Book Review

April 30, 2019

Uncovered: How I Left Hasidic Life and Finally Came Home by Leah Lax

The best memoirs often read like fiction, immersing readers in someone else’s reality. Leah Lax achieves this in Uncovered: How I Left Hasidic Life and Finally Came Home, reformulating the conventional narratives of coming out and escaping Hasidic life.[i] Lax writes a rich story of her exploration of her authentic self, drawing readers in with her vulnerability. Throughout her life, she is torn between being who she is told she is and running away from the restrictive definitions of others, ultimately coming to define herself on her own terms. Uncovered details Lax’s relationship with Hasidic law and life and how she discovered herself within and around them, engaging readers with honesty and emotion.

Lax’s story, chronologically at least, began in a Reform community in Texas, highly immersed in the secular world, where she first learns of and is drawn to the Chabad Lubavitch movement. Raised by two parents experiencing mental illness – her mom showed several signs of depression and her father had gone through treatments that left him vacant – she was left yearning for intimacy, belonging, and purpose. As she discovers this world of structure, this world of love from family, community, and God, she chooses to leave behind her secular family and lifestyle in favor of religion, where an arranged marriage in college sealed her into the Orthodox life. However, she finds that no matter how whole-heartedly she commits herself to her role as wife, teacher, mother – as a Hasidic woman – to be unfulfilling, a burdensome obligation to care for others with little time left to tend to her own needs. When she does turn her attention to her own needs, she begins to discover herself through exploring the boundaries of Hasidic life, as well as the boundaries of life as a woman. It is this journey of self-discovery that leads her away from her husband, away from Hasidism, and into herself.

Something which sets this book apart from other memoirs detailing departure from religious fundamentalism is how Lax captures the complexity of Hasidic life. At times, Lax falls into the pattern of other feminist and queer writings, which vilify fundamentalist religions as agents of patriarchal oppression. Lax does detail aspects of her Hasidic life that leave her feeling childish and without a voice, controlled by halakhah and the expectations of Hasidic society that force her to suppress her own needs and desires. However, this book is not Lax’s stance against Hasidism; she does not claim this to be an accurate and holistic representation of Hasidic life. Her book is a memoir, her own story of how she came to identify herself. Thus, her claim is not that Hasidic life is bad and oppressive, but rather that it was not a home where she felt like she belonged. More than representing Hasidism, Lax is demonstrating her complex relationship with Hasidism, as well as her relationship with her own self, from the perspective of her final position as a lesbian who had chosen to leave that world.

The book is rife with instances of Lax crossing boundaries in an attempt to understand herself. She gradually adopts the boundaries set by Hasidic law, crossing into that world with skirts and wigs and ritual bathing. As she questions her identity and her belonging in Hasidic life, however, she pushes against those very same boundaries that initially brought her comfort. The act of hair-covering is one of the most central of these boundaries, its literal and figurative meanings present even in the book’s title. Early on, the wigs and scarves acquired for her married life are a symbol of her belonging, a certainty in who she is and the role she plays. However, as Lax’s certainty in her Hasidic identity ebbs and flows, so does her adherence to covering her hair. She occasionally allows her scarf to slip back, exposing her hair, until she ultimately discards the scarf altogether, along with the various boundaries set for her by Hasidic life. The wigs and scarves had come to cover more than just hair. For Lax, they represent not Hasidic law, but a false self which she had used to cover up truths about her identity and her past that she was afraid to confront. As she is forced by others and by her own heart to uncover and take ownership of these pieces of her life, she leaves the cover of her Hasidic life and its boundaries behind.

Lax’s book is not an accurate and holistic image of Hasidic life as a woman, or as an LGBT person. Nor does she claim it to be. It is her own personal story, her journey of self-discovery, that happened to lead her into the Hasidic world and then back out again. Thus, it is not very effective as source material on the subject of Hasidism, but very effective as a memoir. Lax is not telling a story about how patriarchal religion silenced her, but how she felt silenced by a lack of identity and an unfulfilled desire to understand herself. In finding and embracing her identity, Lax regains control of her voice, her actions, and herself.

[i] Lax, Leah. Uncovered: How I Left Hasidic Life and Finally Came Home. Berkeley: She Writes Press, 2015.

April 24, 2019

A First Attempt at Reviewing Leah Lax’s “Uncovered: How I Left Hasidic Life and Finally Came Home”

Something which sets this book apart from other memoirs detailing departure from religious fundamentalism is how Lax captures the complexity of Hasidic life. Often, especially in feminist and queer writings, fundamentalist religions are vilified as agents of patriarchal oppression. Lax at times falls into this pattern in detailing the aspects of her Hasidic life that left her feeling childish and without a voice. She lacks control of her body and actions, governed by halakhah, by Rebbes, by her husband, by the expectations of Hasidic society that force her to suppress her own needs and desires. However, she also acknowledges the nuances of that lifestyle. There are times when she feels fulfilled by motherhood and halakhic order. There are times that the women-only spaces that Hasidic life allowed her to occupy brought her joy and peace and belonging. There are times that rituals are filled with spiritual meanings, just as there are times when the rituals are frustratingly empty. Though ultimately Hasidic life becomes a negative place for her, Lax does demonstrate the complexity of Hasidism and her relationship to it, making it seem a more honest portrayal than others might display.

