A striking look at the Jewish rite-and at American Jews in all their diversity
Since its emergence here a century ago, the bar or bat mitzvah has become a distinctively American rite of passage, so much so that, in certain suburbs today, gentile families throw parties for their thirteen-year-olds, lest they feel left out. How did this come about? To answer that question, Mark Oppenheimer set out across America to attend the most distinctive b'nai mitzvah he could find, and Thirteen and a Day is the story of what he found- an altogether fresh look at American Jews today.
Beginning with the image of a party of gaudy excess, Oppenheimer then goes farther afield in the great tradition of literary journalists from Joseph Mitchell to Ian Frazier and Susan Orlean. The two dozen Jews of Fayetteville, Arkansas, he finds, open their synagogue to eccentrics from all over the Ozarks. Those of Lake Charles, Louisiana, pass the hat to cover the expenses of their potluck dinner. And in Anchorage, Alaska, a Hasidic boy's bar mitzvah in a snowed-in hotel becomes a striking image of how far the Jewish diaspora has spread. In these people's company, privy to their soul-searching about their religious heritage, Oppenheimer finds that the day is full of wonder and significance.
Part travelogue, part spiritual voyage, Thirteen and a Day is a lyrical, entertaining, even revelatory look at American Jews and one of the most original books of literary journalism to appear in some years.
Mark Oppenheimer is a freelance writer. He is a staff writer for the Christian Century and has written for many publications, including Harper’s, the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal, the Boston Globe, the Yale Review, the Hartford Courant, Playboy, and Slate. He has taught at Wesleyan and Stanford universities.
First, I really enjoyed reading this exploration of the bar and bat mitzvah ceremony as a lens to dive into American Judaism. The author certainly can write, and it was an engaging and informative reading experience.
Second, I wish the author could have set aside his obvious bias against and disdain for Reform Judaism. It became entirely distracting, more so than the many typesetting errors in the first third of the book. No other denomination had a literal scorecard of its adherents’ progeny - who left the fold, whose children and grandchildren left? A less-than critical eye was turned toward the Chabad flavor of orthodoxy and its lack of equality amongst genders - yes, women may have roles, as pointed out, but do they get to chose what those roles will be? - as well as its rejection of all secular education. The bar mitzvah boy could recite pages of Yiddish, yes, but he didn’t know the name of the month of June.
It’s no coincidence that the two unfavorable portrayals in the collection were both centered around Reform congregations, one shown as soulless and mass-produced, and the other as intellectually barren.
And yet, in the addition to the recent reprinting (under a new title, The Bar Mitzvah Crasher, Oppenheimer shares his three rules for a meaningful bar or bat mitzvah, and one is that there should be some sort of ceremony that is important to and appropriate for the child to express who they now are and will be as a Jewish adult; *one* example involves chanting Torah. Ironically, this is a very Reform mindset. How can this tradition (born in modernity) be made meaningful? What is its essence? What can that look like today?
Lastly, what is more important? That the founding fathers - yes, all men - of Reform Judaism rejected the bar mitzvah along with most of the ritual inherent to Judaism more than 100 years ago, or that the movement, now including its women, has embraced the ceremony along with more rigorous and egalitarian training for more than 50? Which is more relevant to this book’s audience? The author, who grew up about as Jewish as I did, insists that it’s the former.
I love the podcast Unorthodox and wanted to read Mark’s book for a while. A lot more makes sense about his views and knowledge now that I know more about his upbringing and exposure to Jewish culture and customs. Overall I enjoyed this book and was really moved by certain parts (I cry at a bat mitzvah when the kids read Torah and do a speech, so why not while reading it?) and the sense of “it’s always been done; so let’s keep doing it” resonates with me. Still, Mark’s lens is not my lens. He stereotypes and lumps people together at times or makes assumptions (which he then sometimes dispels) that make me do a little eyeroll. People are people! Bit specimen.
A very interesting look at how families across the country celebrate this rite of passage.
Makes me glad to be one of the handful of Oklahoma Jews (don't often hear that) -- my daughter is less likely to be exposed to quite the level of spectacle that is on display here ... and then to want it for her own celebration.
The flip side is nicely shown, too: that it's about more than the ballroom and the DJ. I'll have to reread this (and have her do so, as well) in about six years!
I'm not sure why I waited four years to take this one off the shelf and read it - it's great! A very readable, folksy-yet-insightful examination of the history and current American practice of b'nai mitzvah.
It spent just as much time talking about Judaism in general as it did talking about b'nai mitzvah in particular. For the most part, it was interesting, but at times it droned on too long.
Can't say that I agree with Oppenheimer in all aspects but it was a fun and entertaining peek into Jewish life in America. Just the right thing before attending my first Bar Mitzvah.