I loved this book. The imagery stayed with me a long time. One day I went to the hardware store and saw Chassidic man with red hair and payos and I thought I had gone to Brooklyn c. 1950.

I've heard good things about Potok's "Chosen" and it sounds like that's his book that most people have read. I enjoyed his style here and I suspect I'll pick up The Chosen to read later.

Content/Theme
Before commenting on anything else, I need to comment on the theme and content of the book.

This book is deeply entrenched in the Jewish culture and has many references that are likely very commonplace to those in the Jewish culture, but were very foreign to me. I got the general meaning of most things from context, but I still have a long list of terms, phrases and actions to look up and better understand.

This book also has a lot of great detail about the art world. This is another realm in which I am an inexperienced traveler. I had a better understanding of art than Judaism, but there were still numerous names, periods, phrases and theories that I didn't understand directly.

One suggestion that I would make which added huge depth to me, is to Google the names of the various paintings/sculpures/artists that are referenced and that Asher studies intently. Some are more important than others, but just seeing what it is he's seeing and experiencing brought a huge new depth to the book.

Characters
Obviously, Asher is the main character. He is a very deep character with a ton of internal conflict and a lot of passion which he doesn't understand or know fully how to direct. His development throughout the novel was very subtle. I found it very interesting that he was portrayed largely as a pawn in his own life. A few times, he tells his father that he "can't control it", meaning his art. In much of the "dialog" that happens between Asher and most characters, he is largely a character who isn't directing the actions of his world. He is often silent and lets others make their assumptions and their decisions. And yet, through that silence, he imposes his will on those who are closest to him.

Asher's parents are also very lucid characters. Asher's mother is passionate and very torn between her devotion to her husband and to her son. The final climactic work of Asher truly captures his mother's character. His father was also very well portrayed. I found myself frustrated with him at times but also sympathizing with him. There was a section where Asher tries to explain art to his father, going into the technical artistic terms and phrases. That scene was a very profound description of the huge disparity between their two worlds.

The other characters in the book were largely there as tools either for Asher's own development or for exploring the gap between Asher's two worlds, art and Judaism.

Plot/Writing/Pacing
There were times that I would have liked the story to pick up the pace a bit. The descriptions were great (very artistic) and the depth that the scenes gave to Asher and his family and friends was huge. I'm not sure what scenes I would have cut or tightened up, but there were times that I would to have liked it to speed up a little.

The plot itself was intense. The novel was divided into "books" outlining different parts in Asher's life and development. Each "book" built on those before it and none of the sections came to a final "conclusion" or at least to a "happy ending." Even though I would not like to see them split into stand alone books, looking back, I see that as a possibility. They each had their own rising action, climax, and hint of resolution. And together through the course of the novel, they provided an overall rising action, with the final book having the greatest climax before the final "resolution."

Overall
Even though this book focussed on conflict between art and Judaism, it goes much deeper than that dynamic. I found myself relating many times to things that Asher would say or think. He was conflicted between his religious heritage and the "carnal" world. He was conflicted between respecting his parents and becoming his own person. He was conflicted between Tradition and Growth. He was conflicted between two things that were both "good." So much of his character development embodies principles that apply to us all.

The story and the writing was very interesting and thought provoking. I enjoyed reading it. The final climax made my soul churn as I realized there was no "happy" way for things to resolve. I'm not one to beg for happy endings, but after getting so attached to Asher, I had hoped that things would turn out better. Still (not to spoil the end), things didn't end up as grim as they could have done. I believe Potok wrote a second book about Asher Lev. I may have to read that as well to see what becomes of him beyond this novel.

The reading isn't "heavy", but the tone of the book is heavy. But Definitely Recommended.

****
4 Stars ( )

Chaim Potok has remained one of my favorite authors since I read his book The Chosen at Moody Bible Institute over a decade ago. Potok writes about ultra orthodox Jews. If that sounds to you like it would be out of place at an ultra dispensational Bible college, well I’ll just say it is not so much of a disconnect as you might think. And the plots Chaim Potok develops translate well from Hasidic Jew to Evangelical Christian.

Potok’s novels follow a consistent formula. A child is born to ultra orthodox Jewish parents. The child is a genius. The child’s giftedness causes trouble for his family and community. The child pushes the boundaries of his tradition, but without renouncing it. The child grows up and lives with this tension, not having reconciled it but existing nonetheless. My Name Is Asher Lev is no different than the rest. Asher Lev’s gift is art. He is a painter. For several reasons, though, I did not like this book as much as the others.

