A Spork in the Road

I picked up this book at a library sale recently, and found it unexpectedly resonant. I’ve always loved Potok, and I’m discovering he’s an author whose work I appreciate more and more as I grow older.

I love the clarity of his prose. I love the solidity of his characters. I love his balance of intellect and emotion, especially when dealing with religious themes, with the reexamination of theological orthodoxy, the struggle to stay rooted in tradition without sacrificing intellectual and emotional honesty.

One of my favorite passages from The Book of Lights:

Gershon sat alone afterward, echoes of the conversation churning within him. Street words lurched through his head, the language of rage. The smug superiority of those certain of salvation. Long-dimmed visions of teachers in dingy classrooms teaching the road map of relationships with the Higher Power, the carefully delineated turns and bends, highways, byways, bridges, the surfeit of text and commentary, the richness to the point of glutinous choking, no new lights, no unexpected visions that chilled the spine, and a sharp voice if you turned to stare out the window at the way the pigeons strutted along the sidewalk in the sunlight.

(And if you want a taste of real Kabbalah, without that sour Madonna aftertaste, this is a great place to start.)

• Find a used copy of this book on Powell’s…
• …or on Amazon.com