Articles

  • 1 month ago | audacity.substack.com | Kaveh Akbar |Danny M. Lavery |Regina Porter |Shalom Auslander

    It’s not that I’m in a reading rut but I spent 2024 starting a lot of books I have not yet finished. I will finish them because I am an avowed reading completist but I do not know when. It’s frustrating that I’m struggling to find a book that I want to finish. Is it me? Is it the books? Both? I don’t know. If there was a recurring theme in the books I did finish last year, it was this sense of cringe, of the profound discomfort of watching people make absolutely terrible decisions over and over again.

  • Jan 10, 2025 | persuasion.community | Shalom Auslander

    “In the goodness of my heart I am bringing him to the fair, where I hope to get a good price for him. The truth is you can’t drive such creatures away. The best thing would be to kill them.”- Pozzo, Waiting for GodotThe murder of United Healthcare CEO Brian Thompson on December 4, 2024 ignited a furious and macabre debate: did he deserve it? According to a recent Emerson poll, young voters aged 18-29 are split, 40% saying the killing was acceptable and 40% saying it was not.

  • Sep 17, 2024 | ft.com | Shalom Auslander

    When I was younger, I loved fancy pens.

  • Jul 30, 2024 | shtetl.org | Shalom Auslander

    In his new memoir, Feh, which was published last Tuesday from Penguin Random House, Haredi misfit author Shalom Auslander looks back at his time as a child at Yeshiva of Spring Valley in the 1970s. Auslander, whose previous memoir Foreskin’s Lament also explored his Orthodox background, centers his new book around the idea of “feh.” This Yiddish interpolation stands for Auslander as the story, which he says he first heard as a child, that says everyone sucks, especially himself.

  • Jul 26, 2024 | tabletmag.com | Shalom Auslander

    Once upon a time, Rabbi Scold had told us, Jacob wrestled with an angel. They wrestled all night, hour after hour, from evening to morning, neither one willing to relent or surrender, but it was nothing compared to how I wrestled that evening with my mother’s pantyhose. For what seemed like hours, I tried to figure out how to get the damned things on, as it was impossible to tell the front from the back, or even if there was a front or back. I grew irritated, angry. Would a label have killed them?

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