Usually I'm not a huge historical fiction person. I often find my my purist tendencies get in the way of my enjoyment of historical fiction. Rashi's Daughters came highly recommended to me by a close friend from my synagogue. It shared a lot of similarities, at least in voice, to Anita Diamant's "The Red Tent". It had engaging relationships between the characters and even though it's from Joheved's perspective, for the most part, others in the story are well rounded. One thing I feel that engaging historical fiction can do is challenge our perceptions and lead us to learn more. Due to my upbringing and the Jewish literature I'd read, I tended to always assume overt poverty and/or persecution of Jews, particularly in Medieval periods. I found myself wanting to learn more about this section of Jewish history. Too often I get so wrapped up in the trauma of the Inquisition that I miss a very rich and interesting history. It also made me want to read more of Rashi's work, though I think I'm going to need some help with that! I'm not a Torah scholar by any stretch of the imagination but I thought the discussion of the Talmud and Torah rang true and raised interesting points. When I think about other historical fictions that i've enjoyed, they've often been ones with well rounded characters who increase my desire to learn more about a time period. This book also tugged at my heart strings when I read the relationship between Joheved and her father, the famous Rashi. It reminded me of my own relationship with my father, who taught Hebrew school for many years. Too often in novels where there are only daughters, it's tempting to paint the angst of a father in depth. It's easy, especially when looking historically, to paint a picture of a father who grudgingly acknowledges his daughters' intelligence but to insert a romantic interest who easily loves the clever heroine (sometimes this man is the one who makes the father see his daughter for what she is). I was glad this wasn't so in "Rashi's Daughters". Another issue in many works is that the female character has clearly divided loyalties, meaning that she cannot be a daughter and a wife or a wife and a mother. Again, Anton skillfully avoids this troupe. The conflict comes from events, but there is none of the artificial relationship drama borne of horrible "misunderstandings" to shoehorn the happy characters into misery. Any conflict feels real. Lastly, I loved the emphasis on the women's service as Joheved gets older. It's common to have female characters in a more traditional setting long to be men but Joheved never seems to lament being a woman. She takes pride in her role and openly admires her learned grandmother Leah. There's also a real spirit of cooperation between the sisters. The story doesn't fall into the pitfall of pitting the smart sister against a pretty sister. They admire each others gifts and don't seem to focus so much on appearance (which fits with the modesty obligations). The Miriam I saw in "Joheved" made me excited to read the next book "Miriam" and get to know her as well.
Every author who attempts to write historical fiction runs up against the same problem: you weren't ever there. You have to rely on the historical record to gain an understanding of the time period you want to set your story.If you are writing about a period of history before extensive record keeping, you have to rely on a few primary sources and unless you are very good at languages, you are going to have to rely on secondary sources, which are only as good as the scholarship of the author and the editors.So what do you do? Get a feel for it and start writing. It's fiction, not a term paper, or thesis that has been defended or a book that has undergone peer review.This is fiction. That means that you make stuff up.There is a lot of stuff made up here. So much so that this Orthodox Jew couldn't keep reading. The life and customs of Orthodox Jews is not a secret, or so esoteric that only a few scholars in the world in every generation can practice them.(I read the first 100 pages and stopped.)A trip to Aish.com, for example, would give you a clearer understanding of the way Jews of this stripe live. Rashi didn't live so very differently than we do today, minus technology, of course. We still learn how to live Jewish lives from him by his commentary in Jewish texts. I'm assuming that he lived what he taught, explained and argued about for all his adult life. I don't believe that this was just an academic exercise and then he went out to the local pub to unwind.All that said, this is very good fiction. This is a great story and a great series about Jewish women in the middle ages. Maggie Anton has a gift for writing clear, interesting prose and well structured plots, inhabited by 3D characters. I wish I could write this clearly or plot this well. Kudos!Just in terms of history, it's historical fiction. Not fictional history. there is a big difference. In terms of Judaism, well, do what Hillel said to the potential convert: go and learn. Because Judaism, it's all in the details.
