If All The seas Were Ink

Daf Yomi, the practice of learning a dedicated page of the Talmud every day, is an experience that unifies Jews across the globe. Whether you study alone, in a yeshiva, via podcast or chavruta, you are literally on the same page as thousands of others engaging in the same daily practice. Ilana Kurshan’s memoir, If All The Seas Were Ink, further drives that point home by chronicling Kurshan’s life durning one seven year Daf Yomi cycle. 

As a woman, a group traditionally excluded from learning Talmud but now actively contributing to scholarship in many communities, Kurshan’s experience felt unique to me. She related the Talmud to her own life which resulted in such hilarity as Rabbi themed Shabbat dishes and such poignancy as learning Tractate Gittin – the laws of Jewish divorce- while processing her own divorce. 

No knowledge of Talmud is necessary to understand the book. In fact, I was more confused by the constant literary references than I was by any of the Talmudic quotes. To be fair, that’s just part and parcel of the experience of viewing the Talmud through Kurshan’s eyes. She advocates for each learner bringing their own distinct experiences to the page and her stories make it clear she relates to the world through classic works of literature. I can appreciate that, even if our taste in books differs. (I’m more genre than literary) My fellow writers will also enjoy immediately being able to decipher which literary agency Kurshan worked for even though she never mentions the name. Plus, the Frankfurt book fair booths as metaphor for Sukkot booths was oddly apt.

My favorite anecdote was an argument Kurshan had on a bus with an elderly Jewish woman. Kurshan preferred to stand while placing her groceries on a seat. The elderly woman said this was selfish as the seat should be given to a person and not bags. Kurshan replied that it was given to a person – her- and she was choosing to use it for her bags instead of herself as this made her more comfortable. Immediately, I could see myself arguing both points. Nobody was right, but nobody was wrong. In Talmudic terms, it was a real “Taiku” moment. 

“Taiku,” is the phrase used to denote that an argument is being tabled indefinitely due to an inability to find an equitable solution. Nobody is wrong, but similarly, nobody emerges the victor. Instead, all parties agree to wait until the messiah comes to adjudicate between them. Which may not be so practical on issues of Jewish law, but it certainly comes in handy. Because Talmud is intended to be a back and forth. An argument between esteemed colleagues as they decipher Gods law. Judaism is not a stagnant practice. It demands active participation. Although part of me could not help but wonder if maybe the messiah has been taking so long to show up because they are dreading the enormous list of arguments awaiting them when they arrive. 

That thought is possibly a bit heretical, but it fits the overall tone of the book. Because Kurshan does not shy away from asking tough questions or bringing modernity to the text, going so far as to reconcile with various gender practices of Talmudic times by noting that according to the definition used in the Talmud, she might qualify as a man. 

I was enticed to perhaps pick up a Talmud too and draw my own conclusions. Which is the greatest gift. Daf Yomi is meant to unify through shared experience of Jewish texts. This book definitely fits the bill. 

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E Broderick is a writer and speculative fiction enthusiast. When not writing she enjoys epic games of trivial pursuit and baking. She currently lives in the U.S. but is eagerly awaiting the day a sentient spaceship offers to take her traveling around the galaxy.