As luck would have it, this book arrived on the day my small daughter announced that, for reasons best known to the rabbi of her elementary school, an ice-lolly was going to be awarded for every three mishnayot the children could learn to recite by heart. The assigned chapter was chapter one of Pirkei Avot, and the beautiful irony that, to receive the first ice-lolly, they had to recite by rote “Do not be like a servant who serves his master in order to receive a prize” was unfortunately lost on the children, as there was no added incentive for understanding the words.
This happy coincidence gave me my first opportunity to properly sit and learn with my daughter. The pictures in The Illustrated Pirkei Avot visually embodied the idea – clearly not emphasized at her school – that a text bears different interpretations and invites personal responses. For instance when we reached the advice “Do not engage in excessive chatter with your wife” (ice-lolly nr 2) the artist had added a note: “Clearly this passage is shocking! In our society we now consider men and women to be equally valuable.” This was reassuring to my daughter, validating her discomfort without trying to falsely resolve it. There weren't too many of these notes, but they were well placed, integrated with parentheses into the text, casting the artist as a study partner.
On every page, the Mishna text is made relevant, sometimes by use of creative translation. The one that most struck me was 2:1: “Which is the right path for a person to choose for themselves? Whatever brings harmony to the one who does it and brings harmony to all people.” The illustration shows a ring of people sitting cross-legged and singing with guitar and tambourine, eyes beatifically closed, clearly spreading love and harmony far and wide with the power of song. Was this the original vision of Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi? Unlikely, as the word he chose, “tiferet,” would to him I guess have meant something more like “one which brings credit to the one who does it and credit to humanity.” “Tiferet” may have picked up the connotation of “harmony” through the kabbalistic doctrine of the Sefirot – making Deutsch’s translation, not “pshat,” but acceptable “drash,” ie an anachronistic understanding of a word which has gathered new meaning over time, intentionally bringing a new layer of meaning to the text.
I enjoyed the religious vision that comes across in every page – relaxed, intellectually engaged, emotionally open, humorous, and drawing liberally on non-Jewish practices and symbols such as yoga and the ubiquitous peace symbol (which, as a Brit, made me feel that Cold War Nuclear Disarmament is never far from the top of the to-do list).
One of my favourite elements was the formulae traditionally recited at the beginning and end of every chapter, reillustrated every time to form a separate thread running through the book and holding it together. Deutsch’s lovely translation of Isaiah: “God wished… that the Torah be expansive and beautiful” neatly sums up the ethos of the book.
This is now my go-to bar/bat mitzva present, but young children and adults will enjoy it just as much.