observant life. I think the book depicts these tensions fairly, and without disparagement to either side of the question. For that reason it is heart-rendering and touching. It is well written, definitely with British vocabulary style and phrasing. I don't know if it would translate cross cultures. Maybe it would. From my vantage point, it feels my experiences have quite a bit to bear. One last thought... Whi wouldn't completely fall in love with Chani Kaufman. She is a spitfire. For that matter, who wouldn't fall in love with Baruch! He is easy to love. And Rebecca/Rifka, she is also easy to sympathize with, as is her husband Chaim. I found their relationship quite interesting, in particular the early days that informed them. What a wonderful entrancing book. I really enjoyed it. At then end, you really feel hopeful - and like you can root for all of the characters, and be proud of each of them. Well done, Eve Harris! Looking forward to the next!

[Rebecca · Rating 4 out of 5]

“The bride stood like a pillar of salt, rigid under layers of itchy petticoats.” I loved that first line, with its biblical resonance and its hint that this is not an entirely comfortable marriage. Chani is the fifth of eight daughters in an ultra-Orthodox Jewish family in North London’s Golders Green. I’ve read another novel set in London’s Jewish community, Francesca Segal’s stunning debut, The Innocents; although Chani is not nearly as sophisticated, it taught me more about orthodox customs. I had no idea that theirs are basically arranged marriages, and that women wear wigs from their wedding day onwards, to save the beauty and seductiveness of their hair for their husbands’ view. Some beliefs can have more unfortunate implications, of course, as in the book’s most poignant incident: a rabbi whose wife is suffering a miscarriage cannot bring himself to comfort her, for fear of being made impure by her bleeding.

I’d rate this debut novel a 3.5, probably. It’s best to think of it as a fairly light-hearted, gossipy tale of interclass matchmaking in the Jane Austen vein (another recent take I’d mention in the same breath is Crazy Rich Asians by Kevin Kwan). Unfortunately, Chani is no feisty Lizzie Bennet, even though there is a wonderful head-to-head with her future mother-in-law that resembles the meeting with Lady Catherine De Bourgh, and Harris describes her as “lacking the bovine passivity typical of many of the other girls.” Better not to think about the novel as a serious critique of religion, because the tension between restriction and freedom is slightly mismanaged, and Chani and her betrothed, Baruch Levy, can be whiny, flat characters at times. We don’t learn enough about their individual backgrounds or their own thoughts, and Harris can be rather unsubtle in describing their dilemmas (e.g. “Suddenly, Chani felt burdened with her future responsibility, with the weight of being a wife and mother” and “When you have lots of siblings, you can get lost in the crowd”).

By far the most intriguing character in the novel is the Rebbetzin (“rabbi’s wife”) Zilberman. Harris gives us tantalizing glimpses into her backstory – back when she was just Rebecca, a teenager from Manchester finding her way to faith on a trip to Israel. A tragedy from her past explains her ongoing disillusionment with religion and her decision that her husband taking away their secret television is the last straw. Her son Avromi is the other stand-out character; when he falls in love with a Black British girl he meets at university, he tests the strict boundaries of his religion more than Chani or Baruch ever will.

The story begins and closes with Chani and Baruch’s wedding ceremony, and in between it loops back to detail their six-month courtship and highlight a few events from their family past, or the Rebbetzin’s. The narration is a shifting third-person limited, allowing for occasional flourishes of Austen-like free indirect speech. I ended up being surprised by the tenderness of the novel’s wedding night coverage; I thought Harris might evoke Jewish modesty by avoiding it altogether, but instead she treats it with the same bittersweet, clinical approach Ian McEwan employs in his novella On Chesil Beach.

Overall, a bit of a jumble in terms of themes and tone, but there is some definite skill on display. Harris drew inspiration for the novel during her year spent teaching at an ultra-Orthodox school in London. I’m guessing she herself is not Jewish, or at least not part of any orthodox community, but her depiction of people and customs is entirely believable (including frequent Yiddish vocabulary, which you can look up in the helpful glossary).

Chani was a somewhat unusual entry on last year’s Booker Prize longlist, but the nomination speaks to Harris’s (intermittent) talents for characterization, plotting and structure. It will be interesting to watch her development as a novelist.

[Green Giraffe · Rating 1 out of 5]

This has the sort of libelous depictions of Jewry that is tantamount to antisemitic propaganda. Yes, the author is Jewish, but she has absolutely no knowledge, no intimacy with the world she claims to depict.

