Not what I expected, though I suppose that esoteric language about books, study and religious practice fits the bill. Still, I found it to be a little ungrounded.
Ostensibly, this 173-page memoir is supposed to chronicle Blumberg's experiences in various religious and academic study environments. And she does do that, from her religious elementary school where she learned Hebrew in a church, to the Beit Midrash of her Modern Orthodox high school adorned with the biblical line "Know before whom you stand", to the not-quite-yeshiva that she attended for a year in Jerusalem and the cramped women's study space that she and her religious female friends founded in college. Also having to do with college, libraries and lecture halls where she learned to appreciate the words of Victorians, particularly George Elliot.
Most sections of the book started with a specific date at top, an anchor of sorts to ground us to part of Blumberg's life, though she also moved around a bit in all of them. The first section, Binah, named for something religiously feminine, "the ability to know one thing from another," is the one that's just sort of out there. It seems that it's a piece of theoretical writing that she'd been trying to write about her experiences of learning as a woman since the 1980s.
There's a lot of beautiful phrases in here, ranging from the power of books, her grandfather's hand in celebrating modern Hebrew and acting as a signpost for Orthodox Jews to learn it, to the physical dimensions of learning spaces where women may or may not feel that they belong. There's also the difference between studying biblical commentaries to something much different in secular literature, where authors aren't seen as quite so authoritative. And there's lots about different practices of Judaism, from Blumberg's "Conservadox" upbringing--her parents often more traditional, but wanting to raise her egalitarian where they could--but they actually had to move when Blumberg was in high school for the lack of religious schools. Blumberg poses, showing how central religious education is to her identity, why would any school stop at 14?
As a Jew with a far less thorough grasp of religious textual study, much less in Hebrew, I was fascinated and a little jealous of this world. I was also an English major--I love the power of story--though I'm a little hesitant of my traditional prowess in that arena, too. I'm very bad at remembering quotes, for one thing. And if I were to claim that I understood a writer's works, it would probably be someone contemporary, someone I read on my own, rather than most of the academic "classical" authors. But I could feel the power of that world--these stories written down in secular literature and the bible, plus all of their commentaries--and how it makes you understand humanity in a deeper way.
When it comes to women, I picked up early on Blumberg's allusions to Virginia Woolf's A ROOM OF ONE'S OWN, where she and her female friends are looking for a place within a traditional setting to learn, and to define their lives as more than marriage, motherhood, etc. By the time Blumberg addressed it directly, she acknowledged that the metaphor can only go so far, because to be a writer a woman can be alone, but to be a Jewish student, you need community. And that requires some leeway from men. Times are changing in the Modern Orthodox community, Blumberg wrote in 2007, where she, and woman of her education, are university scholars, she suggests, perhaps because they can't be ordained as rabbis. But now, conferences and learning spaces, the "houses of study" to put it religiously, are continuing to open up to women.
I think this is beautiful and complex about the place that Blumberg, and many Modern Orthodox women, aspire to have in the world. But I can't help but wish that the writing style and central message were a little more traditional and tight.