The Lenten season has begun, which for Catholics is a time of prayer, fasting, and abstinence. A friend suggested I give up alcohol for Lent. And maybe I can give up breathing too. I jest—people have given up far more and for a lot longer.
Which brings me to Rabbi Meir Y. Soloveichik, who reviews Forbidden: A 3,000-Year History of Jews and the Pig by Jordan D. Rosenblum.
"In a relatively concise work, Rosenblum takes us on a comprehensive tour, from classical sources to modern literature and movies. (Disappointingly, while Plutrach receives his due, The Simpsons is not a pop culture source cited by Rosenblum—not even a scene known to fans featuring a group styled 'The Rapping Rabbis' chanting, 'Don't eat pork/not even with a fork/can’t touch this!') The historian introduces the reader to a veritable smorgasbord of sources that is a bona fide intellectual feast. And yet: As the book reached the modern era, Rosenblum appears to valorize, or celebrate, Jews who have embraced the tabooed animal whole hog, and who defend themselves in Judaic terms. It is here that I lose my appetite for his argument.
"Let us begin with the culinary conundrum. As described in the Bible, any number of creatures are designated as forbidden food to God’s covenant people. A kosher animal must both chew its cud and feature split hooves; this, Leviticus further explains, would prohibit creatures that have have only one of these signs (a camel is a ruminant but has no real hooves, and a pig has split hooves but is not a ruminant). Kosher fish must feature fins and scales, thereby forbidding shellfish, as well as other marine life such as shark and catfish. Nothing in sacred Scripture singles out the pig as especially forbidden, and a Jew who eats shrimp is violating Torah law as severely as one who ingests pork. Thus, there is no source in the biblical period that marks the pig as an animal that is particularly repugnant. Why, then, is abstention from pork so affiliated with Jewishness?
"The answer, Rosenblum shows, lies in history. It was only during the Second Temple period, Rosenblum notes, that the Jews became particularly known by Gentiles for their refusal to eat pork, while Jews, in turn, began to see pork as forbidden food par excellence. This began, he shows, during the persecution of Judea by the Syrio-Greek Seleucid Empire, in which the Maccabean revolt, and the story of Hanukkah, ultimately unfolded. Stories of Jewish martyrdom, described in the second Book of Maccabees, described Jews who refused to ingest pork on pain of death. Thus, for Rosenblum, 'the particular role the pig plays in Second Temple martyrdom narratives directly leads to its outsized historical influence.' Meanwhile, the fact that Jews refrained from enjoying what was, in Simpsonian terms, a 'wonderful, magical, animal,' attracted the attention and the curiosity of pagans, either because Jews were known for abhorring the animal, or because it was so strange to Romans that Jews would deny themselves this particular pleasure.
"Eventually, as Rosenblum recounts, the rabbis returned the favor by utilizing the pig as a scripturally inspired metaphor for Rome itself. Because the pig was the one animal in the ancient world that featured the more noticeable kosher sign, split hooves, but still lacked the required rumination, the Talmud depicted the animal as an embodiment of hypocrisy, and therefore comparable to the abhorrent world power that had destroyed Judean Jerusalem and turned it into a pagan city: 'Just as the pig, when it lays down puts forth its hooves as if to say "I am clean," so too does this Evil Empire commit robbery and violence [while] giving itself the appearance as if holding court.'"
You can always count on Peggy Noonan to bring home the bacon in her weekly Wall Street Journal column. The former Reagan speechwriter recently published a collection of essays, A Certain Idea of America: Selected Writings. Noah Gould gives us a review.
"Noonan makes arguments most compellingly by example. As in the enduring speech in response to the Challenger explosion, which she wrote for Reagan, Noonan references great men of history and poetry to help make sense of larger issues. The Challenger explosion was not an isolated moment of time, but 390 years after 'the great explorer Sir Francis Drake' died at sea. The comparison places what might otherwise be seen as a random tragic event within the context of the epic history of explorers reaching new horizons.
"Likewise, in this volume, historical touchpoints shed light on issues of today. Ulysses S. Grant getting arrested by a policeman instructs on the rule of law and decency. An interview with Oscar Hammerstein pleads for political restraint among cultural elites. The death of Queen Elizabeth II allows reflection on faith and tradition. Taken together, these discrete examples give a cumulative case of what Noonan values.
"A strong moral voice and clarity on tough issues is often missing in the thousands, maybe tens-of-thousands, of opinion pieces shot back and forth each day in the world of pundits and 'thought leaders.' The supply of easy opinion is abundant, but not clear moral reasoning. Noonan provides this repeatedly, avoiding schoolmarmy lectures and reasoning from fundamentals. Her tenure of 20-plus years at the Wall Street Journal in addition to her successes as a speechwriter lend weight to these discussions, although even her early writings contain that moral golden thread. I credit that thread in giving her the ability to cut through the noise on a busy opinion page.
"The crisis we face, Noonan argues, is a 'fundamental confusion' about 'who we are' as Americans. The little things—how senators dress or empty office buildings—are all details that matter in a much larger sense. She calls Senator John Fetterman (D., Pa.) a 'different kind of phony' and the atmosphere reveals how Americans 'insist on preeminence … while increasingly ignoring our responsibilities.' Empty office buildings reveal an air of 'post-greatness' that threatens an America like that shown in an Edward Hopper painting, 'empty streets, tables for one, everyone at the bar drinking alone.'"
Speaking of drinking, have you read the new bio of Earl Weaver? Matt Lewis has. He reviews The Last Manager: How Earl Weaver Tricked, Tormented, and Reinvented Baseball by John W. Miller.
"Any book about Weaver is bound to be packed with stories of his legendary run-ins with umpires. He was the first manager in decades to get ejected from a World Series game, somehow managed to get tossed from both games of a doubleheader—twice—and once was even ejected mid-game for smoking in the dugout. (He subsequently had a secret cigarette pocket sewn into his jersey to skirt the rules.) Miller’s book delivers plenty of these epic umpire battles, but I’ll resist spoiling most of them here.
"Behind the theatrics, however, was a guy who viewed the game differently. While everyone else was obsessed with batting averages, Weaver cared more about on-base percentage and timely home runs. He came to despise the sacrifice bunt (why give away an out?). He turned shortstops into power hitters, moving 6’4" Cal Ripken Jr. from third to short and paving the way for future MLB stars like Derek Jeter. He platooned players before it was cool, squeezing 36 homers and 98 RBIs out of a three-man rotation in left field in 1979. This is to say, he re-created star players 'in the aggregate.' Billy Beane and the Moneyball crew should’ve sent him royalty checks.
"Where did this knack for data and analytics come from? Miller suggests it came from his Uncle Bud, a bookie who helped raise him in St. Louis. Whatever the inspiration, Weaver was thinking in probabilities decades before the sabermetric crowd made it standard practice. And he wasn’t just a numbers guy. He was the first manager to use a radar gun. His ingenuity even extended to the field itself. He had the Orioles’ groundskeeper doctor the field—muddying the basepaths to slow fast opponents, and hardening the infield to create tricky hops for bad defenders. It was brilliant, it was petty, and it worked.
"He even helped develop a baseball video game that eventually led to John Madden Football. Think about that: Earl Weaver is at least partially responsible for the most dominant sports video game of all time. Not bad for a guy who looked like he spent his afternoons drinking Pabst Blue Ribbons and screaming at neighborhood kids to stay off his lawn."