Chosen #3

Francine Prose describes her reading experience as, "pondering each deceptively minor decision the writer had made," and this philosophy has really come alive with me in The Chosen by Chaim Potok (3). In the book, I started to examine every word and idea as if it had to "stand on trial for its life," to, again, quote Prose. In the beginning, there was nothing, just a blank page. And every single word that made its way onto the page had to pass a "purpose" test. When the purpose of the word isn't blatantly obvious, to advance the plot or contribute to a character, then it begs to be examined. When Reuven's dad leaves the house because of his second heart attack, I noticed "the total silence in the apartment was impossible for me to take" (243). Just as Danny Saunders had been raised in silence, Reuven was now experiencing it, and it was hard for him to swallow. But what's interesting is that Reuven's capacity in his school work improves, especially in Talmud class, to a level of Danny's ability. "It is a joy to listen to you," Rev Gershenson tells Reuven after a four day explanation of a difficult text (253). The syllogism seems to be: quiet house, extraordinary Talmud student. Though a small detail, it roped me into a much bigger picture, one full of alternate meanings for silence and the effect it has on the mind.

Vladimir Nabokov speaks to a much different facet of reading: our emotional devotion to the characters. He advices, "We ought to remain a little aloof" (3). At the end of the book, it was quite hard for me to stay aloof. "I went over to him and put my hand on his shoulder and felt him trembling and crying," that's not an easy sentence to remain aloof to, especially considering the history that Danny and Reuven share (288). From the beginning of the book, they are enemies, and in the end, they love each other. However, I stopped when I got to this part. I started to identify with one of the characters, but I stopped myself short. I actually said to myself, "Jordan, Nabokov would not approve." And I continued reading from that quoted sentence forward, not feeling much of a resemblance between myself and Reuven and Danny. Also, I remained aloof at the beginning, when Danny admits to wanting to "open your head with my bat" (67). Though his passage initially made me quite angry -- after all, Danny had come to apologize, no? -- but I controlled myself. And look at where it took me. In the end of the book, Danny and Reuven have perhaps the most relatable, sweetest, most genuine, and best intentioned friendship I have ever seen.