Parsha for the Song Folk: Lech Lecha, or Only In Israel

Lech Lecha is the parsha of parshiyot for Israeli folk music. It's about going to the Land of Israel for the first time, for G-d's sake. Nothing else in the parsha--Sdom and Amora, the war with all the kings, brit milah, Hagar and Ishmael--comes close to getting as much press as the sedra's first two words.

So what on Earth was so important about going to this newly-Promised Land? What was in Israel that Avraham couldn't find in Mesopotamia?

Lots!

Kibbutzim, moshavim, orange groves, Jerusalem of Gold and more. Let lyricist Ehud Manor and composer Nurit Hirsch explain what is "Only In Israel":

Parsha for the Song Folk: Noah, Hero of the Mammoths and Shibutahs

Well, folks, it's been a while. But, joyously, we've started a whole new cycle of Torah, as we tend to do.

In honor of Parashat Noah, enjoy this thrilling Matti Caspi-Shokolad/Minta/Mastik collaboration:



The song describes Noah gathering all the animals, and being quite the awesome creature-savior/caretaker. However, once the rain stops, the animals are sick of each other and are all clamoring to exit the ark. Of course, the song wouldn't be as fresh without lyricist Yehoram Tahor-Lev's compelling choice of animals to include in the refrain:

The lion and the mammoth,
The hippopotamus and the shibutah.

So, what the heck is a shibutah?

According to the Talmud, it's an usually tasty fish from the Mesopotamian region. So tasty it tastes like meat. A few years back, the Jerusalem Post featured one man's hunt for the elusive poisson. You can read about it here (hat tip to Prof. Shahak for the link). Enjoy!

Now, I know we missed Bereishit--if you need some closure from last week, I recommend the song appropriately titled "Bereishit":



The wistful lyrics, by master poet Ehud Manor, start like this:

בראשית היו שמיים
בראשית היה הים כחול
בראשית היו לי יום ולילה לילה
שעות הרבה כמו חול
בראשית היתה הארץ
דשא עשב רך כשי לה שי לה
בראשית

גן בעדן גן בלי שער
משמיים גשם טוב ניתך
אלוהים היה רחום עם שחר
ולמשמרת נתן הוא לי אותך לי אותך

In English translation (my own):

In the beginning, there were skies
In the beginning, the sea was blue
In the beginning, I had day and night (night)
Hours numerous as sand
In the beginning there was the Earth, [with]
Soft grass like a gift to her
In the beginning

A garden in Eden, a garden without a gate
From the heavens, a good rain flowed
G-d was merciful with foundation
And as a guardian He gave to me you (to me you)...

However, even in the song, once a certain fruit ripens--it has already become evening, and night.

Parsha for the Song Folk - Bo

Sometimes the haftarah contains linguistic parallels to the Torah portion. With this in mind, I bring you "Emor Shalom"--lyrics by Ehud Manor (who else), music by Mati Caspi, sung by the ravishing "Chocolate, Menta Mastik," whose painfully 70s intro will be obvious from the get-go:



"Bo, bo, bo hayom! Emor shalom!"

Enjoy!

To My Most Illustrious Fan: Amazon

Dear Amazon,

It's been a long time since we last spoke. I am sorry if your feelings have been hurt. Even though I gave you my credit card number when I was researching Jews during the Civil War era, I didn't really expect it to go beyond that. I know I have an account with you and everything, but I actually just joined Barnes and Noble...I appreciate your reading the previous blogpost and offering to sell me Sue Fishkoff's book on the Lubavitcher Rebbe, which I actually have flipped through in the past, but I want you to stop. I get most of my loving at the library.

No hard feelings.

Yaelle

Book Candy: Brain Food for the T.V. Lover

I have discovered a new literary genre. I call it Book Candy. Though I am naturally attracted to quality trash like "America's Next Top Model," "16 and Pregnant" and "Glee" (though Sue Sylvester is NOT trash and never will be), I feel unfulfilled after spending hours of my life on it.

Enter Book Candy. That quick 200 pages of journalism-style biography. Or 160 pages vindicating alternative life choices. It's like reality TV in book form. And I love it. It's quick. It's entertaining. It distracts me from my responsibilities and helps me go over my grammar.

So far I've read "Unchosen: The Secret Lives of Hasidic Rebels" and "Chicken Soup With Chopsticks: A Jew's Search for Truth in an Interfaith Relationship." What will be next, you ask? Well, I'm hoping to continue with "Mystics, Mavericks and Merrymakers" (about the lives of Hasidic girls), and gently ease myself into good old Jonathan Safran Foer and Franz Kafka.

Indeed, my friends. This rocky mountain kreplach fiend has paused from prowling Megavideo. She's grabbed her library card by the bar code and shall consume Book Candy forever more. Or, at the very least, until "Glee" and "America's Next Top Model" return to prime-time.

Parsha for the Song Folk: Vayetzei

All who know me know my biggest weakness: Israeli folk music. But 'tis not a weakness, gentle reader! Last year, I wrote an editorial about my spiritual-intellectual connection to the genre. Israeli folk music, at its most dazzlingly haunting, captures a peculiarly Jewish, Zionist spirit of resilience, spirituality, nostalgia and love. Song lyrics are often laced--sometimes saturated--with biblical references, as becomes quite evident to the lucky listener making even the briefest foray into this alternate, better world.

It struck me that I could put this blog to good use by posting a new, parsha-themed Israeli folk song each week.

Two years ago, I was having a conversation with one of my favorite people about tragic Tanakh figures, and all the obvious characters came up: Iyov, Yirmiyahu, Shimshon. Then, I suggested an individual that took my companion aback: Leah.

Leah. Yaakov's first wife; the older sister of Jacob's second--and favorite--wife, Rachel. Leah. The one who is fertile, who bears six of the twelve tribes, the only wife of four who is buried next to Yaakov in Ma'arat HaMakhpelah in Hevron.

Yet Leah is also the despised wife, the one who is never quite able to capture a share of Yaakov's love equal to that he harbors for Rachel. In this week's parsha, Leah gives each of her newborn children names that symbolize her anguish: "G-d has seen I am unloved"; "Now my husband will surely love me"; "Now my husband will praise me, for I have given him six sons". The names of the Tribes of Israel are charged with unrequited love.

Apparently, I'm not the only one haunted by Leah's story. "Ani Ohev Otakh Leah," written by Ehud Manor, one of Israel's greatest lyricists, is the love song that never was--the love song from Yaakov to Leah. Our sages tell us that Leah and Rachel were identical in every way but one: Rachel's eyes were prettier than Leah's because Leah used to spend so much time crying over her expected marriage to Yaakov's older, evil twin, Esav. By a stroke of luck (and deception), however, Leah too ended up married to the righteous Yaakov. This interpretation finds expression in the chorus of Manor's wistful masterpiece:

הנה ימים רבים חלפו
ושתי ידי עייפו
ועינייך מה יפו
כעיני רחל.
אני אוהב אותך לאה
אוהב אותך גאה
אם אשכח אותך לאה
שמי לא ישראל

"Many years have passed
And my two hands have grown tired;
And oh! how your eyes have become beautiful,
Like the eyes of Rachel.
I love you Leah,
Love you, proud.
If I forget you, Leah,
My name is not Israel."

Below is a clip of the whole song. Enjoy, and Shabbat shalom!

Love Potion Number Nine

If you had the power to create a love potion, would you use it? Who would you use it on? Would you share the recipe?

...Come to think of it, have you ever done any of these things?