“Can you picture, in your mind, what Anna Karenina looks like?”
With this question, author Peter Mendelsund begins his book, “What We See When We Read.”
To any reader of Tolstoy’s classic novel, there can only be one answer to this question: “Yes. As if she were standing here in front of me.” Tolstoy’s clear and expert prose creates the sense that one is watching the novel unfold through a polished window. Anna’s physical appearance — her dark, curling hair; her flashing eyes; her full arms — is palpably experienced.
But then Mendelsund pushes further: “What does her nose look like?”
Suddenly, Anna’s palpable presence reveals itself to be nothing but a puff of air. What we pictured in our minds collapses into a heap of disorganized pixels — a vague and noseless suggestion of a person.
The act of picturing is a mystery. Compounding that mystery is the fact that our intuitions about picturing are almost all wrong. Commonly, we suppose that our mind’s eye is witness to some interior stage or screen, upon which the books we read and the stories we hear play out like Hollywood movies.
Upon even the slightest examination, however, this proves false. The emperor has no nose. What truly happens in our minds when we read is much vaguer, and much less visual, than we would like to believe.
In Parashat Tetzaveh, G-d continues commanding Moses concerning the ritual objects for the sacrificial service. The tabernacle, the menorah and the table of the bread of presence have already been described. God’s attention turns now from sacred architecture to sacred attire. Most of the parashah concerns the materials for the High Priest’s garments, as well as the methods by which they are to be assembled and the ways they are to be arranged upon the body of the priest.
We are being asked by the Torah to picture. This is no small thing. It wasn’t until I had read it through three times that I felt I could transform the words of the parashah into a clear and meaningful series of mental images.
We are being asked by the Torah to picture. This is no small thing.
During my first reading, I saw only a blurred collage, gleaming with gold, shot through with veins of blue, purple and crimson yarn, and luminescent with the glow of precious stones. The names of the stones themselves — carnelian, chrysolite, emerald, turquoise, sapphire, amethyst, hyacinth, agate, crystal, beryl, lapis lazuli and jasper — were sweet on my tongue, but not since the days of my childhood rock collection would I have been able to picture each one individually. Instead, what I saw in my mind’s eye was a heap of jewels, glowing in all the hues of the rainbow, like a glinting treasure chest in a child’s cartoon.
During my second reading, I exerted myself to create a viable mental image — assembling the breastplate upon the ephod, hooking it into the epaulettes and topping off the whole thing with a turban and a golden diadem. Still, many details of the text confounded this image rather than clarified it.
During my third reading, I caved and decided to consult an image of the priestly garments found in an illustrated children’s bible from 1966, which I had recently found out on the street. Finally, I felt that I could see what the text wanted me to see.
“Visualizing,” writes Mendelsund, “seems to require will.” It also requires effort, and it is astounding to imagine that Moses, hearing this stream of complex instructions, was able to assemble it all properly in his mind. Indeed, there is an element of the miraculous about it.
In Parashat Tetzaveh, God commands Moses in a holy act of picturing — of seeing clearly with the mind’s eye what has not yet been brought into being.
His ability to do so is what separates prophets from idle dreamers.
Matthew Schultz is the author of the essay collection “What Came Before” (2020). He is a rabbinical student at Hebrew College in Newton, Massachusetts.
Unscrolled, Parashat Tetzaveh: The Emperor Has No Nose
Matthew Schultz
“Can you picture, in your mind, what Anna Karenina looks like?”
With this question, author Peter Mendelsund begins his book, “What We See When We Read.”
To any reader of Tolstoy’s classic novel, there can only be one answer to this question: “Yes. As if she were standing here in front of me.” Tolstoy’s clear and expert prose creates the sense that one is watching the novel unfold through a polished window. Anna’s physical appearance — her dark, curling hair; her flashing eyes; her full arms — is palpably experienced.
But then Mendelsund pushes further: “What does her nose look like?”
Suddenly, Anna’s palpable presence reveals itself to be nothing but a puff of air. What we pictured in our minds collapses into a heap of disorganized pixels — a vague and noseless suggestion of a person.
