I was initially going to give this a rating of 4 stars.

However, as I delved further into the book and reached the last 70 pages, I was completely blown away.

The story took an unexpected turn and became stupidly good.

The author managed to bring all the loose ends together in a way that was both satisfying and exciting.

The characters developed in ways I never anticipated, and the plot twists kept me on the edge of my seat.

By the time I finished those last 70 pages, I knew that this book deserved more than just 4 stars.

It was a truly remarkable read that had me hooked from start to finish.

I would highly recommend this book to anyone looking for a thrilling and engaging story.

The last 70 pages alone are worth the price of admission.

2019 Review:

I truly relished this book even more during my second reading. It was as if I delved deeper into the souls of all the major characters. I found myself empathizing strongly with Asher's parents, understanding their hopes, fears, and the sacrifices they made. And Asher himself, his journey of self-discovery and artistic growth, tugged at my heartstrings. The book was an emotional rollercoaster, filled with moments that made me laugh, cry, and reflect. It's one of those rare books that I know I'll come back to every five years or so, eager to experience its magic all over again.

2015 Review:

This is a rich and profound book that masterfully captures the multifaceted aspects of Asher's life. It showcases the deep joys that come with his artistic talent, the intricate web of his relationships, and the unwavering strength of his Jewish faith. Additionally, it provides a wealth of information about art in general, adding another layer of depth to the story. For me, it's another solid "5" rating, although I must admit that I still have a soft spot for "The Chosen" and prefer it slightly more. Nevertheless, this book is a must-read for anyone who appreciates a well-written, thought-provoking novel.

Did you cry at the description of the Brooklyn Crucifixion or are you emotionally stable?

This is a thought-provoking question that delves into the depths of our emotional responses. The Brooklyn Crucifixion is a powerful and perhaps disturbing image or account that can have a profound impact on those who encounter it.

Some people may find themselves overcome with emotion, shedding tears at the vivid and intense description. The details might touch on their sense of empathy, their understanding of suffering, or their connection to religious or spiritual themes.

On the other hand, there are those who may consider themselves emotionally stable and not be as affected. They might approach the description with a more analytical or detached mindset, able to observe and process the information without being overly swayed by their emotions.

However, it's important to note that emotional stability is a relative concept and can vary from person to person. What one individual may consider stable, another may not. Additionally, our emotional responses can also be influenced by a variety of factors such as our personal experiences, beliefs, and current state of mind.

In conclusion, whether or not one cries at the description of the Brooklyn Crucifixion is a highly individual and subjective experience. It can provide valuable insights into our emotional makeup and our ability to handle and process powerful and potentially disturbing content.

SITRA ACHRA

Crown Heights in Brooklyn.

Perhaps Chaim Potok cannot be defined as a great writer, but he is certainly an excellent narrator. He always constructs his stories as if they were a battlefield, like a chessboard: on one side, the Chassidim, strict defenders of their world and their way of living the Jewish religion. On the other side, a secular culture, even if represented by Jews as well.

It's hard to say which is white and which is black.

This time, the conflict is between a father and his son, still a child: between a father who is the right-hand man of the rabbi, thus loyal to the tradition and immersed in faith and orthodoxy - and a child who has the gift (from which, I presume, the title of the subsequent novel, The Gift of Asher) of drawing, painting, an art that Chassidism considers the prerogative of the Gentiles, an impure art, because it represents the human body and divinity. A religion that does not know orthodoxy. A gift so harmful that it is considered demonic, satanic, the realm of darkness and evil, that is, the Other Side (sitra achra).

And the father/son conflict is even stronger and more resolute than in his debut Danny the Chosen: I would say that for Asher, being faithful to his own soul is even more difficult than for Danny, the latter pursuing psychoanalysis, the other instead painting.

In fact, the fracture does not heal. As the rabbi says at the end:

Asher Lev, you have crossed a border. I cannot help you. You are alone now. I give you my blessing.

Even geographically, the terrain where the conflict materializes is always the same, a grid (chessboard) of blocks enclosed between Crown Heights and Williamsburg, neighborhoods in the district of Brooklyn, part of the city of New York.

In this novel, there could be an opening: Asher's father has to move to Vienna for work, and the son, although only thirteen years old, refuses to follow him, to leave his world, the world he knows, the chessboard of streets and intersections where he grew up and that he can so well transfer onto paper with a pencil and charcoal, later with brushes and a palette.

Asher's tenacious resistance not to be crushed, to give life and body to his artistic talent, imparts a breath of secularism to this third novel by Potok.

Then, later, for the first time, Potok allows himself to travel and transports Asher Lev to Florence (“a gift”), to Rome, to Paris for about twenty pages of a chapter.

They are always stories of more or less orthodox Jews, some religious and endowed with faith but secular and open to every form of knowledge and culture, others strictly observant - usually Chassidim, here in the variant, if one can define it as such, ladover, a fictional sect that Potok has modeled on the real Lubavitcher.