Throughout the course of the book, Lax pushes the boundaries set for her by Hasidic life. The act of hair-covering is one of the most central of these boundaries, holding both literal and figurative meanings throughout the book and even its title. Early on, the wigs and scarves acquired for her married life are a symbol of Lax’s belonging, a certainty in identity. However, as Lax’s certainty in her Hasidic identity ebbs and flows, so does her adherence to covering her hair. At times she wears her wigs and scarves properly, covering her hair completely. Other times she allows her scarf to slip back, exposing her hair, until, ultimately, she discards the scarf just as she discards Hasidism. The wigs and scarves come to cover more than hair. For Leah, these scarves and wigs represent the rules and regulations of Hasidism, which Leah has used to cover up aspects of her identity and her past that she is afraid to confront. As she is forced by others and by her own heart to uncover and take ownership of these pieces of her life, she leaves the cover of Hasidism and their rules behind.

In her memoir, Lax paints an image of what Hasidic life is like for a woman, particularly for a homosexual woman. She recognizes that there are LGBT Hasidim who choose to remain in that world, as she did for a time. She recognizes that hers is not the only story of being LGBT in Hasidic life. However, as a memoir, it is her story. It is a story in which the Hasidic world was ultimately unhealthy and oppressive. Therefore, it is certainly a prejudiced representation of Hasidism, which Lax does not in any way deny. While she is limited by her personal story, she is open about the dishonesty of her Hasidism, and open about the complexity and nuances of such a lifestyle. Lax is not warning readers of the dangers of Hasidism, but rather than dangers of hiding oneself, of covering up the truth. It is the uncovering of her identity, more than the uncovering of her hair, that marks Lax’s journey.

April 11, 2019April 23, 2019

Book Review Update: Research

Throughout Leah Lax’s story, one aspect of prominence in her journey is that of head-covering. At many points, she takes a look at her head, whether it is covered by a hat, a scarf, or nothing at all, whether her hair underneath is shorn or worn long, whether she lets any of it be seen. This concept of covering her head, and subsequently uncovering it, is reflected in the title Uncovered. I find it interesting to follow her personal relationship with these different levels of coverings and what they mean to her, and I am curious about the meaning that it has to others. Therefore, I am looking into researching that topic and have found a few sources that I think will help me, which I am listing here:

Leila Leah Bronner, “From Veil to Wig: Jewish Women’s Hair Covering,” Judaism 42, no.4 (1993).

Simone Schweber, “Donning Wigs, Divining Feelings, and Other Dilemmas of Doing Research in Devoutly Religious Contexts,” Qualitative Inquiry 13, no.1 (2007).

Amy K. Milligan, Hair, Headwear, and Orthodox Jewish Women: Kallah’s Choice (Lanham: Lexington Books, 2014).

April 3, 2019April 23, 2019

Reviews of Leah Lax’s book “Uncovered”

One review that I read on Lax’s book, Uncovered, comes from the American Library Association’s Gay Lesbian Bisexual Transgender Round Table. This very brief review mostly serves to summarize Lax’s book and make it appealing to readers. However, this review glaringly oversimplifies the very complex and nuanced issues that are presented, particularly in relation to Hasidism. Being a review on a GLBT forum, I understand the propensity to paint Lax’s story as an escape from an oppressively strict religion into freedom as a lesbian woman. However, this ignores the appeal of the religion, the factors that brought Lax in and complicated her desire to leave. While Lax did choose to leave Hasidism and was able to feel more herself outside of it, it must be acknowledged that her relationship to her Hasidic life is highly complex and nuanced.

(Ritchie, Cathy. “Book review: Uncovered: How I Left Hasidic Life and Finally Came Home, by Leah Lax.” GLBT Reviews. October 1, 2015. https://www.glbtrt.ala.org/reviews/book-review-uncovered-how-i-left-hasidic-life-and-finally-came-home-by-leah-lax/)

Another review, from Lambda Literary, goes much more in depth. It recognizes the complexity of Lax’s story, how it resists the narratives we’ve come to expect from a lesbian woman’s escape from fundamentalist religion. It acknowledges the appeal of fundamentalist religion and how aspects of that life helped Lax. It also brings up Lax’s background in a much more secular household. What this review alludes to that I think is more central to Lax’s story is her relationships and interactions with others. Her mentally ill parents, her sisters, her early unacknowledged love interests, her female friends within and outside of the Hasidic community. It is these relationships that I believe are central to what drove Lax to Hasidism and what eventually drove her out.

