By Rivy Poupko Kletenik, JTNews Columnist
Dear Rivy,
I just read The Red Tent, a novel written by Anita Diamant based on the Biblical story of Dinah. It does not quite sound like the story I remember. What is your take on the book?
People often ask me about The Red Tent. I am disturbed by the book — on many levels. Here I will limit myself to only one very strong concern, but first let me remind you that Anita Diamant states outright that her story is a work of fiction. On one hand, that gives her an out, as if to say it doesn’t matter if what has been written is true or not, it’s fiction. However, when one takes a story that is in the Torah and totally alters the core message of the narrative, I think it is irresponsible, especially in this case.
The story upon which Diamant bases her story is the episode recorded in Genesis, Chapter 34, and is usually referred to as the Rape of Dinah. Dinah is the only daughter of Jacob, whose other children become the 12 tribes of Israel.
Many feminist scholars’ chief critique of the storyline is that though Dinah is raped, in the aftermath her rapist’s attitude changes. He displays love for her and wishes to marry her. He then goes through the traditional channels to make arrangements for the marriage by having his father approach Dinah’s father Jacob.
The brothers of Dinah are enraged and scheme to dupe and then brutally kill the men of Shechem for the rape. All the while, Dinah is silent.
Anita Diamant’s and some feminists’ reading of the text wonders about Dinah’s voice. The text does not record one single comment from Dinah herself. They therefore contend that the text has excised Dinah’s experience.
They suggest that her voice has been silenced and denied entirely. They feel that an alternate reading of the text is in order. They posit that Dinah may indeed have been willing to marry her former rapist Hamor and that she was never given that choice. They accuse the text of emphasizing her brothers’ feelings, their honor and the violation of family’s dignity.
In her book, Anita Diamant, develops the theme of Dinah’s romantic attachment to Shechem, named Shalem in her book, to the degree that the rape is totally absent. This to me is the travesty of her book.
Here is how she responds to this issue:
Why did you change the rape to a love affair?
“I could never reconcile the story of Genesis 34 with a rape, because the prince does not behave like a rapist. After the prince is said to have ‘forced’ her (a determination made by the brothers, not by Dinah), he falls in love with her, asks his father to get Jacob’s permission to marry her, and then agrees to the extraordinary, even grotesque demand that he and all the men of his community submit to circumcision.
“Furthermore, I wanted Dinah and all of the women in my story to be active agents in their own lives, not passive pawns or victims.”
The problem with Diamant’s approach is that the text in Hebrew clearly describes a rape. The word used in Genesis 34:2 is “vyeaneha” — “and he tormented her.” This word is used in this form on only one other occasion in the Bible, and that is in the narrative describing the rape of Tamar in the Book of Samuel II 13:14.
Dinah is raped just as Tamar was raped. Dinah has no voice. We do not hear a word from her. That is the most powerful element to the Biblical narrative. One of horrifically tragic aspects of rape is that the victim is rendered voiceless; they are forced and have no say.
This feature of the Torah’s story is a powerful part of the telling. That the Torah tells her story is deeply significant. As a feminist myself, I am profoundly moved that a tale of a woman’s abuse and mistreatment is among the great accounts in Genesis.
The Red Tent erases both of these important teachings. In her story, Diamant deals Dinah a severe posthumous blow in denying her pain and anguish, and in its place providing modern readers with a Harlequinesque love story. I think we have enough of those, and that we can handle the real thing, no matter how rough and uncomfortable.
Anita Diamant is free to write historical fiction and people are free to read it, but let’s not forget to study the original Biblical version as well and let us please not confuse the two.
Dear Rivy,
I read with interest your response to somebody’s letter re: wigs made from hair from Indian women. In your response you stated, “…Orthodox women cover their hair for reasons of modesty.”
I have presented the following question on Jewish web sites but never received a response. Perhaps I can get one from you: If the wig or other hair covering is for reasons of modesty, I don’t understand why the wigs I’ve seen are just as attractive, and perhaps even more so, than the owner’s original hair. Also, I’ve seen some hair coverings that seem attractive.
Here’s the inside story. According to traditional Judaism, married women must cover their hair because their hair is deemed ervah — a part of the body which must be covered. We are not told that women must look unattractive, but rather that their hair must be covered. Head coverings for Jewish women have a long history, and the advent of wigs is fairly recent. Though there are some authorities critical of wigs who forbid them completely or limit their length and appearance, most authorities find them acceptable and some even prefer them over scarves or hats. If you are interested in more about this issue, I recommend a wonderful new book by Lynn Schreiber titled Hide & Seek: Jewish Women and Hair Covering.
The book presents most of the Jewish legal sources on head covering and then presents chapters written by a number of women on their experience of covering their hair. In honor of your question we present a new picture with the column!