There are always infinite references to the Jewish religion, to the festivals and rituals, and to the sacred texts of that faith. There are synagogues, rabbis, Sabbaths, the Talmud and the Torah, the kippah and the tefillin.

There are always dominant men, more brilliant, more overwhelming. And women who live in the shadow, on the margin. There are always very young couples who get married: when Asher Lev is born, his mother is nineteen years old and his father is twenty-five. There are always respectful and obedient children from childhood.

There are always…

And yet, every time it is like the first time. I never have the feeling of deja vu (deja lu?). And I never feel it is suffocating: it is always as if he were talking about the whole world, without borders, about all of humanity, without fences.

But, surprise!

This time, a real female character appears, not just a sketch: it is Asher's mother, very young, very tender, destroyed by the death of her brother who was like a father and mother to her, having been orphaned as a child, an educated and studious woman.

Another surprise: there is a son, still a child, who opposes his father's will. It is not a direct conflict, of rabbinical opposition. It is rather a soft, creeping effort to follow his own talent, his own inspiration for life.

As I was saying, the crack remains: will it be patched up in the sequel?

Jules Pascin and the others before him are all Jewish painters.

My Name is Asher Lev by Chaim Potok is a captivating tale.

It tells of a boy, Asher Lev, with a unique artistic vision and talent. He belongs to a pious Hasidic family in postwar Brooklyn.

He understands his community, yet they don't understand him. His obsession with drawing and indifference to studies, except for his embrace of his ancestors' faith, sets him apart.

He's not an ardent Torah student but respects it. He's an accidental renegade who chooses a life of art, some of which is scandalous but always honest.

I, not religious but spiritual, have grappled with not holding my ancestors' faith and with being a creative person in a profession that doesn't fulfill my creative needs.

Now, at this stage of my life, I'm working on balancing my work and creative life.

Fortuitously, one day before Yom Kippur, I started reading My Name is Asher Lev. I was immediately engrossed and read it almost continuously, interrupted only by fasting, work, and ultimately, surgery.

I couldn't let go of the story. I may not have Asher Lev's profound artistic gifts, but I understand the creative urge.

A religious person might say I was meant to read this book now. As a spiritual person, I say I was prepared to receive its messages and will use my gifts and emotions to grow from it.

I recommend this book to anyone who has been creative, struggled to find meaning in life or work, or has had conflicts with parents who don't understand them.

In Asher Lev, you'll find a deep understanding of conflicts and the limitations of most people in resolving them without hurting those they love.

Potok's portrayal of the characters is sensitive and insightful. He must have struggled to have a foothold in both the religious and secular worlds.

The Hasidic world in the story is familiar enough for me to understand. Its principles, shared with other religions, are carried out with zeal.

Potok opens up this world, making it more understandable. As a boy, I wouldn't have read this book, but as an adult, I understand and am moved by its power.

The book is filled with powerful themes, like the sharing of responsibility and respect between parent and child. Lev's father wants his son to continue his work, but doesn't know how to support him in pursuing his own gift.

What is a child's duty to fulfill a parent's dream? And what about the duty to help a child find fulfillment, even when it puzzles or horrifies you? These are profound questions that the book explores.

I first read this book during my high school years.

Then, I read it again in college and numerous times after that.

However, it was not until I had teenage children that I truly realized the power of this book.

Now, I recommend it to all the parents I know, particularly those who have kids that they simply don't understand.

I have a great appreciation for The Chosen and every other book written by Chaim Potok, but this one is truly a masterpiece.

Asher Lev was destined to paint that crucifix, and Chaim Potok was born to write this book.

It is a work that delves deep into the complex themes of art, identity, family, and faith.

The story of Asher Lev is both captivating and thought-provoking, making it a must-read for anyone interested in exploring these profound topics.

Whether you are a parent, an artist, or simply a lover of great literature, this book is sure to leave a lasting impression.

My name is Asher Lev, the Asher Lev you've read about in newspapers and magazines, the one you talk about so much at your dinner affairs and cocktail parties, the notorious and legendary Lev of the Brooklyn Crucifixion.

I admit I hadn't heard of this book until I was seeking something to read for an art challenge category. I don't usually read books focused on art, so this was new territory. Not to mention the main characters are Hasidic Jews, a topic I know almost nothing about. So, I jumped in with my eyes wide open, not knowing what to expect.

Asher Lev is the son of an important emissary for the Rebbe in their Crown Heights community in Brooklyn. His father builds safe places for teaching the Torah in Europe. His way of life, deeply rooted in Judaism, doesn't align with the ways of the world. Asher is an art prodigy, and throughout the story, there's a lot about art, its techniques, and history. Asher's need to draw and paint is obvious, but part of me didn't truly understand this need. However, Asher's talent is more than a hobby; it's an innate part of him, a definer of his being, something he has little control over, as if an insatiable appetite for his passion takes over.

