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Mit 23 verlässt Deborah Feldman die ultraorthodoxe chassidische Gemeinde der Satmarer Juden in Williamsburg, New York, und damit das Leben, das sie in »Unorthodox« so packend erzählt hat. Die Möglichkeit zurückzukehren hat sie nicht. Sie folgt ihrem großen Traum, gemeinsam mit ihrem Sohn in Freiheit zu leben. Sie verlässt New York und folgt den europäischen Spuren ihrer geliebten Großmutter, die den Holocaust überlebt hat und die die einzige Person war, bei der sich die junge Frau angenommen fühlte. Schließlich gelingt es Deborah Feldman, Wurzeln zu schlagen, ausgerechnet in Berlin, dem Ort, der durch die Satmarer mit so vielen Ängsten und Vorurteilen verbunden war. Bildstark, wortgewaltig erzählt Deborah Feldman die beeindruckende Geschichte einer Selbstfindung und Versöhnung mit der Vergangenheit.
704 pages, Paperback
First published March 25, 2014
550 people are currently reading
6153 people want to read
About the author
Deborah Feldman
8 books878 followersDeborah Feldman was born and raised in the Hasidic community of Satmar in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Her marriage was arranged at the age of 17, and her son was born two years later.
At the age of 25 she published the New York Times Bestselling memoir, UNORTHODOX: The Scandalous Rejection of My Hasidic Roots (Simon and Schuster, 2012)
She currently lives with her son in Berlin, Germany.
At the age of 25 she published the New York Times Bestselling memoir, UNORTHODOX: The Scandalous Rejection of My Hasidic Roots (Simon and Schuster, 2012)
She currently lives with her son in Berlin, Germany.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 400 reviews
March 24, 2014
Full admission: although I marked this book as READ, I did not finish it. I just skipped through the fun parts, of Feldman with her various love interests. The book is actually well written, much more than the first book, and Feldman finally caught on to the modern memoir’s confessional style, so she presents herself as introspective, honest and likable. But for all that, the book has a big problem: it lacks a central story. It is just a collage of experiences Feldman had in the year following the sale of her book, as she travelled the world and went to a hypnotist and dated and shopped, etc. You get it; a person's daily going ons. Some parts are interesting, the writing is good, but the lack of a central plot makes it unreadable. Sometimes when I tried to read it I felt the author was pandering to the Jewish world’s interest in the story of someone who left orthodoxy and found their Jewish roots, in a way that felt manipulative.
March 26, 2014
When I read Deborah Feldman's first memoir Unorthodox I thought it was written pretty well, until about half to two-thirds of the way in. Then it kind of jumped up to hyperspeed, got vague and just kind of ended. To me it felt like she'd probably worked on that main material really well and then had to end it, to complete the book. I later learned from mutual acquaintances that something like that had in fact happened; Feldman had workshopped the first part of the book in college. Be that as it may, a hit requires a sophomore effort, and Exodus is hers. She chose the genre of memoir literature once again which is unfortunate, because the stories we accumulate in our first quarter century generally provide more material then the ones we gather over the next two years. And it shows. In Exodus I could only surmise that some kind of looming contract driven deadline was forcing her to complete a manuscript.
Exodus is the story of what Deborah Feldman has been up to since Unorthodox was released. So what has she been up to? She moved to New England. She visited a hokey shaman. She complains that she is forever tied to her ex husband, who may well complain that he is forever tied to his ex wife, if he were to write his memoir. She made a pilgrimage to Hungary where she admired the trees, the paprika, and how local yokels treated her like a celebrity from America. She failed to feel like she fit into the Southern family of a college friend. She had sex with Germans. She reflected about Jewish identity and pined for her grandmother, whom she now sees as less of a shaved Hasidic bubby, and more of an elegant European survivor with a secular legal name who isn't really Hasidic. (This is not necessarily an exaggeration - many contemporary scions of Hasidic families were not Hasidic or very Hasidic before WWII; this process of the Hasidization of many survivors who flocked to rebbes and rebuilt Hasidic communities, of Hungarian speakers who produced Yiddish speaking grandchildren, should be told.)
Some random observations. Exodus seems to assume prior knowledge of Unorthodox. While she does recap a little bit, she refers to details which the reader is apparently expected to understand, and I'm not sure this should have been assumed. She really seems to love describing trees. This is not a bad thing. I honestly think she should write about what she loves, and in the hands of a great writer - well anything is delicious to read about. Think about Pat Conroy who can write about crabs (the eating kind) for three pages. I don't care for travel books generally (perhaps why I wasn't digging this so much) but Myla Goldberg wrote a little travel book about Prague - and she made me care! She made me love it! So, there's that. Some inappropriate talk about gypsies. Nothing horrific, but let's just say I think she should know better than to just repeat whatever random Hungarians tell her about gypsies.
Feldman definitely tries to open up more. She no longer has anyone to blame, so the book doesn't fall into that trap. Although I respect her right to privacy, considering that she is a single mother on a daily basis, one would have liked to know a little about what her life is like with her son, which surely is a part of her story since Unorthodox. She headed her chapters with random but suggestive Hebrew terms, alluding I guess to her interest in her Jewish heritage. She muses about the meaning of Jewishness and compares herself to Barbra Streisand. There were occasional beautiful, easy turns of phrase that I definitely enjoyed. And that is Exodus, at least the Exodus which I read.
Exodus is the story of what Deborah Feldman has been up to since Unorthodox was released. So what has she been up to? She moved to New England. She visited a hokey shaman. She complains that she is forever tied to her ex husband, who may well complain that he is forever tied to his ex wife, if he were to write his memoir. She made a pilgrimage to Hungary where she admired the trees, the paprika, and how local yokels treated her like a celebrity from America. She failed to feel like she fit into the Southern family of a college friend. She had sex with Germans. She reflected about Jewish identity and pined for her grandmother, whom she now sees as less of a shaved Hasidic bubby, and more of an elegant European survivor with a secular legal name who isn't really Hasidic. (This is not necessarily an exaggeration - many contemporary scions of Hasidic families were not Hasidic or very Hasidic before WWII; this process of the Hasidization of many survivors who flocked to rebbes and rebuilt Hasidic communities, of Hungarian speakers who produced Yiddish speaking grandchildren, should be told.)
Some random observations. Exodus seems to assume prior knowledge of Unorthodox. While she does recap a little bit, she refers to details which the reader is apparently expected to understand, and I'm not sure this should have been assumed. She really seems to love describing trees. This is not a bad thing. I honestly think she should write about what she loves, and in the hands of a great writer - well anything is delicious to read about. Think about Pat Conroy who can write about crabs (the eating kind) for three pages. I don't care for travel books generally (perhaps why I wasn't digging this so much) but Myla Goldberg wrote a little travel book about Prague - and she made me care! She made me love it! So, there's that. Some inappropriate talk about gypsies. Nothing horrific, but let's just say I think she should know better than to just repeat whatever random Hungarians tell her about gypsies.
