Many, many years ago, when I was just a teenager, I delved into several novels by Chaim Potok and was completely enthralled. I vividly remember devouring "The Chosen" and "My Name is Asher Lev".

If a reading experience lingers so clearly in one's memory, it surely holds great significance. But what would the impact of a Chaim Potok novel be after the passage of years and a wealth of additional reading experiences? It turns out to be just as satisfying.

One of the main reasons I read is to lose myself in a world that is vastly different from my own familiar one. "The Chosen" transports you right into the heart of the intellectual conflicts that emerged among the Hasidic Jews who arrived from Eastern Europe after WWII and the existing American Orthodox Jewish community.

One of the most remarkable aspects of "The Promise" and indeed all of Potok's novels is the central and dominant role that religion plays in the lives of the characters. Despite this stark contrast to my own life, Potok crafts characters who are highly relatable, thereby making it effortless to engage with this alternate world.

I also greatly relished the contrast that Potok constructs between Danny Saunders and Reuven Malter. Danny is undoubtedly a genius, an intellectual force to be reckoned with. In comparison, it might be easy to view Reuven as inferior. However, Reuven's strengths, though more understated, are equally powerful and significant, just different. Reuven combines analytical prowess with relationship skills and empathy for his fellow humans in a way that is ultimately even more extraordinary than what Danny brings to the table.

Admittedly, I did find the conclusion of the story a touch overdone in several aspects, but this is merely a minor quibble with what was otherwise a truly wonderful reading experience.

I can't believe it's been nearly 20 years since I read The Chosen!

I was a bit worried going into this one that I would be confused, because of how long it had been.

However, I needn't have worried. The Promise can work as a standalone story in itself, but it also was enough to make me remember The Chosen really well too!

I love Chaim Potok's writing and especially his characters. Everyone was so well-realized and multi-dimensional that I was able to understand and empathize with all of them, even the so-called "villain." (In fact, there was no real villain in the book).

The story was very emotional, filled with the joys and sorrows of life. It made me laugh and cry at the same time.

And yet, it still ended on a hopeful note, leaving me with a sense of optimism and a belief that things will get better.

Overall, I highly recommend The Promise to anyone who loves a good story with complex characters and a powerful message.

The Promise is largely about disputes over the interpretations of the Talmud. It may not sound entirely appealing when I say that. However, I witnessed the dignity that accompanied these disputes and the mutual respect between the opposing sides. Throughout the entire novel, there is a great parallel to the current ideological conflicts that we handle much worse, or rather not at all. Our exchanges are more like a war zone in the sandbox of a children's playground, supplemented with adult vulgarities and pure hatred. In Chaim Potok's book, the opponents mainly tried to understand the actions of the other. Such a thing is completely absent here and is magnified on both sides of all our conflicts.

The Promise is a continuation of the novel The Chosen, and both books are really excellent. They take place in the Jewish neighborhoods of New York and try to truly delve deep. It is, however, difficult to say whether these books would also entertain readers for whom the Jewish environment means nothing.

By the end of this book, I found myself completely unprepared to bid farewell to the characters. It wasn't due to any lingering issues that I longed to have resolved. Instead, it was simply because they had come to hold such profound meaning for me. This is truly a brilliant story.

This book, along with The Chosen, marked my initial encounter with Jewish thought and scholarship. I was utterly fascinated by the characters' intense dedication to the study of the Talmud and commentaries. Over the course of this narrative, I was introduced to numerous new concepts within Judaism. I am certain that a second reading would uncover even more that awaits to be learned.

A significant portion of the dominant theme directly translates into Christianity. How can we best comprehend the Bible, and what methods of scholarship are acceptable? What are our thoughts on the various traditions and interpretations surrounding the Bible, and how should we interact with those with whom we disagree? How do religion and science coexist, and how do both influence our understanding of mental health? As Reuven would say: I may not concur with his answers, but I appreciate the questions he poses.

Another re-read for me.

I find myself constantly drawn back to Potok's works, and with each reading, I discover something new and profound.

Potok is truly one of the few 20th-century authors who has the ability to captivate readers and keep them engaged, no matter how many times they revisit his stories.

When Chaim Potok passed away, I was deeply heartbroken.

The thought that there would never be a continuation of the stories of these beloved characters was almost too much to bear.

Yet, I still held out hope, against all odds.

In my opinion, this book is a work of near genius.

Even on the nth read, I find myself completely immersed in the story, unable to put it down.

Potok's writing is so masterful that it draws you in and makes you feel as if you are a part of the lives of the characters.

His ability to explore complex themes such as religion, identity, and family is truly remarkable.

This book is a must-read for anyone who appreciates great literature.

When I first read “The Chosen”

I was approximately the same age as the protagonists. It promptly became one of my favorite books

(and still remains so). When “The Promise” became accessible, I rapidly snatched it up,

yet it didn't resonate with me. I regarded it as an unworthy successor.

