For years, I have considered this my favorite book of fiction. Potok tells the story of a boy torn between his God-given talent as an artist and his strict, God-centric Jewish upbringing. I decided to read it again recently. This time around, I thoroughly enjoyed it, but was less impressed. I think the difference was more a matter of where I am in my life than the skill of Potok. I would recommend this book to anyone, especially to anyone who wants to explore the relationship between faith and occupation. ( )

You really get into the mind of the character and understand the world thru his eyes. However, I didn't feel that I grew spiritually from any of his insights - it lacked any real depth. The struggle between father and son was well done. ( )

A book I finished practically in a sitting, My Name Is Asher Lev is best described as "strangely compelling". I use those words because, in a way, you know exactly what is going to happen. You have the setting: Brooklyn circa 1950s-1960s. You have the main characters: a Jewish boy with an incredible talent at drawing and painting (Asher), the spiritual leader of the fictional "Ladover" Jewish community (the Rebbe), the boy's father (who is extremely religious and works for the Rebbe), the boy's mother (who is trapped between her husband and her son), and Jacob Cahn: a consecrated artist, teacher and inspiration to the boy. You even have the most important single event of the book - the painting of the Brooklyn Crucifixions - offered to you as an appetizer right there on the first page! "My name is Asher Lev, the Asher Lev, about whom you have read in newspapers and magazines, about whom you talk so much at your dinner affairs and cocktail parties, the notorious and legendary Lev of the Brooklyn Crucifixion." . You also have the main conflict of the story presented immediately after: "I am an observant Jew. Yes, of course, observant Jews do not paint crucifixions, As a matter of fact, observant Jews do not paint at all - in the way that I am painting." So you pretty much know what's going to happen, right? You've seen it all before, one's battle to reconcile his needs, desires and quest for happiness with his religious beliefs, the clash between the forward-thinking pioneer and his baffled, close-minded peers, the conflict between the individual and the community. It's not new. So why is it you feel this compelling urge to just keep. on. reading. ? When writers and playwrights first started making use of the findings of psychology in order to give their characters more depth, Strindberg accurately observed that this was indeed what the modern public demanded: "what interests people most nowadays is the psychological action; our inveterately curious souls are no longer content to see a thing happen; we want to see how it happens.” And this is exactly the case with Asher Lev: we know mostly what is going to happen, but we want to see how and most importantly why it happens.

Another thing about the novel is that the whole thing was impeccably done: the characters believing, the historical and religious aspects fascinating, the drama not overdone. And most impressively of all, Asher's struggles as an artist, his descriptions of the drawing process and his attempts to understand, study and replicate famous artists, paintings and movements, all sounded realistic, true. So true in fact that I found I subconsciously kept trying to find flaws within Asher's personality. Potok's attempt to make Asher think, behave and talk not like a writer - not like Potok himself - but like a painter was truly flawless. As it turns out, there was a reason for this. Potok is an artist as well and he has actually painted one of the two Brooklyn Crucifixions described in the book! If I'd known this as well as the fact that Potok considers Asher Lev to be the one character that most resembles himself, I might've not marveled so much at how real the character of Lev was, how real his fears, his worries, his selfishness, his talent, his inner conflicts. I also found out after finishing the novel that Potok was (or had been) a Rebbe in real life. This was eye-opening: imagine taking the main conflicting forces of the book, represented by the Rebbe (and one could say the father) on one side and Asher on the other and fusing the two sides into the character of Chaim Potok himself! It is no wonder the man has created such a moving, realistic and, yes, strangely compelling book. ( )

The narrator of this novel is an artist and not a wordsmith. The story seems simple and bare ('Hasidism vs art') because there's only so much the narrator can express in words. Potok makes the story larger by craft and construction.

Both the mother and father have inherited a vocation. The mother has inherited her brother's vocation; the father, his father's. These vocations are 'biological' urges. The narrator has also inherited a vocation, but it's his misfortune to have inherited one that's incompatible with his community.

From the three characters and their vocations, Potok constructs something wonderful. The father pursues his vocation within the community; the mother pursues hers outside, but with no conflict; the narrator's vocation simply pushes him out of the community altogether. The mother is therefore positioned midway between father and son, and she's anxious for both. And for both, we see her anxiously waiting by the window, again and again. This is the figure that inspires the narrator's great painting and the book's finish.

That's the basic construction, and it's very good. It's a more interesting construction than found in Philip Roth's The Ghost Writer, where the artist just uses the Jewish community as fuel for his books (though the The Ghost Writer is very good in other ways). The occasional reviewer of this book doubts whether art is incompatible with Hasidism, but what we have in this book is Potok's opinion, and if it's an eccentric opinion, does it really matter? The story is constructed and told so beautifully.

Save Yourself: Here is my recommendation. DON'T read this book. No, it's not horrible and I didn't cringe when I read it. But neither did I walk away a changed man. The character of Asher is so cold, static, and most importantly immature. The choice Asher makes in the end is in my own opinion the right one of course (especially since religion was the alternative and i hate religion, another factor that added to the insipidity of this book). Yet after being exposed to Asher's thoughts throughout the book, I'm not convinced his ultimate decision was righteous.

I'm tempted to just say, "read the book so you can see what I mean!!!1" but alas, no. You will make the right decision and you will not read this book. Potok's writing is fluid and borderline enjoyable but this does not save the novel from a 1-star rating. Again, the concept behind the book was alright but the deliver, in terms of plot structure and character development, was very unsatisfying for me.

My Name Is Asher Lev: A big 1 out of 5 stars.