Feldman definitely tries to open up more. She no longer has anyone to blame, so the book doesn't fall into that trap. Although I respect her right to privacy, considering that she is a single mother on a daily basis, one would have liked to know a little about what her life is like with her son, which surely is a part of her story since Unorthodox. She headed her chapters with random but suggestive Hebrew terms, alluding I guess to her interest in her Jewish heritage. She muses about the meaning of Jewishness and compares herself to Barbra Streisand. There were occasional beautiful, easy turns of phrase that I definitely enjoyed. And that is Exodus, at least the Exodus which I read.
April 3, 2014
I was really excited to find out why happened to Deborah Feldman after she left the Satmar community. I had expected this book to pick up where the last one left off, to learn about the difficult (or perhaps not?) transition into secular life, about the challenges she faced. Instead, this book mostly details the trip to Europe she took to learn about her grandmother's roots. While that was interesting, the themes got a bit repetitive. "Oh, there aren't any Jews here? There's still anti-semitism even though secular/Christian people tell me there isn't?" Well...yeah. It's true, but it came up all over the place and got really tedious.
The other thing is that this book isn't a cohesive narrative. It felt to me like each chapter was a separate essay that she then compiled to make this book. That's fine, but I'm confused a little about the timeline. When did these things happen? Was there just one trip to Europe that felt (to me) like four or five? It's hard to say.
Also: I understand that it's a free world and so on, but the author seems to have had a lot of sexual/romantic encounters since leaving the Satmars. Now, this could seem like more in a short time because, again, no idea what the timeline was, but she mentioned so many men throughout the book. The weirdest bit was when . It was bizarre and I'm not sure what I'm supposed to take away from this, except that she is very confused and hasn't quite come to terms with herself and her history.
It was another interesting look into her life, but I still wish I had more information about her personal struggles leaving the Satmars. A few things are mentioned offhand (like the death threats and her insomnia), but I want to know what obstacles she fought to get to where she is now. Obviously, leaving was a big one, but then what happened? I feel like there's a big gap in the timing and I'm missing something. I guess this is always going to happen and Feldman is, of course, free to leave parts of her life private, but it's still frustrating!
Not a bad read, but again, not quite what I expected, and a little too disjointed for more than a 3 star rating.
The other thing is that this book isn't a cohesive narrative. It felt to me like each chapter was a separate essay that she then compiled to make this book. That's fine, but I'm confused a little about the timeline. When did these things happen? Was there just one trip to Europe that felt (to me) like four or five? It's hard to say.
Also: I understand that it's a free world and so on, but the author seems to have had a lot of sexual/romantic encounters since leaving the Satmars. Now, this could seem like more in a short time because, again, no idea what the timeline was, but she mentioned so many men throughout the book. The weirdest bit was when . It was bizarre and I'm not sure what I'm supposed to take away from this, except that she is very confused and hasn't quite come to terms with herself and her history.
It was another interesting look into her life, but I still wish I had more information about her personal struggles leaving the Satmars. A few things are mentioned offhand (like the death threats and her insomnia), but I want to know what obstacles she fought to get to where she is now. Obviously, leaving was a big one, but then what happened? I feel like there's a big gap in the timing and I'm missing something. I guess this is always going to happen and Feldman is, of course, free to leave parts of her life private, but it's still frustrating!
Not a bad read, but again, not quite what I expected, and a little too disjointed for more than a 3 star rating.
August 13, 2014
Because I was so intrigued by Unorthodox, of course I had to read the follow-up. I am pretty fascinated by people who decide to leave restrictive environments and make their way in the great big world. How do they find the courage to leave? How to they make it on their own? How do they handle the identity crisis that is bound to result from their decisions?
From the other Goodreads reviews, it sounds like many readers were disappointed with this memoir. In comparison to Unorthodox, Exodus can feel disjointed and directionless. After leaving her marriage and her conservative Hasidic community, Feldman feels lost and rootless. So she wanders. She goes to San Francisco. She goes to Lake Tahoe, Salt Lake City. New Orleans. She criss-crosses the Atlantic several times, visiting France, Spain, and Germany. Sometimes she looks for other Jews, other times she scrabbles to find some remnant of her family's history or names carved into cobblestones. Sometimes she dives into a romance with a cute German guy whose grandmother kissed the hand of Hitler.
So I guess I get what many readers didn't like about this book, but I see what Feldman is trying to do, too. Her whole mission to find herself feels deeper and more meaningful to me than it does in some other memoirs with similar trajectories. She's still young, and she has been through so much in her life. Her family's history is very complicated. She wants to leave her insular religious community, but she can't reject--nor does she want to reject--her Jewishness. She's still searching. Maybe she'll always be searching.
If Feldman writes a third memoir, I would read it!
From the other Goodreads reviews, it sounds like many readers were disappointed with this memoir. In comparison to Unorthodox, Exodus can feel disjointed and directionless. After leaving her marriage and her conservative Hasidic community, Feldman feels lost and rootless. So she wanders. She goes to San Francisco. She goes to Lake Tahoe, Salt Lake City. New Orleans. She criss-crosses the Atlantic several times, visiting France, Spain, and Germany. Sometimes she looks for other Jews, other times she scrabbles to find some remnant of her family's history or names carved into cobblestones. Sometimes she dives into a romance with a cute German guy whose grandmother kissed the hand of Hitler.
So I guess I get what many readers didn't like about this book, but I see what Feldman is trying to do, too. Her whole mission to find herself feels deeper and more meaningful to me than it does in some other memoirs with similar trajectories. She's still young, and she has been through so much in her life. Her family's history is very complicated. She wants to leave her insular religious community, but she can't reject--nor does she want to reject--her Jewishness. She's still searching. Maybe she'll always be searching.
If Feldman writes a third memoir, I would read it!
June 6, 2014
In thinking of how to review this book, I was concerned that there would be a *chance* Deborah could read it. Goodreads is an increasingly popular site and she is human. Surely she has nights where she sips coffee or wine and reviews what the internet has to say about her contributions to literature. I feel like she's been through enough and doesn't need my judgement added to the mix.
To add some context; I thoroughly enjoyed Unorthodox! To be fair, like another reviewer said, I read Unorthodox in order to learn more about Hasidic extremism. It was fascinating! When I picked up Exodus I eagerly expected more of the same.
That being said, I didn't like this book at all. In fact, towards the end, I began to skip over parts and sigh and roll my eyes. She name drops, makes frequent sweeping generalizations, and is abrasive. I fully GET why she'd be abrasive, but it became obnoxious and intolerable. I also couldn't help but wonder where her son was during all of the travels she describes in this book (remember the part where I said she doesn't need more judgement?).
