It's mid-Tammuz. You're recuperating (Boruch Hashem, of
course) from marrying off a son/daughter or from a year's
teaching, or from professional babycaring. Whatever. It's
vacation and...
You're itching for a fat book, say, something like 544 pages.
In English, though if you're desperate, you'd settle for
something in Hebrew, too, if it's not too heavy. [Warning,
this book may be in such great demand that you'll have to
settle for the Hebrew, "Meirutz Latzameret." Perhaps
you can read it simultaneously with your children and discuss
it! I'm just warning you and the publisher.]
You want something with action, plot, interesting characters,
denouement, insight, surprises around the corner, lots to
keep your interest focused. For your conscience' sake --
since you may be reading this during the long Nine Days --
you want something with a message, something to take with you
after page 544.
Got it! Race to the Top.
Now, I'm not the reader I used to be, six books a week from
Friday to Friday when I still went to the public library,
half a century ago. I may average one a month these days. But
let me tell you, I gobbled up Race to the Top in about
two days. It was a race to the end, with my breath held.
Knowing that I would have to justify the pleasure by a review
for YATED, I tried to read critically, and here is what I've
come up with.
To begin with, the translation is excellent, which makes for
very comfortable reading. There are enough subplots to
sustain even the attention of someone at the end of a
grueling year, teacher or student, with issues that are very
relevant to our times. The writer does not talk down to her
audience yet this book is not a heavyweight.
One of the main subthemes involves biased reporting, an issue
that we can relate to always, as active listeners and talkers
in our daily lives. As a journalist, I was particularly
impressed by the sage hashkofa of one of the rabbis in
the book who is consulted regarding a series of non-
complimentary articles about the Orthodox community written
by a secular reporter. One would expect an up-in- arms
attitude of showing the world the truth about chareidi
Jews as opposed to a terribly falsified view. But the rabbi
realisticially argues that it is not worth the battle with
the secular public. They will continue to believe what they
wish to believe and to see things out of context.
As one would expect, the anti-hero(ine) eventually turns
baalas tshuva herself, but the process is surprising,
realistic and convincing. The dialogue throughout is rich,
quick-paced, interesting. One glimpses into the psyche of a
large variety of people, of different ages, outlooks and
walks of life, from our `reporter's doctor-mother, the people
in a chareidi neighborhood, and the young girl who is
employed by a novice `baalas tshuva' (without the
mother's knowledge) for cleaning help. There are conflicts
galore, like the Bais Yaakov teacher of this girl dealing
with a whole classful of difficult students, her mother
dealing with a sick child and with the growing estrangement
of this teenage daughter. Dealt with on an adult level are
medical and journalistic ethics, Jewish ethics, social and
work ethics.
Some astute readers will be quick to... Ooops.
You may be searching for the relevance to a reader like
yourself, as I did for many chapters, but patience. The
message is there, very well put, and real to contemporary
life. As the cover notes, Race to the Top is an
absorbing drama where truth and faith battle the forces of
evil." Very much so -- on an international and national
level, and at the home level, where an impressionable Bais
Yaakov student is almost lured into kibbutz life.
There are flashbacks to the Holocaust that have repercussions
in the character development of one of the key figures. We
gain insight in why a mother can be so devoted to her
profession, yet so cold to the children she loves so dearly.
We follow other important characters and gain insight in the
inner strengths that help them make the right decisions, even
at the expense of flourishing careers. We meet many
fascinating people, from our world and the secular one, and
shudder, commiserate, admire, tremble -- in short, run
through a wide gamut of emotions and ideas as we read this
fascinating book.
Try this excerpt for mood and size. It concerns Ronny, the
doctor's son, a rather minor character, who ends up in
India.
From CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN:
"The light," the Indian said, "surrounds life." He was
sitting on the mat, staring at the leaf in his hand. He was
speaking as though to himself.
Ronny could not understand him. There was something about
Sanjay that made it hard to get close to him.
Sanjay waved the leaf in front of him. "The leaf is dead," he
said. "It has no life. Do you see?"
"No, I don't see," Ronny said. "The leaf is green. It's moist
and fresh."
"You don't see," said the Indian, "because you never saw it
when it was on the tree. Then it was much stronger, and it
was straight. It was vigorous, and filled with life. Now,
though it is still green, it is soft and weak. Soon, it will
not be green anymore. The light surrounding it has
disappeared."
"Is the light its vital force, its life force?" asked Ronny,
trying to understand.
"No." The copper face looked sternly at him. "The light is
surrounding the leaf, surrounding the tree, surrounding the
man."
Ronny is even more bewildered when the Indian suddenly
says,
"You have nothing to look for here."
"Why?" asked Ronny...
"Your light is different."
An interesting passage that is totally different from the
pace and setting of a book on journalism. A book that is sure
to appeal to many tastes and to grip the reader until its
544th page!
As a reviewer, I guess I should mention that one thing that
disturbed me, so minor, that most readers couldn't care less.
It was the use of this very phrase, which the translator
misues, at least half a dozen times, and says, "Could care
less." Well, I care more, and would like to see this
corrected in future reprints, and I am sure that they will be
soon in coming!
Thank you, Jerusalem Publications! What's next?