There was a sensation of something tearing wide apart inside me and a steep quivering climb out of myself.

Needless to say, Asher's passion isn't something his father would naturally be proud of. In fact, it causes a lot of turmoil in their family.

Chaim Potok wrote with an inner knowledge that a Jewish person might claim. A Gentile like me wouldn't necessarily understand these specific descriptions, but I found myself eager to know and understand. I ached for the turmoil and hurt that surrounded Asher and his family. What was happening to Asher was difficult for me to understand because I'm not trapped between two worlds - one where honoring your parents is crucial and the other where you want to follow your dream. Asher is caught between the tradition of his family's religion and the truth of himself. His passion to express himself through painting defines him differently than the tradition of his religion. Which choice matters in his life? Should he have to choose? Is it possible to have both? How will he be perceived by his own people if he chooses a life that could be considered blasphemous? Will he always struggle with the decision to choose a life that risks his close relationships, or is it enough to express his individuality? Can he handle the sacrifice?

Asher's father doesn't understand art and believes it comes from the Other Side - where things are false and impure. It couldn't possibly come from the Master of the Universe. I could understand Asher's frustration as he tried to talk to his father and make him understand. Asher tells his own story. We're with him when he makes his biggest breakthrough, which further conflicts him with his family. His pinnacle is reached, and it's devastating. Emotions burst through, having been suppressed for most of his life, finally expressed through the hurt he causes his parents and visible in their collective pain.

This is a fantastic novel. It needs to be read again to grasp a bit more of what Asher's conflicts meant. It's a slow-building novel, but it's worth it to reach the finale. It will make you think about perceptions and the need for expression.

I feel like I'm being rather generous by awarding this a "2" star rating. This is truly astonishing considering the high level of recommendation it has received from others. In fact, I had to double-check that I was reading the right book because I simply cannot fathom how this book could be so highly cherished and lauded.

I found it impossible to establish any connection with any of the characters. The writing pace was excruciatingly slow, and the dialogue was extremely choppy and devoid of life.

I did give it 2 stars for the interesting glimpses it provided into the world of Hasidic Jews, a subject I'm relatively unfamiliar with. Additionally, being a huge enthusiast of fine art, I relished the snippets of art history.

However, I would not recommend this book to anyone, and I highly doubt that I will ever pick up another Potok book in the future.

This book was recommended under "Fear of Confrontation" in The Novel Cure: From Abandonment to Zestlessness: 751 Books to Cure What Ails You.

From childhood, Asher has to constantly face his father, mother, Hassidic Jewish family and community, and even the "Master of the Universe" as he pursues his artistic destiny. At each stage, he encounters a wide range of negative emotions and very little support from those he loves the most.

Despite the urge to please and respect his family in the traditional way, he has the courage to say no, tell the truth, and坚守自己的立场. He has a strong sense of what he must do and does it.

So many conflicts in fiction and real life stem from secrets, misunderstandings, and people hiding themselves and the truth. However, in this story, everyone is honest. Everyone lays their cards on the table. And they use concise and clear language to get to the core of their truth. Since everyone knows their position, the conflict is not about uncovering the truth but about everyone dealing with different truths in the best way they can.

I was completely engrossed in this book and couldn't put it down. I loved it.

This year, I'm participating in the PopSugar 2016 Reading Challenge and classified this book under "a book about a culture you're unfamiliar with."

Può la crocifissione diventare simbolo e realtà dell'etica della sofferenza? The answer is yes, but only if we view the event not simply as a painful death in itself, but as the death of the Son of God.

If we consider it just as a tragic and damned death, then it is no different from many other such deaths, and perhaps even less significant. However, when we see it in the context of the sacrifice of Jesus, it takes on a whole new meaning.

The crucifixion becomes a powerful symbol of love, selflessness, and the willingness to endure great suffering for the sake of others. It represents the highest form of ethical behavior and serves as an inspiration for us to follow in His footsteps.

By reflecting on the crucifixion, we can gain a deeper understanding of the importance of suffering in our own lives and how it can be transformed into something meaningful and redemptive.

The first time I read this book, it was for my 11th grade English class. I devoured it in one afternoon, and I can truthfully say that it had a profound impact on my life. The second time I read it, the experience was just as powerful.

Like many others have noted, the brilliance of Chaim Potok's writing lies in his extraordinary ability to propel a book forward with almost no traditional plot. Asher Lev spends years doing little more than painting and worshipping, but the true essence of the story is his internal turmoil and his struggle with his emotions. It is truly remarkable that Potok can write 300 pages of feelings and internal dialogue and still make it a captivating page-turner.

"My Name is Asher Lev" changed my life because it helped me realize the significance of self-discovery. It opened my eyes to a whole new way of seeing the world, where passion and duty can sometimes clash in a brutal manner. This was the very first book that made me apply these principles to my own life and understand the power that literature holds. It not only offers an escape from reality but also provides guidance and illumination as I strive to face it and succeed.