People of the Book: Reading October 7 and Beyond

The author’s stack of books about 10/7.

Family lore has it that I was reading by the age of two, which perhaps is fitting, since Jews are known as “People of the Book.” But reading has always been a huge part of my life, for as long as I can remember. I have always had a book with me, even as a child, in case I had time to read. Now, if you look in my tote bag, I’ll probably have two or three, just in case that ever-elusive “free time” shows up.

Whenever there has been anything that bothers me, upsets me, or interests me, I hit the books. I will read everything I can about the topic at hand. I will craft personal syllabi and reading lists to learn more. Maybe this is to keep anxiety at bay; maybe it’s to feel more in control or have some sort of mastery over the situation, or maybe it’s just sheer curiosity.

On October 7, as I watched what was happening in Israel from the United States, my heart dropped and I immediately knew in my gut that this was something different. This was a pogrom, designed to awaken generational trauma embedded in our bones, in our very cells, even if we didn’t realize it; even if we thought we were safe or immune here in the States. It awakened memories of stories I’d been told over and over in day school; stories I came to think were designed to scare us, but later realized they were warnings and instructions.

What I was watching that weekend (and even now, to be honest) defied logic; it defied belief. And so I read. I read every article I could, every Times of Israel blog, every update, every story. Stories of survivors from the kibbutzim and from Nova, stories from families of those killed or kidnapped, stories from those in the North having to evacuate, and stories of those sheltering for hours, not knowing the extent of what was happening. Stories of Shabbat and holiday services interrupted, stories of keeping children and babies quiet and distracted. Stories of all-women battalions fighting off terrorists, of a Druze mom saving her village, of a grandmother baking cookies to survive.

And now, almost a year later, books are starting to be published. In some ways, it feels too soon, too raw. There are no endings to these books; we are still in the middle of the story, with 101 of our brothers and sisters still in Gaza at the time of this writing, and with hundreds of thousands of Israelis in the North and the South still displaced from their homes, families of soldiers waiting for them to return, and now a ground operation in Lebanon. We have not even celebrated our first Rosh Hashanah yet. But somehow the days still pass, reminding us that life is moving forward; reminding us that it is urgent and necessary to tell these stories.

There is Lee Yaron’s book 10/7: 100 Human Stories; an immersive book illustrating communities and people impacted that day, braided with the larger contextual history of the Israeli/Palestinian conflict as well as the development of Hamas and its rise to power. Amir Tibon’s book The Gates of Gaza: A Story of Betrayal, Survival, and Hope in Israel’s Borderlands tells Tibon’s story of how his father helped to rescue his family at Kibbutz Nahal Oz, after driving down from Tel Aviv, alongside dissections of political and social systemic failures and the history of the region. Koren’s collection of stories, One Day in October: Forty Heroes, Forty Stories, gives readers a glimpse into 40 stories that took place over that 24-hour period; each story a world: stories of first responders, of Nova partygoers, of kibbutzniks, mothers, fathers, and loved ones. Though there is devastation in these books, there is also hope. So much hope, and a refusal to give up on the future.

One other book that is not directly about October 7 but its subject is tied into the current Israel-Hamas war, is Yardena Schwartz’s new book, Ghosts of a Holy War: The 1929 Massacre in Palestine that Ignited the Arab-Israeli Conflict. I haven’t read it yet, but have heard nothing but wonderful things about it and how understanding this history is important.

I have read the first two and am reading Koren’s collection now. I cannot stop reading, almost a year later, as I try to make sense of all of this, still. There are so many stories to be told, though I’m not sure I will ever make sense of what happened on October 7. But I will read them all.