“The question is easy enough. What does it feel like to be Jewish within the world-wide diaspora of Jewishness? The answer feels quite simple. It feels like me.”
So begins Jenny Diski’s unflinching assessment of a lifetime of reckoning with her religious identity and its ultimate rewards and disappointments. Facing a diagnosis of inoperable cancer of the lung, the British writer finds that the question is not as easy as it seemed.
On Shavuot, in celebration of a great gift that Jews are commanded to rejoice in, Tablet is publishing only this great gift, from a woman painfully close to the abyss.