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Overview
Winner of the 1998 National Jewish Book Award"An astonishing fusion of learning and psychic intensity; its poignance and lucidity should be an authentic benefit to readers, Jewish and gentile." --The New York Times Book Review
Children have obligations to their parents: the Talmud says "one must honor him in life and one must honor him in death." Leon Wieseltier, a diligent but doubting son, recites the Jewish prayer of mourning at his father's grave, and then embarks on the traditional year of saying the kaddish daily.
Wieseltier's highly acclaimed Kaddish is the spiritual and thoughtful journal of one of America's most brilliant intellectuals. Driven to explore th origins of the kaddish, from the ancient legend of a wayeard ghost to a 17th-century Ukranian pogrom, he offers as well a mourner's response to the questions of fate, freedom, and faith stirred up in death's wake. Lyric, learned, and deeply moving, Kaddish is suffused with love: a son's embracing of the traditon bequethed to him by his father, a scholar's savoring of its beauty, and a writer's revealing it, proudly unadorned, to the reader.
Synopsis
This is New Republic literary editor Leon Wieseltier's powerful, luminous, and thought-provoking account of the year following his father's death and the life-altering effects it wrought. Informed by Wieseltier's intellectual rigor and passion for learning, this wide-ranging spiritual autobiography explores the history and philosophy of the Jewish rituals surrounding death as it charts the course of the author's journey through grief. This is a wise and beautiful book about mourning and metaphysics, about fathers and sons, and about what it means to be Jewish.
The New Yorker - Edward Hirsch
A brilliant book...Wieseltier has an aphoristic intelligence, and in a sense he is taking his place in a line of philosophers which runs from Pascal to Nietzche and on to E.M. Cioran. As this 'diligent and doubting son' repeats phrases from the kaddish like a mantra, an ancient magnificence stirs in the text and his brokenheartedness is balanced by his exhiliration. 'He taught me to be here,' he writes of his father,' 'and here I am.'
Editorials
Amy E. Schwartz
...[A]s close to the feel of studying Talmud as the modern layperson without extensive Jewish education is likely to get. βWQ: The Wilson QuarterlyDavid Stern
...[A]stonishing...meticulously learned yet intensely personal...As he pursues [the book's] questions, Mr. Wieseltier's search for the meaning of the Kaddish becomes a meditation on tradition itself. βThe New York TimesSusan Jacoby
Kaddish inspires a sense of awe at the sheer magnitude, depth and wisdom of a tradition that attempts to provide both a practical framework and a moral explanation for the deepest and most ungovernable human impulses. βNewsdayJacob Neusner
I cannot point to another piece of writing in the English language that accomplishes within -- and for -- Judaism what Wieseltier has here achieved. His book is simply a masterpiece. -- National ReviewEugene Goodheart
Kaddish is...the extended spiritual exercise of a prodigal son. 'Years ago, when I stopped praying, the disappearance of the religious structure seemed to bring with it the promise of possibility...the adventure of self-creation.' -- The Washington PostNessa Rapoport
Groundbreaking in American letters...This is a narrative suffused with love: a man's love for the tradition bequeathed him by his father and shared with his mother and sister, a man's savoring of the beauty he was taught to uncover and his revealing it proudly, unadorned, to us.β Los Angeles Times Book Review
Edward Hirsch
A brilliant book...Wieseltier has an aphoristic intelligence, and in a sense he is taking his place in a line of philosophers which runs from Pascal to Nietzche and on to E.M. Cioran. As this 'diligent and doubting son' repeats phrases from the kaddish like a mantra, an ancient magnificence stirs in the text and his brokenheartedness is balanced by his exhiliration. 'He taught me to be here,' he writes of his father,' 'and here I am.'β The New Yorker