How do I know? I'm an Orthodox Jew!

One or two of the laws she gets correct, but everything else? Laughably inaccurate. Harris is so devoid of vision, slavishly devoted to her biases against the religious (I had a few college professors like her) that she can't even comprehend that a religious Jew could be, say, HAPPY in their lifestyle of choice? Because there is choice, no matter how she insists otherwise. All of Judaism is about choice.

Just a few of the (many) flubs:

Chani is marrying at the age of 19, which is the age many girls just begin to date, but she has gone out with an entire roster of questionable "eligibles", including a widower of 40. Never, EVER, would a teenager be paired with a man twenty years her senior. Even a gap of five years is considered excessive.

The reason for the Sheva Brachos week? Not what she writes. There is no "re-do" if the couple doesn't consummate the marriage on the wedding night; that would be considered nobody's business. Harris has a running theme that Jews are just obsessed with sex and the laws surrounding sex . . . there is quite a lot more about being a Jew than that.

Shabbos, which begins Friday evening and continues until the following Saturday night, has no visible timeline in this travesty of a novel. One minute Chani is told to hurry up, it is almost Shabbos (Chani recites a blessing in the bathroom, a major no-no) but then a few hours later, she comes upon her mother cooking in the kitchen. There is no cooking on Shabbos. Duh.

Chani wonders if her betrothed will beat her. Huh? That's like wondering if your cat will start knitting. Is Harris implying that physical abuse is a given in the religious world? Apparently, she is.

Here's another thing that is a given in the religious Jewish world: Respecting your elders. Chani is quite fresh to her mother-in-law, and even slams a door on her foot. It could only happen in Chani's head; it would go no further (no matter how admirably feisty she is. That is an uncrossable line).

As for her writing ability, the prose is beyond atrocious, her character development non-existent. Chani's character is all over the place; one minute meek and decorous, the next dangling a pink push-up bra in the face of an elderly, scandalized neighbor.

Here's a tip: If elegant metaphors are beyond you, then do without.

Harris places her way of thinking and cloaks it in religiosity - that is not authenticity. If she wanted to write an accurate novel of the Orthodox world (it wouldn't be well-written since she can't write), she should have done more research (a lot more) and taken her own obvious prejudices off the table.

[Diane S ☔ · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 I knew absolutely nothing about the Jewish Orthodox culture before reading this book, so I could not understand many of the terms and words used. Thankfully a glossary was included at the end of the book.

Chani is a young woman, about to be married. All marriages in this culture are arranged through a matchmaker, and there are specific steps taken leading up to the event. The young woman are kept ignorant on exactly what is going to happen on their wedding night. Chain is a rather more spirited girl than many of her peers and she does not want to be married and to be tired out by constant pregnancies, liked that of her mother. Her mother has eight daughters and is overwhelmed, a feeling that pervades the life of the family. We are treated to Chani's thoughts and fears as well as those of her husband to be.


As much as I enjoyed the character of Chani it is Rivka's story that I liked even more. Her crisis of faith, the tragedies in her family and the heartbreak she felt all made her the fully realized character for me at least.

Very good story about the customs and faith of an unfamiliar culture.

[Antonomasia · Rating 3 out of 5]

Likeable and a page-turner - despite the characters and plot being quite clichéd and the writing style not enough to transcend that.

There are a few clumsy similes using biblical imagery but otherwise the writing is quite plain, bluntly spelling out far too much and making the occasional detour into what sounds like typical creative-writing course description.

Perhaps it's because I've read quite a few books set in strict religious communities and other restrictive societies, but it was formulaic to have the protagonist be an unusually intelligent and rebellious young woman... then there's the female mentor who sees beyond the rules and is also something of a wounded healer, the hypocritical authority figures, and other archetypes too, making the book a little too one-sided to be really thoughtful and interesting.