What do You think about Joheved (2005)?
I wanted to like this book, I really did. Anton seeks to bring to life a place, time and people who have been overlooked. She obviously did a lot of research, and boy does it show! The book is crammed full of information on things like 11th century agriculture, French politics, and Jewish law, and tries to faithfully render to the most minute detail (moss used for toilet paper! how to prune grape vines! a demon for every cough and bad thought! ) what it would have been like to grow up the daughter of Rashi. Every now and then there would be a glimmer of a good book – moments when the narrator shuts up long enough to take a breath and allows the characters to speak for themselves and have the “plot”, such as it is, move along with organic actions, conversations and thoughts.But mostly all we get is a plodding journey of daily Jewish life in 11th century Troyes, with Anton shoehorning in tons of awkward scenes where Character A will explain, in detail, to Character B everything from wine making to Purim to prostitution to leather tanning to local politics, with both the character explaining something and then Anton adding in extra explanations to make sure we get that wine is an important export product in France.What the book lacks is proper world building. You either have to throw reader and character straight into the deep end of the pool, or you do a slow layer by layer, build up, of what constitutes the world you are entering. Anton does neither. She grasps the reader firmly by the hand, as if expecting us to wander off like a toddler, and explains each and every detail, operation, feeling, event, and Thing of Important Historical Note, without a shred of trust that her reader can think for herself.It would have been better, plot wise, if Rashi and his family had been side characters and the story focused on an outsider who gradually learned about their world. The problem with being noted for scholastic achievement, as Rashi and his whole family were, means they spend the whole book being, well, scholarly, and having characters spend most of the time sitting and reading books does not an exciting plot make.I wanted to like this book, I really did.
—Kara
This book was an amazing read. I learned so much, which is what I love about good historical fiction. There were so many times in this book that I thought to myself, so that's why we do that (in terms of Jewish traditions). I did find myself wondering as I was reading if a non-Jewish reader would have difficulty understanding it. The author is a female Talmud scholar herself, which I find so impressive, and it lends credence to the series. I can't wait to read the next book. In fact, I think I might have to buy all three books - I can see myself wanting to highlight things and refer back to them in the future.
—Beth
Wtf!?!? Jews like to drink? This book was sure an interesting surprise to me that way. Hmmmm I grew up with an alcoholic father but imagine growing up with a Jewish wine-making father in medieval France. That's Rashi's daughters for you. The central theme here seems to be education for women... It was touchy subject at the time with many interpretations of what was appropriate and what was not. In the beginning of the book Joheved is already fluent in Hebrew and is able to read, study, and translate the torah: this makes her one of the most educated Jewish women in the city, and her father very liberal in his daughters' education however he goes even farther into controversy by teaching them the highly risqué Talmud generally considered to teach women lewdness and immorality (tiflut as they call it) threatening their femmine duties like bearing healthy sons. They study many different kuntres and Midrash texts unknown to women through out their education making them very vulnerable but genuine pioneers of women's rights and liberation, passing down a legacy all the way from medieval France. Talking about women's education in the early medieval period clearly brings another book I read this year to mind and that is Pope Joan. There are many similarities in these books centred on the censers and barriers to women having an education. Yet the differences are also a fascinating comparison, especially since the biggest difference is one is Jewish and the other is Christian. Joan defiantly had to struggle more for her education because unlike Joheved, her father, the church's canon was strongly averse to her learning, while Joheved rabbi father encouraged her. Both women characters had to deal with the conflict of romantic love and their education, Joheved was lucky to eventually find compatibility between the two, while Joan always had to choose either one or the other. The conation of the difference of religion really shades some history question here for me.... Either way the book, and especially with it's comparison to Pope Joan (which I suggest if you liked this book you pick it up too), is very thought-provoking and well worth reading.
—Feathzzz
