Hush

HUSH, Eishes Chayil's pseudonymously written debut novel, is an astonishing look into the highs and lows of an incredibly insular community. It will bring you to your knees, laughing and crying, and is the type of book that you'll want to pass around to everyone, regardless of their age. Gittel's best friend Devory hanged herself when they were ten, and now, at seventeen and on the cusp of being married to a proper Jewish boy, Gittel finds horrible guilty memories surfacing. For Gittel believes that the death was her fault: she should've told someone about Devory's increasing refusal to sleep at home, the way her older brother came into her bed on the night Gittel slept over. But in their intensely Jewish Brooklyn community, to speak of such things is to bring shame upon your family and lower your marriage prospects. But when does the price of keeping one's reputation become too high to pay? Eishes Chayil makes you feel as if you are truly part of Gittel's Jewish community. You have grown up surrounded by these people, raised on the prejudices and traditions and beliefs of the community. Some of them, such as being suspicious of the goyim and rejecting anything that has to do with them, may seem oddly backwards to many readers; however, HUSH is not merely a direct condemnation of the unchanging traditions that killed Devory, but a celebration also. This is a community where arranged marriages before the age of 20 are still the norm, where men and women are separated and have clearly defined domestic roles...and they like that. Instead of feeling like an outsider, we quickly begin to feel like we are part of Gittel's world: Eishes Chayil builds up a thoroughly complete Jewish world without resorting to "as you see, reader" explanations. Devory's sexual abuse and subsequent suicide are at the core of this book, but the book deals less with the actual event itself than with its emotional aftermath on a bystander who is silenced by her community, unable to carry out justice for her friend. The only way to ensure a powerful emotional reaction to Devory's and other Jewish children's sufferings was to provide a sharp contrast to it, which is why most of the book is spent building up the community and culture. Devory's suffering is mentioned almost like an aside, the way a naïve 10-year-old narrator would reasonably note it, and it is in fact this contrast, this appalling lack of attention paid it by the rest of the community, mirrored in the actual narration, is the best way Eishes Chayil could've slammed it into our faces. And yet within this serious story is room for normal 10-year-old fun and games. The chapters alternate between 10-year-old Gittel and 17/18-year-old Gittel, the older narrator struggling with whether or not she should tell others what happened to Devory, the younger flitting in and out of typical preadolescent adventures. Certainly young Gittel's spiritedness adds a layer of heartbreaking fun to this commitment-heavy novel, but

There is widespread coverage in mainstream media on the sexual abuses committed by the clergy within the Catholic Church, especially in the last couple of years. However, it is also quite obvious that sexual abuse is a problem in many other communities, especially in communities which are closed off from the mainstream and where victims have less options in getting the help they so desperately need. In "Hush", author Eishes Chayil (a pseudonym) who is herself a member of the Chassidic community has written a searing narrative focusing on one Chassidic victim's abuse and one witness' torment over a period of six years. Gittel was only ten years old in 2003 when she witnessed her best friend Devory, also ten being abused. The book weaves back and forth between the events of the past in 2003 and Gittel as a grown teenager in 2006, as she prepares to graduate from high school and is about to become eligible for marriage by matchmaking, a tradition in the Chassidic community. Gittel should be happy and elated at the prospect of this new and exciting experience which awaits her, yet she is filled with trepidation and guilt, going back to the events in her past and having to do with her best friend Devory and the tragic consequences from the abuse, a past that haunts Gittel and robs her of peace of mind. The story in essence deals with Gittel's strong sense of guilt and anger at being unable to voice out the truth of those circumstances, being 'hushed' even as a child when she was the sole witness to the abuse of her best friend. It is a revelatory story in that it gives readers, especially those who are not familiar with the beliefs and practices of the Chassidic community, insights into this community. Family reputation is held in high regard, to the extent that any issue/problem that tarnishes that reputation or brings that reputation into question is ignored or silenced. This is especially so in cases of young children who are sexually abused (the focal point of this book - physical abuse and/or domestic violence is not covered here) either by family members or even the rabbis at yeshiva (religious school). These innocent young victims are forced to keep silent - their behavioral problems which stem from having to keep this abuse to themselves (confiding appears to be discouraged, and there is no open discussion of sex within this community as portrayed in this book) has them pegged as problem children. Meantime, poor Gittel, herself an innocent ten-year-old at the time of these horrible events, finds herself in a quandary. She senses that what she witnessed (the abuse) is something that needs to be told - but who will listen? Her mother rails that the family reputation will be sullied with any involvement on their part, and so Gittel goes through the next couple of years on automatic pilot - writing letters to Devory, visiting the local police station where she balks at saying anything that will incriminate herself and her family, all these w