(I found it especially one-sided as in a previous job I was acquainted with some people from the Orthodox Jewish community, and found them more complex and less cartoonish - like most real people - than the characters in Chani Kaufman. The author spent far more time among them, but I get the feeling she's driven more by anger and frustration, whereas I tend to be naturally neutral and curious about people with different customs and to notice a lot of individual variation. For all that I detest the puritanical attitudes of the Orthodox society depicted here, I am essentially an old-style liberal and believe that people should be free to live in such ways if they choose, barring instances of active physical harm to others. Which again reminds me that I never finished - or posted any of - my mammoth essay on Hitchens' God is not Great. This liberalism may sound glib and lazy but I particularly struggled not to side wholly with the author on a number of points, including when Chani protests about censorship of schoolbooks. My school occasionally did this too and my mother backed up my complaint about it, and later bought me an unexpurgated edition, which still stands out as the thing for which I'm probably most proud of her.)

Despite - perhaps partly because of - the writing, the tropes, the sledgehammer opinions, and a good helping of predictability, the story moves along at a fair clip. And it's clever too, not going into what, after a few chapters, I was hoping to hear about near the end.(Chani and Baruch finding out they share similar views, and how their lives together would develop because of these). Once I'd finished the book I was actually eager to read a sequel to hear about this, regardless of all the negatives I've mentioned above.

Still, as literature - after all I read this because it was longlisted for the Booker - it isn't as good as some other literary novels on similar communities e.g. Whit by Iain Banks, Naomi Alderman's Disobedience, or The Friday Gospels by Jenn Ashworth. (Whit and Disobedience do feature somewhat similar heroines but are, overall, better written.) Though I'm at a bit of a disadvantage in reviewing this only ever having seen the first fifteen minutes of Fiddler on the Roof - the most famous work about Jewish marriage customs - there must be references in Chani Kaufman

It must say something in favour of this novel that I found it such a compelling read regardless of so many quibbles with it.

[Ben Dutton · Rating 4 out of 5]

It is a great success to have your debut novel long-listed for The Man Booker Prize. It means reviews from critics who would probably have overlooked you. It means sales you’d probably otherwise not have gotten. It also means your novel is looked at far more critically than it would have been had it not been long-listed. The last few weeks have seen a number of reviews of Eve Harris’ debut novel, The Marrying of Chani Kaufman, published through small Scottish label, Sandstone Press, and the reviews have almost all said how unlikely it is for the novel to progress to the shortlist. I mention these points as, for however fine a novel The Marrying of Chani Kaufman is (and it is a perfectly fine novel), it cannot be helped but to think it is a novel punching above its weight, that the attention only serves to highlight the novels flaws, and puts undue pressure on Harris for her next novel.

Chani Kaufman is a girl about to marry a boy she barely knows. It is a great beginning, and Harris’s prose in these early chapters is dextrous and powerful enough to bring us easily into this young girl’s life at a moment of great change. I certainly felt for her, caught between the duties of religion, family and social standing. She is a wonderfully drawn creation, sparky and energetic, willing to stand her ground even when others tell her not to. She is to marry Baruch, a boy she barely knows – but who has chosen her – and he too is well drawn, a mix of conflicts, much like Chani (see, they really are perfect for each other, the novel screams). Then there is the rabbi’s wife, Rivka, whose own life is a mix of contradictions, and who holds a terrible secret. These three lives will all be altered in some way by the marrying of Chani Kaufman

Eve Harris is a skilled novelist. She juggles the various strands of her novel with dexterity – it is a novel that essentially covers a few days but skips back and forth through the decades to reveal motivations, secrets and lies, and how compatible Chani and Baruch really are (despite not knowing each other). She knows the ultra-Orthodox Jewish world well, and weaves in their religious traditions and words without overwhelming the reader (there is a glossary at the back, just in case you mix your blintzes with your rogellach). It is not an easy task to bring to life a world with which many readers will be unfamiliar, and Harris does it well.

Just occasionally I found that her prose slipped into cliché. For example, Baruch says ““I knew my mum was the meddlesome type but this really takes the biscuit!”” It’s a perfectly valid speech, but the clichéd manner in which Baruch speaks either reveals laziness from the author or that Baruch is actually quite dull. It happens a little too frequently for me to think it is laziness from Harris, but equally it goes unnoticed by the characters that if it were to be a flaw in Baruch’s personality, it has gone unnoticed.

Ultimately, I found that Harris’s novel resembled a rom-com. With its misunderstandings, comic interludes, and wedding night jitters, one can easily see the film playing behind the novel. It would make a fine film too, I’m sure. It has all the right ingredients. As a novel, it is very enjoyable read, with engaging, well-drawn characters. It promises good things for Eve Harris, who I’m certain has great novels to come.