In reference to sweeping generalizations that induced eye-rolling in me, I cite the following example: "I would learn soon that Germans are perpetually hungry, whether or not it's mealtime" (p. 237). Are you kidding me?! Did I really just read that?! That sentence about sums up the experience of reading this book. The book felt self-gratifying, like an obnoxious exercise in impression management.
So, there you have it: One judgmental review to add to the pool of judgement this poor girl has already lived through.
To add some context; I thoroughly enjoyed Unorthodox! To be fair, like another reviewer said, I read Unorthodox in order to learn more about Hasidic extremism. It was fascinating! When I picked up Exodus I eagerly expected more of the same.
That being said, I didn't like this book at all. In fact, towards the end, I began to skip over parts and sigh and roll my eyes. She name drops, makes frequent sweeping generalizations, and is abrasive. I fully GET why she'd be abrasive, but it became obnoxious and intolerable. I also couldn't help but wonder where her son was during all of the travels she describes in this book (remember the part where I said she doesn't need more judgement?).
In reference to sweeping generalizations that induced eye-rolling in me, I cite the following example: "I would learn soon that Germans are perpetually hungry, whether or not it's mealtime" (p. 237). Are you kidding me?! Did I really just read that?! That sentence about sums up the experience of reading this book. The book felt self-gratifying, like an obnoxious exercise in impression management.
So, there you have it: One judgmental review to add to the pool of judgement this poor girl has already lived through.
January 6, 2016
girlfriend's second book was due so she kind of just wrote down everything she did in the past year and turned it in
unfinished
March 13, 2018I only made it 20 pages into this one. A memoir about a woman’s loss of faith (here, that involved leaving her marriage and her Hasidic Jewish community) should be right up my street, but I had trouble connecting with Feldman’s voice. I didn’t sense honest wrestling, just hipster angst. (Should I bother trying her previous memoir, Unorthodox?) These two passages might help you see why I bristled at her style:
“Let me be clear: my life, right now, is amazing. I have everything I ever dreamed of, and I never forget just how lucky I am to have achieved it. But my feelings have been failing to catch on to the changes in my life; in some ways my brain is still stuck in the past.”
“I had gone six months without a full night’s sleep when I stopped into my favorite coffee shop one morning in March of 2013 to perk myself up with a soy latte before I picked Isaac up from school. … As I sat down to wait for my coffee, I recognized an acquaintance, Robert, a local naturopath.” (and then she meets a sleep doctor/shaman and makes an appointment)
“Let me be clear: my life, right now, is amazing. I have everything I ever dreamed of, and I never forget just how lucky I am to have achieved it. But my feelings have been failing to catch on to the changes in my life; in some ways my brain is still stuck in the past.”
“I had gone six months without a full night’s sleep when I stopped into my favorite coffee shop one morning in March of 2013 to perk myself up with a soy latte before I picked Isaac up from school. … As I sat down to wait for my coffee, I recognized an acquaintance, Robert, a local naturopath.” (and then she meets a sleep doctor/shaman and makes an appointment)
April 18, 2014
Such a poor book and extremely disappointing. Unorthodox was so good. This book does not follow at all.
January 30, 2024
Ein sehr dicht erzähltes Buch, für das man sich Zeit und einen freien Kopf nehmen sollte.
Sehr selbstreflektiert geschrieben und voller Denkanstöße. Ist wahrscheinlich nicht für jeden etwas, aber wer offen für die Themen Judentum, Identität und Immigration ist, bekommt hier einiges an Informationen, historischen Hintergründen und moralischen sowie philosophischen Fragen an die Hand. Und das alles angereichert durch eine sehr persönliche und berührende Erzählweise, die weder belehrt noch verurteilt.
Sehr bemerkenswert.
Sehr selbstreflektiert geschrieben und voller Denkanstöße. Ist wahrscheinlich nicht für jeden etwas, aber wer offen für die Themen Judentum, Identität und Immigration ist, bekommt hier einiges an Informationen, historischen Hintergründen und moralischen sowie philosophischen Fragen an die Hand. Und das alles angereichert durch eine sehr persönliche und berührende Erzählweise, die weder belehrt noch verurteilt.
Sehr bemerkenswert.
June 17, 2014
Book was disappointing. I was expecting to read more about the author's and son's breaking away from their Hassidic society and enjoying a new life in New England. Instead, I found the book to be a treatise on the world's antisemitism.
Felt the author discriminated against just about ever nation or person she encountered.
Felt the author discriminated against just about ever nation or person she encountered.
February 16, 2015
Powerful. Exodus is a deeply moving, painful tale of self discovery and transformation.
I am aware that Deborah Feldman's actions and books are very controversial, and people claim that she has lied and left out important details... While I could do research and doubt her writings, I'm not interested in doing so. I choose to accept it at face value because I feel its veracity, firstly because I recognize so much truth in it, in terms of both Orthodox law and mentality, and secondly because it is so honest (at times uncomfortably so). I could be wrong, but it doesn't matter. I don't know whether everything is absolutely accurate, but the struggle and journey feels incredibly real and the writing makes me feel the pain and conflict brewing inside her. This book is so intense, so beautifully written, that it touches the soul. I identify with it as a woman, as a Jew, and as one trying to find one's place in this incredibly complex world.
Deborah Feldman breaks from her religious roots and immerses into a new world--both the past of her ancestors in Europe and the present of her secular surroundings in America--in the process to reach deep within herself, heal what is broken, and understand herself within this new context. In the process she breaks major transgressions of Jewish law (pretty much all of them) and reading about it made me feel slightly scandalized because as a practicing Jew it feels inherently wrong, and I felt disappointed not with her but with her family and community: the way they raised and rejected her was so unhealthy that she felt the need to throw away all she had been taught in order to heal. This proves my long standing belief that the more parents force their way of life on their children and repress their ability to express themselves, the more violently they will rebel and reject their teachings. Thankfully I was raised in a healthy home where I was shown the right way but allowed to make my own mistakes and question things and be understood, and that allowed me to accept and appreciate my religion. Put in her position, I can't say I would be able to do so, and therefore I don't feel that I am allowed to judge her for her actions.
I appreciate and sympathize with Deborah's struggle to find herself, to reconstruct a world for herself, physically, emotionally, spiritually, morally, and sexually. She travels great distances, both literally and figuratively, in order to reconcile her past with her present, her beliefs with her actions, and to move forward from the injustices she suffered. When she visits Europe, Germany specifically, she feels rage at the unspeakable horrors done to the Jews during the Holocaust... I generally feel that reading about anything remotely related to the Holocaust is unbearably painful, but she does it in a way that evokes raw emotion with being gruesome and scarring. I appreciate that I was able to read about it and feel the pain of my people without having to close the book and stop reading.