My first gripe is a nitpick. Potok’s writing style often feels dark, mysterious, and foreboding. His characters develop into trouble - into inevitable conflict with their Jewish tradition, their community, and their own souls. Potok takes whole books to grow his characters up. It’s subtle. You have to keep reading, and reading. In My Name Is Asher Lev he too quickly abandons his style toward the end. Asher’s parents change their attitude too much, too quickly. The subtlety disappears too close to the climax when you know that there would be conflict between Asher and his Jewish community. It feels cheap. And when Asher’s art eventually hurts them, it’s so set up that it lacks power.

My larger complaint, however, is with message. I do not agree with Ashher Lev’s understanding of making art.

Asher and his father both have grieved his mother over the years, causing her anguish and pain. Ultimately as he matures as an artist he feels compelled to paint her pain. And he searches within his experience and his Jewish tradition to find a context to paint his mother and show her grief. Nothing comes to him. And so he reaches outside of his tradition and paints his mother in a crucifix. “There is nothing in the Jewish tradition that could have served me as an aesthetic mold for such a painting. I had to go to - I had to use a...” He paints his mother being crucified because he feels that is the only artistic context that can properly express her grief. And he paints the painting knowing how much it will hurt his mother and father and his community.

Perhaps for ultra orthodox Jews there is no pre-existing artistic mold to paint grief. They do not paint. And therefore there are no paintings in museums painted by ultra orthodox Jews showing grief. While the ultra orthodox Jewish tradition has many sources of pain and suffering, it does not have paintings to match. But I’m not sure. By the time Asher paints his Brooklyn Crucifixion II it is the 1960s. Have there not been any orthodox Jews, or even non-orthodox but practicing Jews, who have painted in the 1950s and 1960s? Any who have created an aesthetic context for further paintings, using perhaps the holocaust? or the horrors of Stalin’s persecution of Jews? I’m not an art historian and not going to take the time to find out if there were no other Jewish artistic expressions of grief. Even if there were not, could Asher not have pulled from his personal story? He painted his ancient ancestor forever tromping through the woods. Could he not have replaced his ancient ancestor with his mother? It’s hard to imagine that the crucifix was the only source he could responsibly use.

And that brings me to a second criticism of the book. The responsible use of art (or anything symbolic). Asher wants to paint art that expresses truth. That, I believe, is a worthy vocation. Asher’s father cannot understand his son’s gift and call. But I agree that such gifts exist and should be pursued. Furthermore, Asher believes that in his quest to paint he will at times hurt people that he loves. That, too, I think is right. The most gifted people always cause some pain, not the least because they do wonderful things outside the comprehension of average people, people who in their ignorance are offended. But there are limits. In this I agree with Asher’s mother and with the Rebbe.

If an artist’s creation is only personal, it is wrong. Asher hints that his painting served himself and God. That, too, it seems to me is wrong. Asher painted a crucifix. Jesus said that the entire Jewish law is summed up in this, love your God and love your neighbor. I agree with Jesus. We must with all our ability do both at all times. Serving only God or serving only neighbor is not the work of Jew or Christian. Practicing Jews and Christians must always serve both God and neighbor. As the Anglican Prayer Book says about vocation, “Deliver us in our various occupations from the service of self alone, that we may do the work you give us to do in truth and beauty and for the common good; for the sake of him who came among us as one who serves, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord.”

Potok is right, I think, to show how Asher’s vocation is worthy of pursuit. He is right to show the unfortunate conflict that develops when god-given vocations conflict with human tradition. He is right to question human tradition and ask if it is not better to make room for God’s mysteries working themselves out through people. The Rebbe offers the correct perspective, I think, in his final greeting to Asher, “You have crossed a boundary. I cannot help you. You are alone now. I give you my blessings.” ( )

Brilliant. Loved this book, the struggle of the artist ot be true to himself. He hurt all those who loved him but could not be a whore. Wondeerful metaphors and references to the eyes, windows, blinds and looking out ( )

Asher Lev introduces himself in the opening lines of his story. He is an observant Jew, he is the talk of the town following the exhibiting of his painting Brooklyn Crucifixion – not only do observant Jews not paint crucifixions, they do not paint at all – he is viewed as a traitor.

The still very young Asher Lev then begins to recount his life that lead to this predicament. He starts from when he was about four years old, an ordinary Brooklyn lad the only son born to a scholarly Hasidic family. But it is soon evident that he has a remarkable talent fro drawing. The story follows the difficult realisation of the talent which leads him to great critical acclaim, but ostracism from is family and home.

Having truly enjoyed Chaim Potok’s The Chosen and its sequel The Promise I immediately sought out more of his writing. I was not disappointed; this is a beautiful story, Asher is a fine boy who loves his family and respects his elders, but he cannot deny what is inside him, his need to create. The characters in the story are sincere and caring, even if they do want different things for Asher Lev. The writing is excellent, Chaim Potok has a very appealing style, and I especially like the manner in which Asher relates his conversations. There is sequel which having enjoyed this so much this I am compelled to read.
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