[Lynn · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a fascinating novel which gives a peek inside the insular world of the ultra-orthodox world of the Charedi community.

19 year old Chani Kaufman is marrying Baruch Levy, a young man she has only met 4 times. Both are inexperienced and naive about interpersonal and sexual relationships and have fears and questions about what it means to be married that no one will address. Meanwhile, the Rabbi’s wife, Rivka, whose responsibility it is to guide Chani through her transition into married life, is going through a marital and religious crisis of her own. Having recently experienced a miscarriage, she now questions her decision to marry her husband Chaim and join the Charedi community as he becomes increasingly devout. Her eldest son, Avromi is also going through a crisis of his own, as he becomes involved with a fellow university student who is black and not Jewish.

Although I really enjoyed this book, I had some issues with it. There is an obsession with the wedding night throughout the book. I find it hard to believe that no one will explain to Chani and Baruch what to expect, both good and bad. The climactic scene, as it were, was a bit over the top, as was Chani’s reaction, although I can’t imagine marrying and having sex with someone you barely know.

The main characters are fairly well developed, but most of the other characters are caricatures: the evil MIL, the conniving matchmaker, the harried, burned out mother, the clueless husband, etc. Although the story is told from the POVs of the main characters, there are a lot of “tell, not show” aspects to their stories, which keeps you a bit removed from them.

Although I am Jewish, I am a Reform Jew and obviously was not raised in the Charedi community, so I don’t know how much of the portrayal of this insular community is accurate. Some other reviews have excoriated this book for its portrayal of the Charedi community. I accept the portrayal with a grain of salt.

Although the book has some faults, I really enjoyed reading it. I was transported into a world that I have never experienced first hand, and isn’t that the point of reading?

[Marilyn · Rating 5 out of 5]

I really enjoyed reading this book. If you want to learn about women's lives in an Orthodox Jewish community (this one is in England), this novel is excellent. The writer knows and writes about her characters extremely well. The world is small and claustrophobic, but it there are women (and men) who question, who step outside bounds. But there are consequences.

There are universal themes, including friendships across different lifestyles, searching for answers in religion/spirituality, desires vs. "rules," and general issues in human communities. All written about with great insight, empathy and knowledge of the writer's subjects.

I love reading about different cultures and spiritualities, especially through fiction - where, when the author is as good as Eve Harris, the reader truly grasps much of the basis for how a culture/religion can shape its members' personalities, fears, desires, and the whole spectrum of how their lives are formed and lived.

[Leselissi · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ach ist das schön!
Solch liebenswerte Menschen, denen man alles Glück der Erde wünscht, und nebenher lernt man noch viel über die jüdische Kultur.
Außerdem toll gelesen von Anna Schudt.

[Literarischunterwegs · Rating 5 out of 5]

Eve Harris beschreibt in ihrem sehr ehrlich und authentisch wirkenden Roman "Die Hochzeit der Chani Kaufmann" eine Welt, die mir als Katholikin nicht gänzlich bekannt und auch in vielem nicht nachvollziehbar ist. Obwohl ich vieles über das Judentum weiß, hat mir dieses Buch sehr viele Eindrücke, Hintergründe und Aspekte aufgezeigt, die mich über die Bedeutsamkeit des Glaubens und der persönlichen Treue dazu ganz im Allgemeinen haben nachdenken lassen.
In mir ergaben sich Fragen wie:
- Was bedeutet es zu glauben?
- Wie zeigt sich das Gläubig - Sein?
- Wie kann ich als Mensch meinem Glauben Ausdruck verleihen?
- Was ist laut der Schriften (wie Bibel, Thora, Koran) "gewollt" und was ist vielleicht Auslegungssache bzw. menschliche Willkür?
- In wie weit darf ich in meinem Glauben als authentisches Wesen weiterbestehen?
- Ist es richtig, dass mir mein Glaube bestimmte Dinge verbietet? Ich spreche hier von alltäglichen Dingen und nicht von Dingen, die in die Bereiche anderer Individuen eingreifen oder deren Unversehrtheit beeinträchtigen würden.
- Ist es richtig heranwachsende Menschen im Unklaren lassen oder sollte man ihnen Angst und Unsicherheit nicht eher nehmen?
- Wie starr darf/ soll ein Glaube in seiner alltäglichen Ausprägung sein?
- Wie viel Glaube tut den Menschen gut?
- Kann man sich überhaupt als vollkommen authentisches Wesen innerhalb eines festen Glaubens entwickeln oder verhindert der Glaube eher Findungsbereiche?