Exodus is a truly intense and moving reading experience. Recommended, but not for the easily scandalized or faint of heart.
I am aware that Deborah Feldman's actions and books are very controversial, and people claim that she has lied and left out important details... While I could do research and doubt her writings, I'm not interested in doing so. I choose to accept it at face value because I feel its veracity, firstly because I recognize so much truth in it, in terms of both Orthodox law and mentality, and secondly because it is so honest (at times uncomfortably so). I could be wrong, but it doesn't matter. I don't know whether everything is absolutely accurate, but the struggle and journey feels incredibly real and the writing makes me feel the pain and conflict brewing inside her. This book is so intense, so beautifully written, that it touches the soul. I identify with it as a woman, as a Jew, and as one trying to find one's place in this incredibly complex world.
Deborah Feldman breaks from her religious roots and immerses into a new world--both the past of her ancestors in Europe and the present of her secular surroundings in America--in the process to reach deep within herself, heal what is broken, and understand herself within this new context. In the process she breaks major transgressions of Jewish law (pretty much all of them) and reading about it made me feel slightly scandalized because as a practicing Jew it feels inherently wrong, and I felt disappointed not with her but with her family and community: the way they raised and rejected her was so unhealthy that she felt the need to throw away all she had been taught in order to heal. This proves my long standing belief that the more parents force their way of life on their children and repress their ability to express themselves, the more violently they will rebel and reject their teachings. Thankfully I was raised in a healthy home where I was shown the right way but allowed to make my own mistakes and question things and be understood, and that allowed me to accept and appreciate my religion. Put in her position, I can't say I would be able to do so, and therefore I don't feel that I am allowed to judge her for her actions.
I appreciate and sympathize with Deborah's struggle to find herself, to reconstruct a world for herself, physically, emotionally, spiritually, morally, and sexually. She travels great distances, both literally and figuratively, in order to reconcile her past with her present, her beliefs with her actions, and to move forward from the injustices she suffered. When she visits Europe, Germany specifically, she feels rage at the unspeakable horrors done to the Jews during the Holocaust... I generally feel that reading about anything remotely related to the Holocaust is unbearably painful, but she does it in a way that evokes raw emotion with being gruesome and scarring. I appreciate that I was able to read about it and feel the pain of my people without having to close the book and stop reading.
Exodus is a truly intense and moving reading experience. Recommended, but not for the easily scandalized or faint of heart.
July 2, 2014
Hm.
This follow-up to Unorthodox is an introspective journey-type memoir in which Ms. Feldman sort of tries to connect with her European heritage as well as her Americanness. There were sections I really loved: the short part about Deborah the prophet, the author's trip to Hungary and her attempt to understand and relate to her Grandmother, and the parts about her convert friend. But I also spent a huge amount of time listening to her and feeling annoyed. Despite how fascinated I am with her story and how much I respect what she's doing, I've just never been able to really *like* Deborah Feldman. She makes these misguided snap judgements about huge groups of people (Southerners who are really Texans, Germans, "rednecks", Norwegians, people who listen to audiobooks (this last one having a nice ironic meta effect when read by her in the audio edition of the book)) and then she exploits stereotypes to support her flat characterizations.
As in her previous book, I thought some scenarios seemed exaggerated, especially the more violent episodes. For example, Ms. Feldman has personally witnessed black men being beaten to nearly to death TWICE in her short life. Coincidence? Or a love of drama and the tendency to use (other people's) race to make a point?
She is also obnoxiously self-absorbed - more so than most memoirists, and that's saying something. Her self-absorption and tendency to exaggerate make it hard for me to take her seriously when everywhere she goes she discovers (or perceives) raging antisemitism. I'm not sure how much to blame on her Hasidic upbringing and how much to blame on her innate personality, but either way: by the end of this book I was ready for a break from this author.
This follow-up to Unorthodox is an introspective journey-type memoir in which Ms. Feldman sort of tries to connect with her European heritage as well as her Americanness. There were sections I really loved: the short part about Deborah the prophet, the author's trip to Hungary and her attempt to understand and relate to her Grandmother, and the parts about her convert friend. But I also spent a huge amount of time listening to her and feeling annoyed. Despite how fascinated I am with her story and how much I respect what she's doing, I've just never been able to really *like* Deborah Feldman. She makes these misguided snap judgements about huge groups of people (Southerners who are really Texans, Germans, "rednecks", Norwegians, people who listen to audiobooks (this last one having a nice ironic meta effect when read by her in the audio edition of the book)) and then she exploits stereotypes to support her flat characterizations.
As in her previous book, I thought some scenarios seemed exaggerated, especially the more violent episodes. For example, Ms. Feldman has personally witnessed black men being beaten to nearly to death TWICE in her short life. Coincidence? Or a love of drama and the tendency to use (other people's) race to make a point?
She is also obnoxiously self-absorbed - more so than most memoirists, and that's saying something. Her self-absorption and tendency to exaggerate make it hard for me to take her seriously when everywhere she goes she discovers (or perceives) raging antisemitism. I'm not sure how much to blame on her Hasidic upbringing and how much to blame on her innate personality, but either way: by the end of this book I was ready for a break from this author.
April 7, 2014
Feldman is a fantastic writer. She puts words and thoughts together as skillfully as someone way past her years and experience. I would read anything she writes. And I look forward to her next book.
Exodus is a little painful to read on some levels. After all, she is still in her late twenties. It seems like she's trying to live life very quickly and fully, but she does come from unique circumstances. You sense the pendulum swinging in her life and you wonder where it will stop--or even if it will. Can I guess that her next book will be about mothering? I hope that it will. I think she must value her privacy in her everyday life, because she has put so much of her out there--literally laying herself naked. Can you feel the pendulum swinging?
Bother her fragility and strength shine through in this book. You can't help but hold your breath and wish that she finds her equilibrium.
Exodus is a little painful to read on some levels. After all, she is still in her late twenties. It seems like she's trying to live life very quickly and fully, but she does come from unique circumstances. You sense the pendulum swinging in her life and you wonder where it will stop--or even if it will. Can I guess that her next book will be about mothering? I hope that it will. I think she must value her privacy in her everyday life, because she has put so much of her out there--literally laying herself naked. Can you feel the pendulum swinging?
Bother her fragility and strength shine through in this book. You can't help but hold your breath and wish that she finds her equilibrium.
May 25, 2014
When recounting the Exodus of the Children of Israel from Egypt, the Bible recounts not one, but rather a series of 42 journeys. Why? Because no Exodus, no journey of personal self-transformation, is complete in a single step. Rather, as we seek to discover who we are, we are faced with the realization that there is always more to do, always a chance to grow deeper.
In her own "Exdous" Deborah Feldman seems to mistake telling us about her travel itinerary with telling us about her personal journey.
