I MIEI FIGLI MI HANNO CONQUISTATO

The world around the narrator was changing. In Williamsburg, Brooklyn, the neighborhood that was once home only to some Hasidic sects before World War II, now seemed overshadowed by their presence in the fifth year after the war. These were the survivors of the sulfurous chaos of the concentration camps, with their dark, somber figures in long black overcoats, black hats, and long beards, and curly locks hanging over their ears on both sides of their emaciated faces. Their meditative eyes, like black balls of fire, were turned inward to secret visions of the demonic. Here, in Williamsburg, they set about rebuilding their incinerated world.

This is how the second novel of Chaim Potok begins, continuing the story of Reuven and Danny two years after the beginning and the first appearance of the pair of friends in The Chosen – Danny l’eletto. The narrator finds this concise description of the transformation of the traditionally most Orthodox Jewish neighborhood in New York magnificent. And the change must have been significant if Potok returns to it in the middle of the book with the following words: “I thought how those survivors of the concentration camps had changed the face of things. They were the survivors, the zealous guardians of the spark. And now everything that was traditional was being drawn towards that zeal. They had changed everything through mere survival and the crossing of an ocean.”

The narrator has the feeling that for Reuven, “the zealous guardians of the spark” have also changed the climate, casting a medieval cloak. The obscurantism is accentuated by Senator McCarthy, who is at work during those years, and the Rosenbergs are about to end up in the electric chair.

In the first novel, it was Danny who was the chosen one and had to make a life choice: continue the family tradition and become a rabbi after his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, or dedicate himself to his passion, Freud, psychology, and psychoanalysis. Now the obligation of choice seems to have shifted to his best friend, Reuven, the narrator of both novels. And for Reuven too, the choice concerns his whole life: become a rabbi or dedicate himself to something else. Because to achieve the first goal, he is being asked to take sides, either one way or the other, renouncing his ideas, his principles, and even his affections.

The novel is enriched with characters. The narrator's father, Reuven, is always pleasantly present, a great scholar, an open, affectionate, and welcoming man; while Danny's father, who dominated the first novel, is much more withdrawn, a less tolerant, more rigid figure. A young woman, Rachel, who is the same age as the two friends, appears. She is mentioned often but seen acting little. This is not surprising: in the world of monotheistic religions, women count less than men. Rachel seems to be placed between Danny and Reuven, but she is neither an aggregating nor a disaggregating character. Her biblical name immediately clarifies that she is in the religious zone of both, although not in the most Orthodox one.

Then there is her cousin, a fourteen-year-old adolescent with severe mental disorders who enters treatment with Danny and idolizes Reuven. This is a very interesting and original character who gives the story an extra gear, a warm and suffering intensity. To complete the new entries are the respective parents of the two young men.

The most controversial character is Dilaniante, an angry rabbi and a devotee of religious law, of the most traditional Orthodoxy, who refuses reinterpretations, interpretations, and updates. But Potok does not become judgmental even with him. On the contrary, his past in Majdanek is presented to counterbalance – and motivate – his character and personality, opening loopholes of tolerance.

Once again, Potok immerses himself in discussions of the sacred texts of Judaism and their various numerous interpretations (reinterpretations, grammatical corrections, explanations, contradictions, exegetical work begun centuries ago), dealing with aspects of faith and religion. And despite the narrator's deep-rooted resistance to these topics, his attention is never lacking, never even tempered.

Once again, Potok seems to oppose religious law – and traditional Orthodoxy in its various manifestations – to the (changed) reality of modern times, as if the first were a room with closed windows and stale air, and the second opened the apertures and refreshed the atmosphere. But the two novels are above all a hymn to respect, friendship, and the freedom of choice. Grandiose, this one even more so than the previous one.

A brilliant, beautiful book. It delves deep into the human psyche, perhaps a little too Freudian for some tastes. However, its beauty remains undiminished.

