Andrew Ramer's new book, Queering the Text: Biblical, Medieval, and Modern Jewish Stories , grapples with traditional midrashim, plays with homoerotic love poems from medieval Spain, and envisions alternate versions of the present. Inspired by the pioneering work of Jewish feminists, using the same narrative tools as the rabbis of old, Ramer has crafted stories that anchor LGBT lives in the three thousand year old history of the Jewish people. "The universe is made up of stories, not atoms," wrote poet Muriel Ruckeyser. The stories in this book will transport you to a new universe the one we are striving to create, right here and now.
In the introduction Andrew Ramer speaks to root of his stories, "In Hebrew, these stories are called midrashim, from the root drash, "to inquire." Midrashim are designated to fill gaps in scripture. For example, the Torah prohibits work on the Sabbath, without defining what's forbidden. Legal midrashim enumerate the categories of banned work. Narrative midrashim expand or interpret biblical stories, as in the tales of Adam's first wife Lilith, who isn't mentioned in the Torah. The earlier preserved midrashim date back to the first two centuries of the Common Era."
Here in Seattle we have the journal titled Drash published at a local temple, so I was familiar with the word; so, I'm glad to read the many short stories that go back in history, up to the present day, that take this concept and examine theses spaces in history. Andrew, with his gifts, is the perfect writer to tell these stories.
I've been friends with Andrew since the 1980s in NYC, he was part of my spiritual community, met through a grassroots dream community. To my delight, I'm acknowledged in his latest book as part of his 'scattered tribe,' what an honor! This book, like his book "Two Flutes Playing," is revolutionary in it's role to bring forth a new mythology of gay life, one that is deeply Jewish. He changes the world through his vision of pure love. With his deep understanding and study of the Torah he tells stories that could be true and in an altered reality I believe they are pure truth. This is a book that is kind, forgiving, insightful, brilliant. Do not hesitate to read this book.
One would think a gay re-interpretation of Jewish scriptures might be tough going in spots, but Ramer makes an effort to be more pointed than pedantic. And when it shines, as in the middle section, “Al-Andalus: Tales of an Imaginary Spain,” inspired by some homoerotic poetry from medieval Spain, his reimaginings are truly beautiful to behold. Despite a rather dry sound, this is an engaging and illuminating read worth your time.