However, upon returning to it more than 40 years later, I finally understand.

“The Promise” is about the pain we bear, sometimes for decades.

It's about the pain we inflict on our religious institutions and the pain that is imposed on us by our religious institutions.

It's about the choice between fight or flight as it unfolds within the context of faith.

Reuven Malter remains the honorable man he became in the first book.

And Potok remains the unwavering observer of characters who are desperately attempting to do the right thing

even when the “right thing” conflicts with other people's “right thing.” Now that I'm in my 60s,

I recognize it as the profound reflection on life that it truly is.

I'm really attempting to be more discerning when awarding 5 star ratings. Truly, I am. However, this book truly merits each and every one of these 5 stars!

And I'm going to have a difficult time precisely explaining why! Chaim Potok is such a remarkable author, and his writing is so exquisitely elegant and multilayered. But despite my best efforts, I can't quite put my finger on exactly why his books are so special.

It addresses some topics that I find unappealing. For example, I don't like what happened to poor Michael, and I wanted to deduct stars for that reason. But I found that I couldn't.

I love that this book, just like its prequel The Chosen, left me with so many questions. I find that truly great books often have this effect.

Also, there were numerous themes intertwined in The Promise. There are enough that I'm certain this book will still seem fresh even on a sixth reading. One theme that I find captivating is the push and pull between the traditional and the modern.

Another aspect that intrigued me is the way Potok would intersperse references to James Joyce's Ulysses throughout the story. Ulysses has been on my to-read list for years, and I still don't feel quite courageous enough to take it on. But Potok has made me extremely curious with his references to the Ithaca and Penelope chapters!

And of course, I adore the fact that the characters in the two Potok books that I've read so far have a passion for studying and learning. I'm glad I own a copy of this book because I know I'll want to reread it again and again. But first, I need to let it soak in a bit more.

I discovered this sequel to The Chosen several years after initially reading The Chosen. I was overjoyed at the prospect of spending more time with these remarkable characters. However, I was completely underwhelmed by the tone of this novel.

It was significantly darker and heavier than its predecessor. The story delved into deeper and more complex themes, perhaps reflecting the passage of time and the growth of the characters.

If you are a die-hard fan of Danny and Reuven and simply can't get enough of them, then by all means, give this book a read. But don't go into it with the expectation of more charming boyhood tales.

This is a different kind of story, one that explores the challenges and hardships that come with adulthood and the choices we make along the way.

While it may not have had the same lighthearted charm as the first book, it still offers a compelling and thought-provoking read for those willing to engage with its darker themes.

I don't remember enough details to write a comprehensive review. However, I spent my early 20's working in the vicinity of the Diamond District in New York. That area was predominantly populated with Hasids. At that time, I read this book as a sequel to "The Chosen". I had a liking for both of them. But sequels often have a tendency to be a step down in quality compared to the original.

It might be that the expectations set by the first book are too high, and the sequel struggles to meet them. Or perhaps the author tries to take the story in a different direction that doesn't quite resonate with the readers as strongly. In any case, while I did enjoy this book to some extent, it didn't quite have the same impact as "The Chosen" for me.

Maybe with a second reading, I would be able to pick up on more nuances and appreciate it better. But for now, I'll just remember it as an interesting addition to the series.

This review is a combined review for "The Chosen" and "The Promise". I read "The Chosen" and was immediately captivated by the characters. Their depth and complexity drew me in, and I found myself completely invested in their lives. Shortly after finishing "The Chosen", I picked up "The Promise" and continued on this wonderful literary journey.

I haven't been able to stop thinking about some of the themes explored in these books. The silence of Reb Saunders was a powerful and thought-provoking element. It made me wonder about the role of silence in communication and the secrets that people keep. The relationship between Danny and Reuven was another aspect that stood out to me. Their friendship was tested by religious differences and family expectations, but it ultimately prevailed. Their relationships with their fathers were also complex and nuanced, adding another layer of depth to the story.

Michael's struggles mirror Danny's pain and Reuven's frustration, showing how similar yet different their experiences are. The religious differences and tensions between the Hasidic and Orthodox communities were vividly portrayed, highlighting the importance of understanding and acceptance. And the passion for learning that both Danny and Reuven have is truly inspiring. It made me reflect on my own love for learning and the importance of education.

Being so invested in the lives of Reuven and Danny, I did not want this series to end! Chaim Potok is a brilliant writer who has a talent for creating engaging and memorable characters. His exploration of complex themes such as religion, family, and friendship is both profound and thought-provoking. I will definitely be reading his other books!

I firmly believe that people might, on occasion, overlook Potok's books. The reason being that they are set within such a distinct and seemingly alien context, namely Orthodox Judaism. This is truly a pity.