The author's exploration of the subconscious mind is both fascinating and thought-provoking. The vivid descriptions and engaging narrative draw the reader in, making it difficult to put the book down.

Despite its Freudian leanings, the book offers valuable insights into the human condition. It forces us to confront our own desires, fears, and insecurities, and to consider how they shape our lives.

Overall, this is a remarkable book that combines intellectual rigor with literary elegance. It is a must-read for anyone interested in psychology, literature, or the human experience.

Excellent writing, captivating story, remarkable originality, and outstanding quality.

Potok has truly never let me down thus far. His books are all extremely profound, delving deep into the human psyche and society. They are not only very thought-provoking but also have the power to make readers engage in brutal self-evaluation.

Each of his works is like a mirror, reflecting our own flaws, virtues, and the complex world we live in. The stories he weaves are so vivid and real that they draw the readers in and make them experience a gamut of emotions.

Potok's writing style is unique, with a perfect blend of simplicity and elegance. His words flow smoothly, carrying the weight of his ideas and making the reading experience truly enjoyable.

Whether it's a historical novel or a contemporary piece, Potok's works always have something valuable to offer. They are not just books to be read and forgotten but rather treasures that stay with us and continue to influence our thinking long after we have turned the last page.

I am truly overjoyed to once again be in this world with these captivating characters.

This book, much like The Chosen, delves deep into the themes of fathers and sons and friendship. It offers a remarkable and unique perspective into a community that I otherwise knew very little about.

It was incredibly fascinating to immerse myself in the complex tensions that exist between Hasid, Orthodox, and other Jews. Moreover, the influx of refugees after World War II adds yet another layer to that tension, something I would never have anticipated.

The writing in this book is simply beautiful, captivating the reader's attention from the very first page. However, it should be noted that there is some experimental psychology within the story that might be triggering for some readers.

Overall, this book is a must-read for anyone interested in exploring the rich tapestry of human relationships and the often overlooked aspects of different cultures.

Upon rereading "The Chosen" for about the third time and reading the sequel "The Promise" for the first time, I am truly convinced that Chaim Potok is now one of my all-time favorite authors. He is an outstanding storyteller who, with seemingly simple sentences and straightforward descriptions, has the remarkable ability to draw us deep into the world of Reuven and Danny.

This world is rich with details of a specific time and place, as well as a particular religion. It takes us to Brooklyn during World War I and II and immerses us in the realm of Orthodox Judaism. These books might not be the first choice for many based solely on their synopses. However, the stories have a profound resonance because they touch on universal themes such as friendship, which is often much more difficult to maintain than we might initially think. They also explore the complex concepts of choice, obligation, and freedom, as well as the importance of family.

In "The Promise," the story expands even further and delves into the themes of revolution and the desire to change the system in which one grew up or is trying to enter. It forces us to think about how to fight those who resist change with both respect and courage, while also grappling with the often-conflicting emotions of hating and loving one's family at the same time. Chaim Potok's works are not only entertaining but also thought-provoking, making them a must-read for anyone interested in exploring the human condition.

Having read, and loved, The Chosen by Potok, I was truly excited to discover that there was a sequel. The Chosen had left such a profound impact on me, with its rich characters and thought-provoking themes. I eagerly anticipated delving into The Promise, hoping for an equally captivating experience.

However, I'm not entirely sure if my expectations were set too high after thoroughly enjoying The Chosen. As I began reading The Promise, I found that it didn't quite engage me in the same way. The story seemed to lack the same level of intensity and emotional depth that had drawn me in so strongly in the first book.

Perhaps it was because I had become so attached to the characters in The Chosen and was expecting more of the same. Or maybe the plot of The Promise didn't resonate with me as deeply. Whatever the reason, I couldn't help but feel a slight sense of disappointment.