Even as she searches to form a new Jewish identity, she looks to only the broadest, must superficial strokes. When she wants to teach her son about Jewish life, she plays Fiddler on the Roof. When she looks to show others that she is a Jew, she makes jokes about her nose and talks of bagels and schmear. The people she meets are stereotypes - Texans have sun-leathered skin, people from Hungary look like they could come directly from a Vampire movie. It's cliched and trite. By the time we get to her sexual fetishism of Germans in her personal Nazi-Jewish role-playing, the book is already running on fumes.
In her own "Exdous" Deborah Feldman seems to mistake telling us about her travel itinerary with telling us about her personal journey.
Even as she searches to form a new Jewish identity, she looks to only the broadest, must superficial strokes. When she wants to teach her son about Jewish life, she plays Fiddler on the Roof. When she looks to show others that she is a Jew, she makes jokes about her nose and talks of bagels and schmear. The people she meets are stereotypes - Texans have sun-leathered skin, people from Hungary look like they could come directly from a Vampire movie. It's cliched and trite. By the time we get to her sexual fetishism of Germans in her personal Nazi-Jewish role-playing, the book is already running on fumes.
June 18, 2014
Ugh. What a disappointment. This is the classic situation that I've seen a million times. Someone writes a great first memoir. Then they get a book deal for another one and just don't have much to say or haven't figured out how to say it yet. Feldman's first book, "Unorthodox" was fascinating and well written. Exodus was just... well, it was kind of boring. I wish her the best on her journey to heal herself, but I don't want to read about her (mostly uneventful and unrevealing) therapy sessions. I almost made it to the end, but stopped with about 30 pages left to go because I just didn't care anymore.
Read "Unorthodox." Skip "Exodus."
Read "Unorthodox." Skip "Exodus."
July 27, 2014
Assuming that each of us has a story to tell, it is important to note that there is usually only one story. This is a perfect example. Unorthodox was enjoyable and readable (in spite of all the controversy I read here about it's truth or lack thereof). A memoir is just that, a memory. So - who am I to say it is real or not. That being said, readers do not need to read EVERY memory and this book really did not need to be written. Journaling her self-awareness and eventual acceptance of herself would have been sufficient. Publishing it is self-aggrandizing. Did not come away enlightened or better for the read - although I think Ms. Feldman comes away both from her experience of writing this down. Mostly, I am happy her vagina works ;)
May 28, 2021
3.5 stars rounded up to 4.
Exodus is a story about the ways we discover and craft our identity when we realize that our old life doesn’t serve us anymore. Unlike Unorthodox, this book focuses less on stories about Feldman’s time in the Satmar Jewish Community and more on her journey to understanding who she is without the framework of religion to define every aspect of her life. I enjoyed her stories about visiting a shaman, speaking with artists, and talking to Jews and non-Jews alike. So much of the story was about the negotiation between having an identity that is wholly defined by your religion and culture vs. the discovery and subsequent work of trying to figure out who you want to be outside of the influence of religion and culture. Her journey through deconstruction is something I found relatable.
I know some people didn’t enjoy this book, and I think that might stem from how jarring the non-linear narrative can feel at times. I found myself unsure of what events preceded others, whereas this was much easier to track in Unorthodox. The nuances of deconstruction don’t have the same immediate appeal as gawking at someone living such a rigid and unique life, but I think there is just as much to be gained from this part of the story. The true issue is that this book doesn’t feel as tidy as Unorthodox. This may be because part of that book was written while Feldman was studying at university, so she was able to get feedback and work on it. Another possibility, which I find more likely, is that Unorthodox was written with no expectation for a sister sequel. It was only after the first book exploded that the second book deal was offered, and a new path needed to be forged.
I enjoyed this book, but it was different than I expected. I think readers going in with an expectation of what they’ll see and hear based on the first book are setting themselves up for disappointment, but if they go in with an open mind, it’s enjoyable!
Exodus is a story about the ways we discover and craft our identity when we realize that our old life doesn’t serve us anymore. Unlike Unorthodox, this book focuses less on stories about Feldman’s time in the Satmar Jewish Community and more on her journey to understanding who she is without the framework of religion to define every aspect of her life. I enjoyed her stories about visiting a shaman, speaking with artists, and talking to Jews and non-Jews alike. So much of the story was about the negotiation between having an identity that is wholly defined by your religion and culture vs. the discovery and subsequent work of trying to figure out who you want to be outside of the influence of religion and culture. Her journey through deconstruction is something I found relatable.
I know some people didn’t enjoy this book, and I think that might stem from how jarring the non-linear narrative can feel at times. I found myself unsure of what events preceded others, whereas this was much easier to track in Unorthodox. The nuances of deconstruction don’t have the same immediate appeal as gawking at someone living such a rigid and unique life, but I think there is just as much to be gained from this part of the story. The true issue is that this book doesn’t feel as tidy as Unorthodox. This may be because part of that book was written while Feldman was studying at university, so she was able to get feedback and work on it. Another possibility, which I find more likely, is that Unorthodox was written with no expectation for a sister sequel. It was only after the first book exploded that the second book deal was offered, and a new path needed to be forged.
I enjoyed this book, but it was different than I expected. I think readers going in with an expectation of what they’ll see and hear based on the first book are setting themselves up for disappointment, but if they go in with an open mind, it’s enjoyable!
April 4, 2021
Neue Perspektiven auf die Welt wie wir glauben sie zu kennen. Und ein Land das wir nicht sein wollen und uns doch nicht Trennen können von unserer Realität.
July 27, 2014
I loved Deborah Feldman's first memoir Unorthodox, where she described growing up in the Hasidic Jewish community and making the decision to leave. Exodus picks up shortly after Unorthodox ends. She has to work out how to support herself and her son and make the HUGE adjustment to life outside the rigid and secluded Orthodox Jewish community. Feldman is also trying to work out how she can connect with her Jewish heritage and religion outside of the Hasidic community. In order to work through a lot of her issues she travels across the US and decides to trace her Grandmother's roots in Europe - starting in Hungary where her Grandmother was born to the concentration camps in Germany that her Grandmother survived. Feldman discovers a lot on her European journey, unfortunately one thing she finds is that there is still a lot of anti-Semitism there. She struggles the most in Germany thinking about all that happened to the Jews there because of the Nazis. Incredibly though she also falls in love with a German man who's grandparents were Nazis!
Overall, I think this book was almost as good as Unorthodox. The story is not strictly chronological, but it works. She walks through some of the journeys she took to discover herself after her Exodus and also explores her family's Holocaust history and shows just how much that affected her growing up and still today. My only complaint was there was some definite weirdness/awkwardness with her relationship with the German guy who's grandparents were Nazis - she was very conflicted about their relationship even though he was ashamed of his family's history. There were a few weird/uncomfortable sexual scenes that I did not need to know about with him. But, overall it was a really good book and I definitely enjoyed it. I look forward to her future work.