Die Autorin hat mit ihrem sehr eindrucksvollen, sehr interessant und kurzweilig geschriebenen Buch durch die Geschichten ihrer Charakteren Einblicke in Judentum gewährt, die es nicht jüdischen Menschen erlaubt über den eigenen Tellerrand zu schauen und sich so zumindest ein kleines Bild in diese Richtung zu machen. Die doch sehr schwierige Thematik hat sie dabei sensibel, sanft und an einigen Stellen sogar mit einem sichtbaren Augenzwinkern dargestellt. Trotz des sehr ernsten Hintergrundes, menschelt es auch in sehr gläubigen Menschen.
Auch wenn das Buch das Judentum thematisiert, so kann man die Zweifel, Ängste, die innere Zerrissenheit, die Unsicherheiten und Irrwege durchaus auf alle Religionen übertragen, da hinter jeder Religion ein Mensch steht, der sich gedanklich und emotional damit auseinandersetzt.

Ein wirklich gutes Buch, das ich sehr empfehlen kann.

[Deborah Feldman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Like a surgeon cutting into human flesh for the first time, Eve Harris audaciously dissects a community defined by inscrutable social mores; her profound reverence for her characters in no way hinders her intrepid plunge into the murky viscera of this complex world. Readers will be mesmerized by Harris's unforgettable voice; this powerful debut novel is a startling and effervescent contribution to a canon much in need of enrichment.

[cameron · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a book that reminds me of past Booker Prize winners when you could be assured their long and short
lists were always remarkable reads. Harris gives us insight into the Jewish Orthodox world and it is riveting. Every character comes alive on the page and is believable in every way. Happiness, pain, struggle and silence allow this faith based group to exist. Faith and religious law try to restrict and guide every aspect of being human. This is a book for all people. Wonderful

[Sternenstaubsucherin · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ich finde es immer wieder faszinierend, wie Menschen mit so strengen religiösen Regeln trotzdem glücklich sein können/werden.
Oder eben auch nicht.
Das Buch hat mir wirklich sehr gut gefallen.
Hier würde ich mir sogar eine Fortsetzung wünschen, denn ich würde gern wissen, wie es der Rebbetzin ergeht und wie Baruch und Chani so ihr Leben meistern.

[Joy D · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Marrying of Chani Kaufman provides a glimpse into the closeknit community of ultra-Orthodox (Cheredi) Judaism in contemporary London. In the opening scene, Chani Kaufman is a nineteen-year-old bride, awaiting the arrival of her groom. The storyline unfolds through multiple perspectives and timelines, moving between Chani's wedding day and the events leading up to it. This non-linear structure allows the author to relate the different characters' journeys while gradually revealing their interconnected lives. The novel investigates the tensions between religious obligations and personal desires.

Harris specifically focuses on women's experiences. In addition to Chani, we also learn about Rivka Zilberman (the rabbi’s wife), whose life was transformed when she left the secular world behind to adopt the Orthodox religious life after meeting her future husband in Jerusalem. She has had more than her share of sorrows. Meanwhile, other characters struggle with maintaining their faith in the face of modern temptations.

The characters are wonderfully rendered. Chani is portrayed as an intelligent, strong, and quietly rebellious young woman, who tries her best to meet family and community expectations while maintaining her sense of self. Chani’s fiancé, Baruch, is pressured by his parents to marry within his social circle, but he resists their control. Baruch’s mother schemes to keep her son from marrying Chani. It is easy to root for these two.

The novel alternates between humor and the emotional journey of its characters. As a non-Jewish reader, I became easily engrossed in the details of this closed world. The novel portrays the community's warmth alongside what would appear to be a very restrictive life (especially to an outsider like me). The author transcends these limitations by crafting a universally relatable story about love, family, and personal identity. I enjoyed it immensely.

[Cynnamon · Rating 4 out of 5]

English version below

***************

Dieses Buch rief ser widerstreitende Gefühle in mir hervor.

Zum Einen fand ich die Beschreibung des Lebensstils in einer jüdisch-orthodoxen Gemeinde sehr interessant, zum anderen haben mich die Verhältnisse wirklich wütend gemacht, zudem die Frauen am stärksten unter den Einschränkungen und in der heutigen Zeit nicht mehr vermittelbaren Regeln zu leiden haben.