A truly poignant story indeed. As I delved deeper into the narrative, I couldn't help but keep wondering about the mysteries that lay behind Potok's plot. What were the hidden motives, the unspoken emotions that drove the characters and shaped the events? It made me question what exactly Potok intended the reader to take away from this literary journey. Was it a message about love and loss, about the power of family and tradition? Or perhaps it was something more profound, a reflection on the human condition itself. Each turn of the page seemed to hint at something greater, something that I was eager to uncover. The story had a hold on me, and I found myself completely immersed in its world, eager to discover the secrets that lay within.

I have re-read this text numerous times and will undoubtedly do so again.

It builds upon the ideas presented in The Chosen and poses ongoing inquiries regarding the intersection of tradition and modernity. It offers remarkable insights into how the process of molding individuals within a tradition equips them to contribute to a larger, somewhat adversarial culture. The anguish of conflict within the family and within the tradition is intensified.

This work has made me acutely aware of how conflict and the inability to accept it can be destructive. It prompts me to question what it means to be "people of the lie" if we refuse to address conflict. Written within the context of Jewish culture, it holds implications for Chinese culture, which often strives for harmony and peace rather than confronting conflict.

Moreover, it raises questions about how one generation shapes the next, not only within the family but also within broader traditions.

The theme of silence, specifically the Silence of God and our role (or lack thereof) in God's silence, is profoundly challenging throughout its pages.

Potok is a master at eliciting so many questions from me. I could continue to re-read his works indefinitely.

I initially believed that The Chosen was unrivaled, but this one managed to surpass it.

Chaim Potok has an extraordinary ability to draw readers into the lives of the characters. Reuven grapples with an internal struggle as he tries to determine precisely "what kind" of Jew he is while still remaining true to the faith he acquired from his father. Danny shows empathy towards Michael's suffering and has a strong desire to prove that his choice of psychology was the correct one.

However, it is truly tragic to witness how much humans tear each other apart. In this book, it is between the Hasidic and other Orthodox Jews, but it also reflects the reality that those who are most similar to us are sometimes the easiest to hate and the hardest to love.

Nevertheless, Potok masterfully brings the characters together in a way that offers hope to those, like Reuven, who strive to find a "middle" way that is still faithful. The title "The Promise" reflects the twofold nature of the people of Israel's faithfulness to God and YHWH's faithfulness to his people.

The book provides a penetrating insight into Hasidism, New York in the 1950s and 60s, and a level of scholarship, academic discipline, and religious fervor that is increasingly foreign to our "modern" sensibilities. It is simply a brilliant book. I am eagerly looking forward to reading Davita's Harp and completing the trilogy.

This novel continues the captivating story that was initiated in The Chosen. Reuven and Danny remain steadfast friends, with each of them engaged in the pursuit of graduate studies. Danny is delving deep into the field of psychology, while Reuven is diligently studying at the Yeshiva, working towards his ordination.

The story commences in August, as Reuven and his father are on vacation by a lake. During this time, Reuven is dating Rachel, and he takes her and her cousin Michael to a fair. It quickly becomes evident that Michael has certain mental issues that pose significant challenges in his life. Due to these issues, Michael is admitted to a treatment center - coincidentally, the very one where Danny is interning. Danny then makes an attempt to work with Michael, hoping to bring about some positive change.

I re-read this book in 2013. My initial memory was that I didn't enjoy it nearly as much as the first installment. I suspected that this was because it focused less on the friendship between Reuven and Danny and more on other complex issues and the interactions that Reuven and Danny have in those particular situations. However, this time around, I can wholeheartedly say that I thoroughly enjoyed it. There were several nights when I would be completely engrossed in reading, look at the clock to see how late it was, and have to force myself to tear away in order to go to sleep. The Jewish traditions and terminology are explained in great detail, making me feel as if I was actually walking the streets, sitting in the classrooms, and fully immersed in the rich culture. And although, as a Christian, I view some of the religious points from a different perspective, I have an enormous amount of respect for their unwavering passion and zeal for Torah.