Overall, I think this book was almost as good as Unorthodox. The story is not strictly chronological, but it works. She walks through some of the journeys she took to discover herself after her Exodus and also explores her family's Holocaust history and shows just how much that affected her growing up and still today. My only complaint was there was some definite weirdness/awkwardness with her relationship with the German guy who's grandparents were Nazis - she was very conflicted about their relationship even though he was ashamed of his family's history. There were a few weird/uncomfortable sexual scenes that I did not need to know about with him. But, overall it was a really good book and I definitely enjoyed it. I look forward to her future work.
November 13, 2015
Exodus is the story of a young woman leaving her Orthodox Jewish life. The book takes place after her first memoir, Unorthodox, which I have not read. This book really made me want to go back and read that one. This book is basically a collection of different experiences that Deborah Feldman has one she escapes from her religion.
I kind of wish that there is been a little bit more of a central story because the way that the book was broken up was jarring and made it hard to get into the book. The book almost feels like a collection of disparate parts instead of a full story, which took me out of the story. This book is mostly about Deborah trying to make a new life outside of her religion and community that she is always known. She is getting used to many different things and having a lot of different experiences. She does many things to try and get her new life on track and they don't always work out. Again I think they disconnect between the various stories that she tells made only an okay experience for me.
I kind of wish that there is been a little bit more of a central story because the way that the book was broken up was jarring and made it hard to get into the book. The book almost feels like a collection of disparate parts instead of a full story, which took me out of the story. This book is mostly about Deborah trying to make a new life outside of her religion and community that she is always known. She is getting used to many different things and having a lot of different experiences. She does many things to try and get her new life on track and they don't always work out. Again I think they disconnect between the various stories that she tells made only an okay experience for me.
November 24, 2020
If you're looking for a book just as good as Unorthodox, this is not it. I was very excited to read this book and took it out via Libby right after I finished Unorthodox. I was extremely disappointed.
Honestly the author comes off as extremely pretentious to me in both her journey and her writing style. Its hard to reconcile that this is the same person who wrote Unorthodox. I understand its years later she wrote this but still its just difficult to stomach how pretentious the story and writing style is.
The structure of the story really didn't interest me as it was more like a collection of short stories. I didn't get into many of them but if I did she would move on from something without a real conclusion or point.
I saw all the negative reviews but I still read it . Took me a little over 4 months but I did it and didn't like it. Proceed at your own risk with this one.
Honestly the author comes off as extremely pretentious to me in both her journey and her writing style. Its hard to reconcile that this is the same person who wrote Unorthodox. I understand its years later she wrote this but still its just difficult to stomach how pretentious the story and writing style is.
The structure of the story really didn't interest me as it was more like a collection of short stories. I didn't get into many of them but if I did she would move on from something without a real conclusion or point.
I saw all the negative reviews but I still read it . Took me a little over 4 months but I did it and didn't like it. Proceed at your own risk with this one.
November 8, 2020
After reading Unorthodox I was intrigued to read Exodus, what a disappointment!!!
Many times in the book she says, “It never occurred to me.” Really? I can tell. I could go on and on about what bothered me about this book. Deborah talks about “the people” that live in “greater America” I guess she is talking about me because I live in the Pacific Northwest. Deborah sees a man sitting on his front porch polishing a gun and she said he gave her a dirty look. Then she goes on to say that people in “greater America” are all like that. For a woman who doesn’t want anyone to judge her…I find her very judgmental.
I rarely say this, but don’t bother with this one; it’s not worth your time.
Many times in the book she says, “It never occurred to me.” Really? I can tell. I could go on and on about what bothered me about this book. Deborah talks about “the people” that live in “greater America” I guess she is talking about me because I live in the Pacific Northwest. Deborah sees a man sitting on his front porch polishing a gun and she said he gave her a dirty look. Then she goes on to say that people in “greater America” are all like that. For a woman who doesn’t want anyone to judge her…I find her very judgmental.
I rarely say this, but don’t bother with this one; it’s not worth your time.
December 8, 2021
Me ha encantado, la verdad. La bilogía en general, ver otras realidades que nos quedan ajenas y coexisten con la nuestra
April 29, 2020
It's hard to stop reading once the book takes rythm.
She picks up the story approx where she left it in the previous book but in another aspect. She went from being a daughter of a closed community to becoming a young woman fighting for her independence who managed to take the final leap of escape.
In this book, much more intimate, she recounts her efforts, no longer of a child, to create her own place in a world that she does not know and in which she lacks a common past with others. Almost like a Martian who were looking to establishing here.
The process has everything human that is in the conversion into an adult, where childhood belongs to another world, other rules. Only in this case everything seems more extreme, and because of this, more intense.
This individuation is realized by choosing her path seeking knowledge that expands her community of origin to allow her to feel part of the world as a whole, to choose the niche to which she belongs not because of who she was supposed to be, but for who she really is.
Only conscious, open-eyed choice makes sense and she has to permanently renewed it to continuing growing
A courageous search that we all are suppose to do at some point in our lives, but that not all of us will doing, and in which conformity has no place.
This is not a tale of facts but feelings and emotions, and healing. And the story finish with the best of the ends.
She picks up the story approx where she left it in the previous book but in another aspect. She went from being a daughter of a closed community to becoming a young woman fighting for her independence who managed to take the final leap of escape.
In this book, much more intimate, she recounts her efforts, no longer of a child, to create her own place in a world that she does not know and in which she lacks a common past with others. Almost like a Martian who were looking to establishing here.
The process has everything human that is in the conversion into an adult, where childhood belongs to another world, other rules. Only in this case everything seems more extreme, and because of this, more intense.
This individuation is realized by choosing her path seeking knowledge that expands her community of origin to allow her to feel part of the world as a whole, to choose the niche to which she belongs not because of who she was supposed to be, but for who she really is.
Only conscious, open-eyed choice makes sense and she has to permanently renewed it to continuing growing
A courageous search that we all are suppose to do at some point in our lives, but that not all of us will doing, and in which conformity has no place.
This is not a tale of facts but feelings and emotions, and healing. And the story finish with the best of the ends.
March 9, 2023
Een waardige opvolger voor Onorthodox. Boeiend om het hele proces van uittreden uit de Satmar beweging en het 'jezelf uitvinden' te lezen en dan niet in romanvorm.
September 20, 2021
Monotonous, poorly written, and one of the worst sequels to a bestseller ever. And you discover that nothing in the Unorthodox TV series about Feldman's life after leaving the Jewish community is true. Absolutely nothing, and after reading this I know why. Her real story is too boring and depressing with her constant anxiety and self-analysis, and nothing really bad happens to her after she is treated just fine after she leaves.