Anderseits war es wirklich witzig zu lesen, wie Chanis Schwiegermutter mit allen Mitteln versucht, die Hochzeit zu hintertreiben.

Sehr gut gefallen hat mir, wie die Frau des Rabbiners es schafft sich nach jahzehntelanger Unterdrückung im System (auch wenn sie sich freiwillig hineinbegeben hat) wieder auf den Weg in ein selbstbestimmtes Leben zu machen.

Versöhnlich im Ausklang fand ich auch die Erkenntnis, das Chani ihren Lebensstil mit wachem Geist hinterfragt und nicht bereit ist alles hinzunehmen.

Alles in allem wirklich lesenwert und für jemanden wie mich ein interessanter Einblick in eine mir vollkommen fremde Lebenswelt.

---------------


This book evoked conflicting feelings in me.

On the one hand, I found the description of the lifestyle in a Jewish-Orthodox community very interesting, on the other hand, the conditions really made me angry, particularly as the women suffer the most from the restrictions and rules that can no longer be meaninful today.

On the other hand, it was really funny to read how Chani's mother-in-law tried everything to prevent the wedding.

I really liked how the Rabbi's wife manages after decades of suppression in the system (even if she went into it voluntarily) to make her way back to a self-determined life.

Forgiving at the end I also found the realization that Chani questions her lifestyle with an alert mind and is not ready to accept everything.

All in all really worth reading and for someone like me an interesting insight into a world that was completely outlandish to me.

[Readersaurus · Rating 2 out of 5]

So, I was looking forward to reading this, as I live in an area with very few Jews and, for reasons I won't get into, we haven't been making the trip to our synagogue lately. A Jewish-themed contemporary near-winner of a prestigious literary prize: I want to read it!

I am sorry to report that, 4 chapters in, this is a pretty cliche-ridden story. I can't write anything better than the many other reviewers on goodreads who have expressed disappointment in this one. I had hoped for a smart, feeling, story with true-to-life (or, at least, believable) characters. These characters hate themselves and the narrator hates them, too. So far, everyone is fat, disheveled, distracted during prayer, and unhappy with their lives. Orthodoxy is not for me, but there are many who live within it fully and happily. Chani's community must have people glad to dwell within it, or it would implode.

I'll read a few more chapters, but so far it is leaving me feeling very icky.

So, I finished it. And fairly quickly, too. So it's not unreadable.
BUT
How can it be that all the food is bland and tasteless, everyone's hair is greasy, everything smells of stale sweat? Even the goyish motel room in this book is filthy. The people are willfully ignorant and self-hating. On top of all that, the editing is terrible. Repetitious phrases, spelling errors, names spelled different ways each time the same character appears -- the best part of this book is the Yiddish glossary in the back.

I just don't know what to say. There are so many stereotypes in here. Harris may not have intended it, but she's written a tangibly negative book.

[Jersy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Different than I expected, but in a good way. While this can be humorous, the characters all have depth and it handles all of their struggles and insecurities in an interesting and mostly sympathic way. I also loved how this book went back and forth in time and between characters.

[Ceri Chaudhry · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Marrying of Chani Kaufman by Eve Harris

If you are looking for a book to really immerse yourself in, this lovely book by Eve Harris would be a great choice. The novel focuses on a group of characters from an orthodox Jewish community in north London. This, in itself, makes for a fascinating read. I learnt so much that I didn’t know and it was really enlightening to find out more about the daily life of orthodox Jewish families. I became completely engrossed in reading about this way of life, which previously was unknown to me, as to many.
The marriage in question is that of Chani Kaufman, a young orthodox Jewish woman, and Baruch Levy, who is a total stranger to her. These are two very engaging characters whose individual attitudes to the situation are what make this book so compelling. Both Chani and Baruch have previously rejected potential future spouses that they have been introduced to and Chani has even been herself rejected by some. Because of Chani’s strict orthodox upbringing she has had no physical contact with a man and much of marriage remains a total mystery to her, particularly sex, something that she is naturally curious about and eager to learn about. One of the characters who helps Chani along this journey is the Rabbi’s wife, Rivka. She is another really likeable character and, as the story progresses, we discover that she too has her own issues to address. What is really interesting is that Rivka has not always followed such a traditional orthodox lifestyle and how she has come to do so and why she now struggles with some aspects of her lifestyle.
One of the things that make the book such a page-turner is that many of the characters have secrets or backgrounds that we have yet to uncover. There are some really sad events in the book that help us to have a greater understanding of the characters. To prevent the book being too sad though, there are some really funny moments, notably with Baruch’s mother, who is in deep opposition to the forthcoming nuptials. This character really adds some humour to the novel and Chani’s interactions with her provide real amusement.
What I found such an eye opener about the book was not only the insight into orthodox customs and routines but also the way it provided understanding of the character’s motivation to follow this path. It is a really lovely book, at times very sad and at times very entertaining but always totally engrossing. At the end of the books is a Hebrew glossary - at times a great help, meaning that the Hebrew words used in the novel never become a frustration.
Definitely one for your “To read” list!