Growing up is never an easy feat, and for Orthodox boys in the mid-20th century, it was particularly arduous. The Jewish people were in a state of turmoil following the horrors of the Holocaust. Some placed their hopes in Israel, while others regarded it as anathema. This was especially true for the Hasidic communities from Eastern Europe, who fled both European and Soviet persecution and found a safe haven in the United States. However, the welcome that American Jews might have given to their kin was wearing thin due to the Hasids' swelling numbers and their fervent defense of rigid Orthodoxy.

In this context, Danny Saunders and Reuven Malter, two Orthodox boys introduced in the gripping tale of The Chosen, complete their coming of age. They are united in the treatment of a young boy whose genius is matched by his inexplicable rage.

In The Chosen, Danny chose to deviate from his father's legacy as a Hasidic rabbi and instead pursue psychology. His more mainstream rival-turned-friend Reuven, on the other hand, realized a call to the rabbinate. The Promise begins with both young men engaged in their graduate studies and facing shared difficulties that force them to reevaluate the paths they have chosen.

The first challenge they encounter is a boy named Michael, who has a passion for astronomy. Michael is the son of a humanistic Jewish scholar who is scorned by the traditionalists governing Hirsch University. Michael is very sick, plagued by fantasies and prone to episodes of rage. He has exhausted therapists and seems doomed to be institutionalized. Both Danny and Reuven have a personal connection to Michael through his older cousin Rachel. Danny has an idea for treating Michael, but it is risky. If it fails, it could potentially destroy the boy's psyche altogether.

Meanwhile, Reuven's position as a graduate student forces him to navigate between more liberal scholars like his father and Michael's, and the traditionalist Hasids. He recoils against the "mental ghetto" of fundamentalist Talmud studies but is not satisfied with answers that reduce Judaism to empty family traditions.

In The Chosen, Potok impressed me with how he had Danny and Reuven both deeply involved in an intense and challenging relationship with Danny's father, Reb Saunders. Reb Saunders despaired of both Danny's interest in the outside world and Reuven's father's modernist approach to Talmudic study. Although they started as antagonists, they ultimately reached a mutual understanding.

No one was defeated, and their differences did not cease, but they managed to break through the arguments and re-embrace each other. Potok accomplishes something similar in The Promise with the character of Rev Kalman. Kalman survived the Nazi death camps but lost nearly everyone he knew. When confronted with American Jews, he sees challengers who he believes threaten to complete what Hitler began with direct industrial murder.

Kalman stands between Reuven and ordination and is a particularly difficult antagonist as he rails against Reuven's father in the press. However, Potok does not resolve the tension by having Reuven choose a prescribed side. Instead, he makes his own choice, and Kalman proves to be much like Reb Saunders: the enmity is defeated, but not his person.

Though initially appealing for being the further story of Danny and Reuven, Potok's skill at presenting intense debate that leads to mutual understanding rather than one-sided victories truly impressed me. I imagine that as a rabbi himself, Potok has spent countless hours engaged in similar heated conversations with his colleagues and academics, striving to reconcile an ancient faith with modernity while still preserving the power of those values and practices to give direction and meaning to lives.

I think it's a really beautiful book.

You really get into it, you completely live with the characters and I have also learned an enormous amount.

There is so much more diversity in the Jewish faith than I could have ever imagined.

When I finished the book, I stared ahead for a quarter of an hour and let the whole book pass in review in my head.

This book really makes you think!

This is literature!!

It's not just a story, but a profound exploration of different cultures, beliefs, and human experiences.

The author's writing style is engaging and vivid, making it easy for the reader to immerse themselves in the world of the book.

Each character is well-developed and has their own unique personality and story.

It's a book that I would highly recommend to anyone who loves reading and wants to expand their knowledge and understanding of the world.

Overall, it's a masterpiece that will stay with you long after you've finished reading it.