There is literally nothing to this book with almost no real stories included. She claims at one point that she learned in college that a story must have a beginning and end. Nope, it needs a middle too and could us some kind of drama or conflict--I guess they don't teach the basics at Sarah Lawrence.
Feldman could have written the outline of the past ten years of her life in a few paragraphs, instead she wastes over 300 pages on what amounts to nothing. What the book ends up being is her therapy, putting on paper all her insecurities, uncertainties, fears, and reactions to the new world around her, even though she is actually treated well. If someone glances at her the wrong way she is convinced they're condemning Jews. If someone simply asks if she's Jewish, she takes great offense and fears giving an affirmative answer. She comes across as hating America (despite it giving her instant fame and wealth), is obsessed with Nazi's and stereotyping Germans (even claiming after seeing a couple neo-Nazi's in Germany that it's not a country "in which a majority of people condemn right-wing extremism"), and has some serious mental illness issues, making all sorts of bad choices. It's totally unclear how she not only survived but managed to seduce so many men into helping her and freely sleep with guys.
Her first book was mediocre and not well written. Her writing style hasn't improved much. She still has long, rambling, dull sections that add nothing to the little narrative there is. When something suddenly happens that appears eventful, she skips through it quickly without detailed descriptions or conversations. It's a frustrating book to read and, honestly, a total flop from the perspective of her telling her personal story.
By the end you realize this isn't supposed to be about her; the exodus she refers to is actually that of her dear grandmothers from the death camps, and this book would have worked better if it was just about her now departed relative. Instead we get references to her travels without stories, three weeks alone in a beach house in California where literally nothing happens, her dealing with fame without giving almost any specifics about what occurred when the book was published, and there's little about her husband, son or mother--all of whom are living just fine in a solid relationship with the author despite the Netflix show fictionalizing it otherwise.
If you loved the Netflix series then skip this book--it will infuriate you that they totally mislead viewers about Feldman's life after leaving her husband. If you are a practicing Jew you might want to skip this as well--she makes sure to take a stand that rejects the faith and God, saying she hasn't prayed one prayer in like 7 years. Then we come to find out the husband she divorced ran off with another woman and left the faith as well. Her thoughts on that? We don't know, she never gives insight into any story details or her reactions to them.
There may be some that think the book is good because it suddenly swerves into an anti-Nazi stance, but it makes such broad generalizations about Germany I'm shocked she lives there. Feldman didn't seem to appreciate her American freedoms and First Amendment speech rights, so she became a citizen of a country where there are strict laws about what people can say, do, and wear (including throwing someone in jail for having a pro-Nazi tattoo!) While I empathize with the descendants of those who had horrible atrocities done to them, Feldman doesn't do the cause any justice in this book.
In the end I felt misled, deceived, tricked, angry and upset that someone gave this woman another book contract but we still don't know a lot of details about her life after leaving the Jewish community. At least give her some writing lessons and get her an editor that knows what a story is! This is one that still needs to be fully revisited.
There is literally nothing to this book with almost no real stories included. She claims at one point that she learned in college that a story must have a beginning and end. Nope, it needs a middle too and could us some kind of drama or conflict--I guess they don't teach the basics at Sarah Lawrence.
Feldman could have written the outline of the past ten years of her life in a few paragraphs, instead she wastes over 300 pages on what amounts to nothing. What the book ends up being is her therapy, putting on paper all her insecurities, uncertainties, fears, and reactions to the new world around her, even though she is actually treated well. If someone glances at her the wrong way she is convinced they're condemning Jews. If someone simply asks if she's Jewish, she takes great offense and fears giving an affirmative answer. She comes across as hating America (despite it giving her instant fame and wealth), is obsessed with Nazi's and stereotyping Germans (even claiming after seeing a couple neo-Nazi's in Germany that it's not a country "in which a majority of people condemn right-wing extremism"), and has some serious mental illness issues, making all sorts of bad choices. It's totally unclear how she not only survived but managed to seduce so many men into helping her and freely sleep with guys.
Her first book was mediocre and not well written. Her writing style hasn't improved much. She still has long, rambling, dull sections that add nothing to the little narrative there is. When something suddenly happens that appears eventful, she skips through it quickly without detailed descriptions or conversations. It's a frustrating book to read and, honestly, a total flop from the perspective of her telling her personal story.
By the end you realize this isn't supposed to be about her; the exodus she refers to is actually that of her dear grandmothers from the death camps, and this book would have worked better if it was just about her now departed relative. Instead we get references to her travels without stories, three weeks alone in a beach house in California where literally nothing happens, her dealing with fame without giving almost any specifics about what occurred when the book was published, and there's little about her husband, son or mother--all of whom are living just fine in a solid relationship with the author despite the Netflix show fictionalizing it otherwise.
If you loved the Netflix series then skip this book--it will infuriate you that they totally mislead viewers about Feldman's life after leaving her husband. If you are a practicing Jew you might want to skip this as well--she makes sure to take a stand that rejects the faith and God, saying she hasn't prayed one prayer in like 7 years. Then we come to find out the husband she divorced ran off with another woman and left the faith as well. Her thoughts on that? We don't know, she never gives insight into any story details or her reactions to them.
There may be some that think the book is good because it suddenly swerves into an anti-Nazi stance, but it makes such broad generalizations about Germany I'm shocked she lives there. Feldman didn't seem to appreciate her American freedoms and First Amendment speech rights, so she became a citizen of a country where there are strict laws about what people can say, do, and wear (including throwing someone in jail for having a pro-Nazi tattoo!) While I empathize with the descendants of those who had horrible atrocities done to them, Feldman doesn't do the cause any justice in this book.
In the end I felt misled, deceived, tricked, angry and upset that someone gave this woman another book contract but we still don't know a lot of details about her life after leaving the Jewish community. At least give her some writing lessons and get her an editor that knows what a story is! This is one that still needs to be fully revisited.
May 17, 2024
Nesigailiu perskaičiusi knygą, tačiau kartais norėjosi ją jau padėti į šoną. Vietomis tikrai labai gražūs aprašymai, perteikti žodžiais išgyvenimai atrandant ar ieškant savo giminės šaknų, žinant, kad nemažai daliai jų teko susidurti su brutaliausia antisemitizmo forma. Tačiau kartais knyga atrodo, kaip "ką matau tą dainuoju", lyg pametama struktūra ar rašant iš esmės keičiama, o gal tos struktūros ir aiškios idėjos ir nebuvo, tiesiog rašyti keliaujant per gyvenimą. Kai kur iš asmeninių išgyvenimų aprašymo atrodo perauga į labiau tokią lyg paskaitą, kur norim lyg ABC pateikti antisemitizmo skirtingose Europos šalyse istoriją ir būtinai įrodyti, kad jis egzistuoja kažkam, kas nieko apskritai apie tai nežino ir skiriant tuos epizodus būtent tokiam skaitytojui. T.y. tampa atrodo nebe asmeniniu išgyvenimu, bet gana paprastu aprašymu faktų. Bet tai daroma ne visai kokybiškai. Kai kur pati nevengia realiai apibendrinimų kitų žmonių ir savo apmąstymus pateikia lyg faktus. Knygoje neišvengiamai susipina, bandymas išgyventi traumą, savęs paieškas ir Holokausto istorija. Yra stiprių dalių, bet bendrai knyga silpnoka.
