The Marrying of Chani Kaufman
Eve Harris
Language: English
Pages: 384
ISBN: 0802122736
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
London, 2008. Chani Kaufman is a nineteen-year-old woman, betrothed to Baruch Levy, a young man whom she has seen only four times before their wedding day. The novel begins with Chani standing “like a pillar of salt,” wearing a wedding dress that has been passed between members of her family and has the yellowed underarms and rows of alteration stitches to prove it. All of the cups of cold coffee and small talk with men referred to Chani’s parents have led up to this moment. But the happiness Chani and Baruch feel is more than counterbalanced by their anxiety: about the realities of married life; about whether they will be able to have fewer children than Chani’s mother, who has eight daughters; and, most frighteningly, about the unknown, unspeakable secrets of the wedding night. As the book moves back to tell the story of Chani and Baruch’s unusual courtship, it throws into focus a very different couple: Rabbi Chaim Zilberman and his wife, Rebbetzin Rivka Zilberman. As Chani and Baruch prepare for a shared lifetime, Chaim and Rivka struggle to keep their marriage alive—and all four, together with the rest of the community, face difficult decisions about the place of faith and family life in the contemporary world.
ran through her as she headed for the Tube and into town. On her return, she laid out all her purchases on the hotel bed. The Rebbetzin pulled on her new jeans, enjoying the strangely familiar roughness of denim against skin. The jumper was soft and its collar covered her collarbones, which she was still reticent to expose. She regarded her reflection and on impulse, yanked at her wig and, ignoring the pain, sent the grips flying. She shook out her hair. It fell in soft waves over her
or just cake and Chani dared not ask. ‘I think – I can manage a speech – ’ Chani strained to be heard over the clamour. The noise died down the moment she spoke. ‘As you know, I’m quite fond of speaking . . .’ ‘Noooo? Really?’ Someone quipped at the back. ‘Thank you, Naomi – if I may continue . . . well, it’s been quite a journey as you know, it took a while to find the right hossen – but er, here I am and thanks to HaShem and my parents – I’ll be a good wife in two days – ’ ‘Amen! But good?
screens and lurid colours of a world which she desperately wanted to plunge into. Thick, black marker pens violated Shakespeare’s texts. Brand new copies of Julius Caesar had been desecrated, ugly inky patches hiding the ‘inappropriate language’ beneath. In art, her favourite subject, Gauguin’s nudes had been skilfully doctored. Da Vinci’s drawings looked like a patchwork quilt. Buttocks, breasts and genitalia had been covered over with white labels. Once, she was caught picking off a sticker
ears. Beneath his mattress lay the novels he was banned from reading – Dickens, Chandler, Orwell – but they were no longer enough. He felt controlled – there was no release, no relief. One night, he took the Tube home after a lesson. A woman sat opposite him. She was huge. Her shirt was unbuttoned revealing two orbs of sunburnt flesh. Averting his eyes, he glanced at the advert above her head. But the advert showed a nubile girl in a bikini. He did not know where to look. He muttered a prayer
tall, thought Chani. Perhaps a little too tall. It was like standing under the shade of a thin, shaggy palm tree. She eyed the trio of pimples that clung to his jaw-line like limpets on a mossy rock. Perhaps if he grew his beard it may provide camouflage. She smiled up at him, her neck cricked at an unnatural angle, revealing the small gap between her front teeth. The defect disconcerted Baruch, for he had dreamt of her as perfect, blemish-free, aware that his own imperfections were alarmingly