Cut Me Loose

Being Jewish is a fundamental part of my identity, but being raised in a small midwestern city with no Orthodox community outside of a single Lubavitch family, I had very little insight into the yawning divide between me, what Leah Vincent refers to as a “Lox-and-bagels, my son the doctor, Woody Allen Jew” (except I hate Woody Allen) and Charedi (Ultra-orthodox) Jews. I kind of always assumed that Charedim were like me, just more. Yes, more synagogue, more Kosher, more Shabbat observing, but also more of the cultural tropes of American Jewry: highly educated, wealthy, liberal.

So, if you've ever actually met a Charedi Jew, you'll know that I was in for a surprise when I moved to Philadelphia for medical training and joined the pediatric hospital that provides care for the children of Lakewood, NJ. I realized that the gulf between me and the Orthodoxy wasn't a matter of degree, but was a true cultural divide. I was fascinated by the commitment to making Judaism the sole, core identity, avoiding secular books, TV and education in many cases. And I was stunned by families that avoided ever visiting their children with genetic diseases, in case the rumor got out in their community that they had a genetic disease in the family. My bosses had to explain first the entire concept of Shidduch (Jewish matchmaking) and then that the presence of a genetic disease in the family would affect Shidduch for all of the siblings, even though we knew that they weren't carriers.

What I'm saying is that I had the context to understand why Leah's family cut her off when she started to slide off the derech. Nonetheless, her tale is heart-wrenching. I would find myself getting frustrated with her decisions and then she'd slip in a note about her age. Most of the book takes place over the course of her teen years: she leaves her family home around 15 to go to England, gets sent to live independently in Israel at 16 and then is expected to be completely independent, including financially independent in NYC at 17. To the secular world that summary alone is startling.

I wish Vincent had spent more time on the relationship between her and her parents, her and Judaism, and her life prior to leaving the Charedi community. The bulk of the book is a very awkward series of, at best, semi-consensual sexual encounters written full of uncomfortable details. These depictions are sad, but ultimately (and sadly) redundant. I think most people reading this book are like me: deeply curious about Charedi life and looking for reflections from the inside. I appreciate that Vincent has instead crafted a book that is more of a memoir for her, but it feels a little like a waste to me. She has written numerous articles that are much more reflective pieces and discuss her relationship with the Charedi community now, and her relationship with Judaism. I think more of that incorporated into Cut Me Loose would have made for a more complete book.