[Natascha · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ich bin zwiegespalten was dieses Buch angeht. Die Autorin schafft interessante Charaktere und erzählte fesselnde Geschichten, jedoch ist mir die Sicht auf das Judentum und das Ausleben des Glaubens zu einseitig und vor allem zu negativ dargestellt. Ich kenne mich mit dieser Glaubensrichtung nicht besonders gut aus, aber keine der vier Erzählstimmen ist vollkommen im Reinen damit, was grundsätzlich auch okay ist, doch finde ich, dass wenn der Glaube eine große Rolle in einer Geschichte spielt auch alle Seiten davon beleuchtet werden müssen und man wenigstens ansatzweise auch Personen zeigen sollte, die sich damit wohl fühlen und die Regeln nicht nur als Last ansehen. Denn egal was man von welchem Glauben auch immer halten mag, es gibt viele Menschen die daraus ihre Kraft ziehen und ich finde es deswegen nicht besonders geschickt ihn nur als etwas negatives anzusehen und darzustellen, selbst wenn das vielleicht die eigene Meinung widerspiegelt.
Trotzdem hat mich das Buch gut unterhalten und ich mochte die verschiedenen Handlungsstränge, ihre Verbindungen zueinander und die Entwicklungen der Charaktere sehr.
Es ist also vielleicht nicht das beste Buch um einen objektiven Eindruck zum Thema Judentum zu bekommen, doch erfüllt es seine Aufgabe als Unterhaltungsliteratur für meinen Geschmack auf jeden Fall.

[Hanna · Rating 4 out of 5]

Subject: Orthodox (Haredi) Judaism
Setting London and Israel
Plot: A young couple is getting married, due to social pressure in their environment. They don't really know each other. Everyone involved in the wedding has their own story, which is also told.
Message: Orthodox Judaism is great in many ways, but there are some very petty people around, and the culture does not allow for a lot of individuality and can be stifling.
My Comments: The plot is really quite limited, it's the background stories that are interesting. The main reason to read the book is an insight into the Haredi communities in London and Israel. On this score, the author does a good job. I can tell that she doesn't come from that background, but she knows a lot about it, and there are no obvious factual faults that stood out to me(I have personal experience of this, albeit limited.)
Who should read it: People with an interest in religion, particularly Judaism (Orthodox). Women (this is told from the female angle and the colour of the cover gives away what the intended audience is).

The book is not cheesy or cliche-ish, although Orthodox Jews might not feel that it depicts a typical experience...

[☕Laura · Rating 4 out of 5]

Chani Kaufman and Baruch Levy are young observant Jews who are to be married after only a few meetings, as dictated by religion and tradition. Also according to religion and tradition they have never touched, never even held hands. This book does a lovely job of depicting the anxieties and challenges associated with such an arrangement while respecting its validity and the joy which can come of it. The characters in this book are multi-dimensional, each struggling in his or her own way to define themselves within the construct of the religious community. I loved this view into a community different from my own and learned much. [This review refers to a finished copy of this book for free through the Goodreads First Reads program.]

[Rachel · Rating 2 out of 5]

I'm surprised this was long-listed for the Man Booker Prize. It was an easy, enjoyable read but many of the characters were rather two-dimensional. I Am Forbidden by Anouk Markovits and Hush by Eishes Chayil (also about the ultra-Orthodox Jewish community) were more enlightening, inspiring, and thought-provoking. And, I think The Innocents by Francesca Segal (also about the London Jewish community) was more clever and creative.