November 8, 2021
Exodus was first published in 2014, as a follow up to Feldman’s first book, Unorthodox, which is now a series on Netflix.
In August of this year, the author expanded the first edition of Exodus and brings us Exodus, Revisited, an expanded version, with 50% more material.
I loved Unorthodox, both the book and the series, and was very curious to hear more about Deborah’s journey to freedom. When the first book was written, she had left the Satmar Hasidic Jewish community in Brooklyn NY. Exodus, Revisited continues her story, as she struggles on her own as a single mother, trying to make a home for herself and her young son. She feels a pull towards the European culture, and ends up spending a lot of time there, searching for the truth about her family’s roots, and is especially interested her grandmother’s experience as the only surviving member of her family. The rest of them died in Auschwitz.
In this book Feldman is more reflective as she tries to find her place in the world. She has left the community, yes, but what does this mean for her strong Jewish faith? How can she feel such a sense of home in Berlin, where there was so much hardship for her ancestors? What can she teach her son, both about her life experiences and what happened to their people?
What I loved about this story is how Feldman is most motivated by her love for her child, and her desire for him to grow up more with more worldly experiences than she did….and yet she is also finding what it means to be free to make her own choices in the world, and how surprisingly difficult this can be.
It is a well-written book and I really enjoyed learning more about her life. Many thanks to Plume Books for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
In August of this year, the author expanded the first edition of Exodus and brings us Exodus, Revisited, an expanded version, with 50% more material.
I loved Unorthodox, both the book and the series, and was very curious to hear more about Deborah’s journey to freedom. When the first book was written, she had left the Satmar Hasidic Jewish community in Brooklyn NY. Exodus, Revisited continues her story, as she struggles on her own as a single mother, trying to make a home for herself and her young son. She feels a pull towards the European culture, and ends up spending a lot of time there, searching for the truth about her family’s roots, and is especially interested her grandmother’s experience as the only surviving member of her family. The rest of them died in Auschwitz.
In this book Feldman is more reflective as she tries to find her place in the world. She has left the community, yes, but what does this mean for her strong Jewish faith? How can she feel such a sense of home in Berlin, where there was so much hardship for her ancestors? What can she teach her son, both about her life experiences and what happened to their people?
What I loved about this story is how Feldman is most motivated by her love for her child, and her desire for him to grow up more with more worldly experiences than she did….and yet she is also finding what it means to be free to make her own choices in the world, and how surprisingly difficult this can be.
It is a well-written book and I really enjoyed learning more about her life. Many thanks to Plume Books for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
July 31, 2021
O książce dowiedziałam się przypadkiem, ale nie w kontekście jej poprzedniczki "Unorthodox", tylko podczas przeszukiwania katalogu w usłudze Legimi.
Według opisu wydawcy i tego, co zostało umieszczone na okładce spodziewałam się więcej przeżyć i opisów związanych z adaptacją do nowego środowiska i radzeniem sobie z codziennymi przeciwnościami losu, z punktu widzenia osoby do tej pory żyjącej w całkowitej izolacji i kompletnie nie znającej mechanizmów świata współczesnego. Niestety tego jest w książce najmniej. Dla mnie jest to powód dużego rozczarowania.
Natomiast to co tutaj znajdziemy to ciąg dalszy rozliczania się z przeszłością, filozoficzno-religijne rozważania na temat ortodoksyjnej wiary żydowskiej. Miałam wrażenie, że Autorka z jednej strony chciałaby zrzucić więzy narzucone od dzieciństwa, a z drugiej ciągle wspomina i poszukuje prawd, w których wyrosła udowodniając ich niezaprzeczalny i często pożądany wpływ na obecne życie (Bóg zawsze podsunie rozwiązanie sytuacji i pomoże w każdej sprawie), tak jakby chciała przed swoimi współbraćmi wytłumaczyć się ze swojej decyzji, oczekując zrozumienia, a co za tym idzie nie zamykać, raz definitywnie zatrzaśniętych drzwi. Momentami miałam wrażenie, że Autorka prezentuje specyficzne rozdwojenie jaźni. Za mało prawdziwego życia, za dużo niepotrzebnej dyskusji i roztrząsania odwiecznych prawd religijnych.
Autorka w epilogu zapowiada pojawienie się być może kolejnej książki, opisującej jej życie jako obywatelki Niemiec, ale z obawy, że będą to kolejne wywody o niekończącej się wędrówce i upokorzeniu jakie przypisywane są każdemu Żydowi - wiecznemu tułaczowi, na obecną chwilę, nie mam ochoty tego czytać
Według opisu wydawcy i tego, co zostało umieszczone na okładce spodziewałam się więcej przeżyć i opisów związanych z adaptacją do nowego środowiska i radzeniem sobie z codziennymi przeciwnościami losu, z punktu widzenia osoby do tej pory żyjącej w całkowitej izolacji i kompletnie nie znającej mechanizmów świata współczesnego. Niestety tego jest w książce najmniej. Dla mnie jest to powód dużego rozczarowania.
Natomiast to co tutaj znajdziemy to ciąg dalszy rozliczania się z przeszłością, filozoficzno-religijne rozważania na temat ortodoksyjnej wiary żydowskiej. Miałam wrażenie, że Autorka z jednej strony chciałaby zrzucić więzy narzucone od dzieciństwa, a z drugiej ciągle wspomina i poszukuje prawd, w których wyrosła udowodniając ich niezaprzeczalny i często pożądany wpływ na obecne życie (Bóg zawsze podsunie rozwiązanie sytuacji i pomoże w każdej sprawie), tak jakby chciała przed swoimi współbraćmi wytłumaczyć się ze swojej decyzji, oczekując zrozumienia, a co za tym idzie nie zamykać, raz definitywnie zatrzaśniętych drzwi. Momentami miałam wrażenie, że Autorka prezentuje specyficzne rozdwojenie jaźni. Za mało prawdziwego życia, za dużo niepotrzebnej dyskusji i roztrząsania odwiecznych prawd religijnych.
Autorka w epilogu zapowiada pojawienie się być może kolejnej książki, opisującej jej życie jako obywatelki Niemiec, ale z obawy, że będą to kolejne wywody o niekończącej się wędrówce i upokorzeniu jakie przypisywane są każdemu Żydowi - wiecznemu tułaczowi, na obecną chwilę, nie mam ochoty tego czytać
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