For many years, Ronit Krushka has lived in New York, far away from Hendon, London, where she was raised. Estranged from her father (Rav Krushka, Hendon's most popular rabbi) and the Orthodox Jewish community she was raised in, Ronit resents the "institutionalised OCD" of her upbringing. She sees no place for her in Hendon as a bisexual, non-practising Jew.

But when her father passes away, Ronit must return and confront what she has left behind, including Esti (her ex-girlfriend from her teenage years, whom Ronit believes to be a lesbian) and Dovid (Ronit's childhood friend, the Rav's appointed successor, who has married Esti).

 

There was a lot to enjoy about this book.

Firstly, despite many of the cover illustrations depicting Ronit and Esti embracing, this isn't really a love story between them. Dovid has a significant role as the tritagonist as well. It's more about the entire community's drama as seen through the relationships of these three characters, which was quite interesting.

 

Throughout the book, the start of each chapter begins with literary quotes from the Torah, Talmud, Pirkei Avot, etc, giving the flavour of the culture, beliefs, and legends held by the Hendon community. I thought the depiction of the Hendon community and Jewish practices was very accurate, which is probably due to the author's personal experiences. I especially liked the scene showcasing cantillation (ta'amei ha'mikra).

 

The writing goes through the characters' internal states and mental dialogue in a way that's quite engaging, even if it's slow-paced. Then, the narrative begins to weave in scenes from the past, slowly revealing the mysterious backstory of these characters.

Meanwhile in the present, Ronit makes a commotion the longer she stays in Hendon, refusing to acquiesce to people in the community who want her to stay quiet about why she left in the first place.

 

As protagonists, Ronit and Dovid were easy to follow.

Ronit works really well as a protagonist because she's an unrepentant shit-stirrer who is ready to break up the status quo.

Dovid's portrayal is also very sympathetic, as he truly loves Esti and forgives her a great deal (maybe even too much).

I wasn't such a fan of Esti, because she comes off as rather thoughtless in her inner dialogue - in the sense that she literally doesn't think much about her decisions and their impacts, and mostly seems to float in a fog of emotions. But this might have been intentional by the author.

 

There are a couple of things I thought could be improved about the book:

(1) Why did Ronit have to have an affair with a married man (Scott), on top of having an affair with a married woman (Esti)? It reflected badly on her, and it's also repeating a negative bisexual stereotype. Why not let Scott be single instead? I think this was narratively used to end their relationship later (because Scott's wife begins to suspect him), but Scott could have stopped seeing Ronit for other reasons.

 

(2) The showdown scene at the end could have been more dramatic: Esti's speech doesn't seem to leave a huge impression on the hesper attendees. Hartog leaves the synagogue board soon afterwards, but because it's not clear why, this doesn't deliver a satisfying sense of justice being served. I wanted to see more of the effects of this speech rippling out through the community.

 

(3) I wasn't quite convinced that Dovid was satisfied with his marriage to a partner who doesn't romantically love him and is willing to cheat on him. Of course, it's possible that he's genuinely satisfied, but his reasons for feeling that way need to be spelled out more.

 

(4) I think the status quo was maintained too much: Esti and Dovid stay married in Hendon, while Dovid becomes the new rabbi as he was expected to do. All they do is publically state that Esti is a lesbian. 

Ronit also changes very little: she returns to New York and simply incorporates one or two Jewish rituals in her life.

These subtle indications of character growth might be realistic, but I'd like a fictional book to be more dramatic and exciting than that!

The most notable change is actually outside of the book itself: Naomi Alderman stated that writing the book caused her to stop practising Judaism entirely.

 

Also, the audiobook narrator is constantly messing up the pronunciation and emphasis of Hebrew words like HASH-em and RON-it (these should be "ha-SHEM" and "ro-NIT"). The latter is especially silly since the correct emphasis is explained in the text by Ronit herself.

More goofs:

Wrong emphasis: reb-BIT-tzin, SHAB-bit, ta-AH-mim, a-HAR-ron

"Ch" pronounced like "chips": ha-LA-chic (wrong emphasis too), CHU-mash (wrong emphasis too), CHU-lent (cholent), CHE-ryl (should be "sheh-ril" from French)

Wrong pronounciation: Cheshvan is read as KESH-er-van, lashon ha’ra becomes LASH-on HARR-er, treif becomes TREE-if, kiddush is pronounced ke-DUSH, yeshiva becomes ye-SHIV-ver

Bizzarely, the narrator manages to perfectly pronounce challot, including the chet.

Apart from these pronunciation issues, the narrator is actually really good, reading clearly and with distinct voices.

 

Overall, I think Disobedience is worth reading, even if I'd want its narrative outcomes and dramatic heights to be pushed further than they are. (And apparently, that's what happens in the film.)

 

For a book with similar Jewish themes, but which I recommend more strongly, see Chutzpah! by Yehudis Fletcher.