(Enszer, Julie R. “‘Uncovered: How I left Hasidic Life and Finally Came Home’ by Leah Lax.” Lambda Literary. October 8, 2015. https://www.lambdaliterary.org/reviews/10/08/uncovered-how-i-left-hasidic-life-and-finally-came-home-by-leah-lax/)

March 28, 2019April 23, 2019

Book Review Update; “Uncovered: How I Left Hasidic Life and Finally Came Home” by Leah Lax

This memoir follows Leah Lax, a Jewish woman who grew up in a Reform community in Texas who was drawn into the Chabad Lubavitch movement as a young woman and decades later found herself leaving the movement. Lax’s childhood left her searching for intimacy, belonging, and purpose. Both her parents experienced mental illness, with her mom showing several signs of depression and her father having gone through treatments that left him empty and vacant. She hints early on in the novel towards her initial attraction towards women, long before she ever recognized it. In high school, she learned about the Chabad Lubavitch movement and had her first experiences with it, becoming close with a local Hasidic family and attending a couple programs where she felt drawn in by this world of structure, this world which promised love from the community, from the family, and from God, so long as you follow the rules. College brought her further away from her family and closer to religious life, where an arranged marriage sealed her into the Orthodox lifestyle. As she searches for spiritual fulfilment through the words of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, through her relationship with her husband, through raising her children, Lax remains unfulfilled. She begins to discover herself through discussions with her friends and sister, through the act of writing, and through the ritual of mikvah. This journey of self-discovery leads her to identify as a lesbian and leave her husband, leaving the Chabad movement as well. One key idea that consistently resurfaces is the ritual act of bathing in the mikvah. She discusses the spiritual and emotional meaning of this for her, the acknowledgement of sexuality that goes along with it, and how the act changed for her throughout her life.

February 15, 2019April 23, 2019

Book Review Project Proposal

For my Book Review project, I am interested in the memoir Uncovered by Leah Lax. I knew initially that I was interested in the lives of women in more Orthodox Jewish communities, so I began my search in that direction. Using the Trexler Library and Google Scholar websites, I found several books that fit my interests. However, they were not necessarily grabbing my attention very much. I kept searching further and began to question my original subject. I had been focusing on the issue of gender in Judaism, while ignoring the subject of sexuality, the other main topic of this course. So, I decided to switch up my search, continuing to look for books about Orthodox communities, but focusing on experiences of queer members of those communities. While I found a couple, the one that most strongly caught my eye fit into both of my fields of inquiry – the experience of a queer woman in the Orthodox Jewish world. Leah Lax’s memoir, titled Uncovered: How I Left Hasidic Life and Finally Came Home, appears to be the first story told of its kind, that of a gay woman finding, living within, and subsequently leaving the Hasidic community. Leah Lax’s experience not only fits the subject matter of this course, but also seems to be capable of answering my own questions about life within Orthodox communities. The personal nature of this book will likely provide a biased account of Hasidism, but there is much to gain from such story-telling. The emotions that go along with such a unique journey interest me, as I can only imagine those emotions for myself. I hope that from Leah Lax’s telling of what she has gone through, she can enlighten me on her own experience and possibly the experiences that others may have in comparable situations. Though I have grown up within various Jewish communities, I have spent little time interacting with Hasidic communities. They are therefore mostly unknown to me, and I have always been wary of them. This wariness comes partially from my own experiences in Orthodox services, as I find mechitzah’s to be uncomfortable and inconducive to prayers. But mostly, this cautionary feeling comes from what I have heard of Orthodox communities, which may very well have been exaggerations. I hope that from Leah Lax’s memoir, I can gain a deeper understanding of what it is like to be a woman within a Hasidic Orthodox community.

February 9, 2019April 23, 2019

Thoughts on Possible Book Review Topics

For my book review, I think I would like to read into the roles and rules surrounding women in modern Judaism, particularly in Hasidic communities. I would be interested in reading more in detail about Tzniut or possibly the role women in these communities play. In recent decades, women’s rights and responsibilities have been brought to light, with many fighting for change towards equality. However, Hasidic communities are known to be fairly conservative and traditional, so I am curious about how modern women in these communities live. Have there been any significant changes to the role that women play, or what sectors of life they can participate in? Have there been more recent interpretations of Tzniut, possibly written by women rather than men? Or reinterpretations of other laws done by women in Hasidic communities?

Alternatively, I would be interested in studying the stories of biblical women. There are certainly stories of women in the Tanakh that I only vaguely know, or recognize by name, and I am sure that there are more that I am completely unaware of. This would include midrashim, like those we read about Lilith. I think it is important to better understand these stories, so as to better give voice to these and other women in Judaism who have often gone unheard.