So. The Red Tent has drawn me out from under the fig tree where I've been lurking for lo, these past couple years. Hello, everyone! I feel I should apologize for eavesdropping for so long without so much as supporting anyone in email.

Anyways. I'm in this lovely peaceful sated place right now, having just finished Diamant's Midrash. I wasn't sure I would like it when I began, but I, um, did.

I'm reminded of The Mists of Avalon, by Marion Zimmer Bradley, which took a similarly differing slant on the King Arthur legends. In the end, though, I disliked (actually, despised might not be too strong a word) Mists because of the male-bashing Raquel was asking after (Mal. Bad. In the Latin), and the fact that in the end, I felt that the main character (was it Morgaine?) had made a lot of bad/evil decisions that I couldn't resonate with. Dinah, on the other hand, was someone I consistently enjoyed being with. In her anger, in her grief and in her contentment, she was simply herself, and I loved her for it. The bashing of Laban in The Red Tent seemed entirely consistent with the biblical portrayal of him.

I love that the story began with Dinah's mothers as young women and ended after Dinah's death, and that every moment in between was fully realized. The one moment that took me out of the story bears mentioning simply for its triviality: When Shalem first looked upon Dinah and there was an awkward moment, he coughed into his hand. It seemed to me a very modern, Western gesture (though why I should think so I have no idea), but as the only moment that jolted my imagination out of the world of the Middle East some 4,000 years ago, well, kudos to Anita Diamant.

I was taken aback a bit by the frequent tweakings of the biblical narrative, such as the shading down of Jacob's 14 years of service to Laban as bride-price for both Rachel and Leah, and the dismissal of Joseph's rejection of Potiphar's wife, but in the end, although I consider myself a Bible-believing Born-again, I find I didn't mind the tweaks. They fit with my understanding of Genesis as collected oral history. In fact, I find myself believing Dinah/Diamant's story on such a deep level that I want it to be true, even if it (probably, strictly) isn't.

edited to resolve those pesky itals

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Hi Mark Eddy, and welcome out from the shadows of lurk.

The bashing of Laban in The Red Tent seemed entirely consistent with the biblical portrayal of him.

Yeah, he comes across as pretty much a selfish oaf in The Bible, too. I have to say I appreciate the irony where Jacob is concerned. The subbing in Leah for Rachel is a pretty direct parallel to Jacob dressing up in animal skins, and fooling his blind father into bestowing the blessing Isaac intended to give to Esau.

In fact, I find myself believing Dinah/Diamant's story on such a deep level that I want it to be true, even if it (probably, strictly) isn't.

I find an awful lot of it fairly likely. Where the so-called rape is concerned, I find it unlikely (even from the biblical account) that episode would fit in with the way we define "rape" today. It is more of a case of consent not then and there, belonging to the woman in the first place. What I find least likely to have happened is that Dinah conceived from her time with Shechem. I guess I think this way, because had there been a conception, I would have expected any baby born to be mentioned in Genesis 46, when Jacob's descendants are totaled.

I cried when I finished this book. Even though I was relieved Dinah's long struggle was over, I didn't want to stop hearing her voice.

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I have to say I appreciate the irony where Jacob is concerned.

I had never thought of the parallel between Jacob & Esau and Rachel & Leah. That's kind of cool.

What I find least likely to have happened is that Dinah conceived from her time with Shechem.

I thought Diamant did a good job of basically hiding Bar-Shalem's birth from Jacob's clan. Joseph alone knew of his existence, and I can pretty easily fan-wank his not telling anyone.

What I find provocative is the similarity between the name Re-Mose and Moses. I don't know what to do with the connection, but I want to keep reading through the next four hundred years of Israel's history.

I cried when I finished this book.

The part that pulled a sob from my throat was when Dinah unburdened herself to Meryt. Meryt's response:

"Dear one," she said, putting my hand to her cheek, "I am so honored to be the vessel into which you pour this story of pain and strength. For all these years no daughter could have made me happier or more proud than you. Now that I now who you are and what life has cost you, I am in awe that I number you among my beloved."

Meryt is me.

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I finished my re-read of The Red Tent last night.

I liked how fluid the ideas were about religion and the god(s). That the concept of the God of Jacob as being the only one -- was mostly just his family's thing and nobody took much notice of it. And that the women were busy doing their own thing completely separately from the men. Also, the world seemed both so huge and unknown and so full of possibility and also so small and familiar. All these people living in what weren't even villages who are the basis for something so huge.