For I have derived both solace and been challenged by the manner in which his characters grapple with faith and doubt, and how these aspects impact their relationships with others, especially their parents.

While I opined that this particular book was not quite as powerful as The Chosen or Asher Lev, it is still most definitely worthy of being read.

Potok's works offer a unique perspective into a world that many may not be familiar with, yet the themes of faith, doubt, and relationships are universal and relatable.

By delving into these books, readers can gain a deeper understanding of different cultures and belief systems, as well as explore their own inner struggles and emotions.

So, I would encourage everyone to give Potok's books a chance and discover the beauty and wisdom that lies within them.

07/22/19. Just as beautiful as The Chosen. I liked it a little better, actually. Potok does a masterful job of weaving multiple stories together and carefully placing characters in just the right places, so that each facet of the novel had significance and played off the other stories explored. I love Jewish novels, and these are some of my favorites. Potok's examination of Hasidic Judaism is poignant and eloquent.

EDIT: I just read this again, 4/16/22, (as I've been meaning to) because the first time I read it I had a feeling like I'd only read the words, and didn't get any of the deeper meaning. So this time I read it and took notes along the way and NOW I have some THINGS TO SAY.

This is a book, like many of Chaim Potok's books, about the tension between Orthodox Jewry and modern Jewry. Each of the characters is experiencing the same tension, just from different angles and with different conclusions. The book is called "the promise," and one interpretation of that title could be that it refers to the covenant promise between God and his covenant people. The central question of the book is, how do you keep an unchanging promise in a changing world? How do you find answers to questions without challenging the foundation of your belief?

One of the parts that resonated most significantly with me goes as follows: "...I felt a part of myself slide out of the dance and look coldly at what I was doing and heard it telling me how strange it was to be dancing with Hasidim, whose way of life I disliked, whose ideas were so different from mine, whose presence was destroying my world. I continued dancing, but for the rest of that night that part of me remained outside it all, watching." In the book, Reuven and those of his generation (Danny, Rachel, Michael) occupy a liminal space between the old world and the new. Rachel is going to graduate school in English literature but marries a Hasid. Danny is a psychologist beginning his dissertation but keeps the tradition. They're forced to be bridges between the world their parents occupy and a new world, in the aftermath of the Holocaust and the exodus of many Jews from the old world. This is a book about a culture trying to rebuild itself, and the ultimate conclusion is that this is for the next generation to confront. This is a problem that will be solved by Reuven and his peers, or it will not be solved at all. The marriage between Danny and Rachel is thus symbolic of a hope for reconciliation between the new and old ways of being Jewish, because they occupy such different places in the world of Judaism.

Similarly, the theme of the tension between modernity and orthodoxy is continued in how Danny practices psychology (experimentally) and how David Malter studies Talmud (in a way that threatens the bedrock of Orthodox Jewry, which is the incorruptibility of the scriptures).

I found the portrayals of a variety of suffering people to be compassionate and moving. Danny's use of the silent method to treat Michael is no accident and allows him to confront his own conflicted feelings for his father. Michael and Rev Kalman are mirrors of each other: embattled, reactive, continually reliving past trauma. They embody terror disguised as rage: Rev Kalman rages against changing Jewry and an unfamiliar country, but by the end of the book his bewilderment and sense of loss in a new country is evident. Michael resists treatment with enormous energy, but much of his final speech is him admitting the fear he felt in his feelings of hate towards his parents.

Just like in the Chosen, there is a heavy focus on father-son relationships, as described above, and I think another way to read the meaning of the title is to think about the story of Abraham and Isaac, and the promise that threatened to destroy the son. Michael is certainly a cornered, bitter version of Isaac, under attack because of his father.

I loved this book even more than the first time I read it, having paid more attention to the different themes of the book. It's a beautiful book about faith and navigating an ancient tradition in a changing world, and something about the novelty of Chaim Potok's books means that they all feel new and fresh and moving, even though you can broadly say that in all of his books Chaim Potok's aim is to explore the nuance of a very old religion in an often hostile world. His conclusions are compassionate: people hold on to the tradition, even when it doesn't make sense to them, and there are moments of understanding and reconciliation between the different groups that attempt to solve this problem differently. As someone who asks a lot of questions and can no longer just accept religion at face value, I find hope in Potok's books. He suggests that there is a way to bridge the gap, that we don't need to abandon religion to accept secular knowledge, that asking questions is critical and doesn't have to jeopardize your faith. There are many ways to live a religious life, according to Potok.

I can't recommend this book highly enough. It's beautiful, moving, fascinating, and continually familiar to me as a Latter-day Saint, even though it's a book about Judaism. I could keep struggling to express how deeply this book resonated with me, or I could just say simply that: it struck a chord with me that I can't put into words.