This week was marked by my mourning return to morning minyan, as it is coming up to the 7th yahrzeit of my father. Seven years is an important number in Jewish lore: Joseph predicted to Pharoah that his dreams meant Egypt would have seven years of feasts, followed by seven years of famine. In freedom, Jews were to let their land lay fallow every seventh year. Seven cycles of seven occasions a Jubilee Year, when the slaves are freed and land returned to the original owner.
As I listened to the prayers, and mumbled the Kaddish, I further mused upon my mesalliance with Judaism. The prayers said that Adonai's anger is but a moment, his love eternal. Yet, a moment for Adonai can be a lifetime for man--so this prayer offers cold comfort. The prayers constantly praise Adonai and all he does, while abasing the mere mortals. "Kodesh, kodesh, kodesh." All the angels stand around and admire him. It started to remind me of how people have to deal with powerful narcissists-constantly praising them, apologizing for their own clumsiness in the face of someone rare and exceptional. Which now reminds me of how Bilbo dealt with Smaug, the Magnificant, Destroyer of Worlds. Flatter the beast, get him off his guard, and he will show you his weak spot, so you can destroy him.
In Judaism, Adonai has to be constantly appeased, he is the crazily angry patriarch. One never knows what will set him off. Moses dying before he can enter the promise land was one consequence of pissing Adonai off. Abraham negotiating with Adonai to try and save Lot is another. The turning of Lot's wife (no identity known) into a pillar of salt is another. She looked back. She disobeyed. Too bad.
Throughout my years in Hebrew School, the merit of obedience is stressed. The consequences of curiosity are delineated. In fourth grade, Morah Oran told us the story of an American journalist stationed in Jerusalem with his wife and young son. He visits the Kotel, to observe. He sees supplicants sticking notes in the wall, so he goes over and reads a few. He goes home--his wife is hysterical--all of a sudden, their son spiked a high fever and they must take him to hospital. He rushes back to the wall, returns the letters, and sticks one of his one in, begging G-d not to punish his child for the father's deficits. He runs back home--miraculously, the son's temperature has returned to normal and he is fully recovered. "Really Morah Oran," I remember thinking. "C'mon. What kind of deity would curdle the kid to punish the parent? And that's the G-d who is supreme?" Sharon: an early skeptic. Which is not to say Morah Oran didn't have admirable traits. She was sexy (for Somerville). She wore colored stockings, which I stared at in dumb admiration. Most of our Hebrew school teachers were someone's mommy. As far as I knew, Morah Oran was nobody's mommy at that juncture. Not being a mommy gave one more options.
Still, bereshit baruchah: In the beginning. A beautiful start to the story, which then abruptly turns south. G-d created the heaven and the earth. G-d separates the light from the dark. G-d creates life. G-d creates Adam. G-d commands Adam not to eat from that one tree. Then, G-d makes a shidduch. He creates Eve from Adam's rib and commands her similar--do not eat from that one tree. But then, having created twice the number of people to one deity, things move in unexpected directions.
Eve has to be attracted to Adam. She has no choice. Indeed, she has been brought into the world inadequately prepared. She has never been placed face to face with choices. Adam is your companion. Don't eat the fruit of that Tree. She is the only female. Adam is the only male. They are alone among humans. But not among talking, walking beasts. Enter the serpent, with his honeyed words, wooing,encouraging Eve to eat thereof. Eve had never been courted. Nor has she ever been cozened.. And eat she does. And the scales drop from eyes, and she becomes conscious of her condition for the first time. She becomes lonely. There is no one like her in this universe. No other female to be her bestie. She tries to create a best friend for herself, but she is unable to create a companion, the way G-d meant her to be for Adam. She asks Adam to eat thereof. And he does. And when G-d comes round, he turns on Eve. Adam can't take responsibility for his flaws, his weasel nature, his decision not to obey G-d. So G-d exiles them both and curses Eve. Eve was created to be a companion to Adam--but no one was created to be a companion to Eve.
She was curious. Knowledge brings loneliness. N:ow she knows--her helpmate is a weasel. The serpent no longer talks to her. She has to leave the only home she has known. Life becomes increasingly brutal. Her hunter son kills her farmer son. We know now that women never recover from the murder of a child. She has more children, because she has no choices. She is forced to stay with Adam, the man who is not a companion.
After this, her voice is muted, as are most of the women in the Bible. Lot's wife--nameless. Sarah--sidelined until she conceives Isaac. And then obedient to Abraham's whims and Abraham's claims of G-d given directives. Rebecca, celebrated for her obedience. And interestingly enough, the one who proves you have to watch out for the quiet ones. She connived with Jacob to trick Isaac. Apparently, Isaac was too little of a companion compared to the younger son. Jacob was an Oedipal winner, even before Roth's Portnoy complained.
Rachel and Leah are personality less. All we know is that Leah was the less desired by Jacob. Dinah is tricked by a neighboring tribal boy and raped for her troubles. "Keep to your own kind." Though this rule is not applied to Moses, who married and sired his tribe with the Midianites. The double standard is not new to our time.
Miriam, celebrated for saving Moses' life in infancy.
Men are the doers, women are the vessels.
Eve had something. G-d crushed her and cursed her for that.
That's the problems with all we who are utterly human--you set us up and you can't control what happens next. Even if you are G-d.
What do women want? We want the choosing. As did Eve. That is the lesson from the Wife of Bath's Tale. She tells a classic story of a knight errant, who went awry and found himself facing death. An ugly old hag, breath reeking of onions, face speckled by warts, saves him. But at a price--he has to marry her. He agrees, dreading it of course. To his surprise, that night, a gorgeous nubile maiden approaches him. His wife. She was cursed by a witch too. Her fate--she is gorgeous at night, hideous by dawn. The damsel gives the knight a choice--you can have me like this every night. But only you will see me this way. In the daytime, in front of your friends, I will become hideous. Or, I can be gorgeous during the day, when all can behold me, but like you saw me before at night, to take in bed. What is your choice, my love?
He almost faints. It is too much, all that has happened. He says, "Truly, it is too much....you decide." Poof--just like that, the curse on his bride is lifted. She will be gorgeous always. For she had been cursed before by a witch, to never take her true form until a man answered this riddle: What do women want? For women want the choosing. That is the answer to the riddle of the Freud--what do women want?
And men are cursed for an eternity, for they never learn the simple lesson embedded in the Wife of Bath's Tale.
And lastly, to be a Jew is more complex then to believe or not believe. I can be angry at G-d. I can be angry at the men who created Torah. I can be an angry Jew. But I am still a Jew. OPen your doors to the poor. Find a teacher. Obtain a friend. Do not get overly involved in the affairs of government. Do not despair of retribution.