And what Mark Eddy said about Re-Mose and Moses. And of course, Moses is a common Egyptian name -- so it's one of those things that seems significant but is probably coincidental. Except, of course, that Moses has to have been a descendent of Jacob, right? (My Old Testament knowledge is pretty weak.)

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IIRC, Moses was descended from Jacob's son Levi.

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So, Levi was good for something, right?

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I liked how fluid the ideas were about religion and the god(s). That the concept of the God of Jacob as being the only one -- was mostly just his family's thing and nobody took much notice of it.

It's nice to have that insight. Jacob is only two generations after G-d's covenant with Abraham. As there's one point in the Genesis narrative (possibly right after the brothers slaughtered the men of Shechem's town), when Jacob has his family move on, he makes them leave their idols and earrings, etc., behind, and buries them under a tree (the idols, at least).

IIRC, Moses was descended from Jacob's son Levi.

Yes, both of Moses' parents were from the house of Levi. I think, in both Jewish and Christian canon, more attention is paid to Judah's line in the geneologies, because Judah is a direct ancestor of King David, and David's line is put forth as the messianic line.

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Well I'm 2/3 through, hopefully will finish soon and have much to say.

So, Levi was good for something, right?

Heh. Remember, the Levi of The Red Tent is only loosely based on the real Levi. Not the same person.

Yes, both of Moses' parents were from the house of Levi. I think, in both Jewish and Christian canon, more attention is paid to Judah's line in the geneologies, because Judah is a direct ancestor of King David, and David's line is put forth as the messianic line.

Nowadays, in Judaism, more attention is paid to descendents of the tribe of Levi than any other tribe.

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One of the things I appreciated about The Red Tent was how those who worshiped idols or goddesses were not presented as inherently better or worse than worshipers of the one god, El. Rebecca's treatment of Tabea, for example, although it did not hold a candle to the atrocity carried out by Simon and Levi, resulted in the loss of Dinah's first true friend. Rebecca was portrayed as haughty and arrogant, which was a nice balance to the traditional rendering (at least in modern fiction) of Isaac as psychically (?) under Abraham's knife, as if he's perpetually in fear that his father's god return to claim him.

I liked the water imagery. Too often water is used as anvilly shorthand for birth, death and rebirth. Here it is much more elemental. Seen from the perspective of a desert-dwelling nomad, the notion of water as magical and sacred carries a lot more weight. The wonder she experienced at seeing so much water in one place, the power of it and its ability to lift one up, the extravagence of an entire river of water, gave me a new appreciation for something so pervasive I rarely give it a thought.

When Dinah lost her footing in the Euphrates and Judah (who, as Topic!Cindy pointed out, carried the messianic line) pulled her safely to the farther side, there was certainly an element of baptism, but her real baptism was much more terrifying and horrible, carrying the Christian imagery of being washed in the blood of the beloved.

"Of course it's the blood. Blood is life. It's always the blood." </spike>

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I'm still trying to finish the book. I'm still impressed wtih the writing, and Dinah does seem real. I liked that her fantasy of Rebecca immediately making her the favorite didn't pan out, which is what a young girl would do (the fantasy).

What's getting in the way of my really enjoying the book is the sense I'm havng that this is supposed to be an "important" book, telling the tale of how the women's gods are being subjugated by patriarchal monotheism. Yes, Laban worshiped them sincerely, but the emphasis I'm seeing is that this is primarily women's spirituality, and that is under attack.

The rituals are interesting. I'm curious as to waht Diamant is using as the source material for the worship of Inanna. I'm familiar wtih the various rituals around a girl's first period, but the bit with the frog idol was unfamiliar.

I wasn't familiar with Dinah's story in scripture, but I'm glad I know the story. Otherwise, I admit, I'd have given up on the story before now, because I'm still waiting for something to really happen. Yes, there have been lots of events, but they're fairly standard events given the milieu. I still have no sense that Dinah is somehow remarkable, that she has a tale that, out of all the others around her, is worth telling or that her insights are more penetrating than others. I'm finding the intereaction between Leah and Rachel much more interesting, two women who both have the sincere love of their husband but in such different ways.

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