Tag Archives: The Chosen

On Reading The Chosen

Talmud. Kabbalah. Sanhedrin. God says unto man, “Read. And read more. Labor over every intonation, every possible meaning, until your eyes go dark,” and they obey. Young men trying on their fathers’ shoes; they live in the words.

In study.

Deep study into words and the numbers of things, codes from God’s finger, gossamer strands behind creation–a coming-of-age through inert toil, exhausting, mind-breaking toil over the page.

And you are left in a world of words. Over the landscape, Freud is a tower–a dark sentry post–and beneath the verdant hills lie catacombs of analytic logic–branching tunnels of if’s and then’s beneath the disordered graveyards of nephilim.

Worlds within worlds–all standing still.