The act of picturing is a mystery. Compounding that mystery is the fact that our intuitions about picturing are almost all wrong. Commonly, we suppose that our mind’s eye is witness to some interior stage or screen, upon which the books we read and the stories we hear play out like Hollywood movies.
Upon even the slightest examination, however, this proves false. The emperor has no nose. What truly happens in our minds when we read is much vaguer, and much less visual, than we would like to believe.
In Parashat Tetzaveh, G-d continues commanding Moses concerning the ritual objects for the sacrificial service. The tabernacle, the menorah and the table of the bread of presence have already been described. God’s attention turns now from sacred architecture to sacred attire. Most of the parashah concerns the materials for the High Priest’s garments, as well as the methods by which they are to be assembled and the ways they are to be arranged upon the body of the priest.
We are being asked by the Torah to picture. This is no small thing. It wasn’t until I had read it through three times that I felt I could transform the words of the parashah into a clear and meaningful series of mental images.
During my first reading, I saw only a blurred collage, gleaming with gold, shot through with veins of blue, purple and crimson yarn, and luminescent with the glow of precious stones. The names of the stones themselves — carnelian, chrysolite, emerald, turquoise, sapphire, amethyst, hyacinth, agate, crystal, beryl, lapis lazuli and jasper — were sweet on my tongue, but not since the days of my childhood rock collection would I have been able to picture each one individually. Instead, what I saw in my mind’s eye was a heap of jewels, glowing in all the hues of the rainbow, like a glinting treasure chest in a child’s cartoon.
During my second reading, I exerted myself to create a viable mental image — assembling the breastplate upon the ephod, hooking it into the epaulettes and topping off the whole thing with a turban and a golden diadem. Still, many details of the text confounded this image rather than clarified it.
During my third reading, I caved and decided to consult an image of the priestly garments found in an illustrated children’s bible from 1966, which I had recently found out on the street. Finally, I felt that I could see what the text wanted me to see.
“Visualizing,” writes Mendelsund, “seems to require will.” It also requires effort, and it is astounding to imagine that Moses, hearing this stream of complex instructions, was able to assemble it all properly in his mind. Indeed, there is an element of the miraculous about it.
In Parashat Tetzaveh, God commands Moses in a holy act of picturing — of seeing clearly with the mind’s eye what has not yet been brought into being.
His ability to do so is what separates prophets from idle dreamers.
Matthew Schultz is the author of the essay collection “What Came Before” (2020). He is a rabbinical student at Hebrew College in Newton, Massachusetts.
Did you enjoy this article?
You'll love our roundtable.
Editor's Picks
Israel and the Internet Wars – A Professional Social Media Review
The Invisible Student: A Tale of Homelessness at UCLA and USC
What Ever Happened to the LA Times?
Who Are the Jews On Joe Biden’s Cabinet?
You’re Not a Bad Jewish Mom If Your Kid Wants Santa Claus to Come to Your House
No Labels: The Group Fighting for the Political Center
Latest Articles
Campus Rioters are not Just Dangerous and Antisemitic. They’re Also Phony.
Divining the Future
When Hatred Spreads
More than 300 Clergy Members Sign Letter Asking Columbia University To Protect Jewish Students.
If You Can Invite One More to Your Passover Seder, You Should
The Threat of Islamophobia
Culture
Dr. Nicole Saphier Reflects on Motherhood and Jewish Advocacy
Make Felt Seder Plate Elements
Oct. 7 Events to Be Depicted in New Stage Show
Shani Seidman: Manischewitz, Passover Memories and Matzo Brei
A Passover Call to Action for College and University Presidents
The extreme tactics of those creating these encampments and related protests are unacceptable at every level.
A Public Message to the COO of Columbia
You have the opportunity to show your kids, show your family, that when the time came, you stood up for what’s right.
Jewish Students Are Paying the Price of Columbia’s Failures
The Columbia administrators have clearly lost control. Their cowardice and inability to act has ceded the campus to the antisemitic mobs, who delight in making Jewish students feel unwelcome and unsafe.
For This Yale Alumnus, My Alma Mater Is Forever Tarnished
What we are seeing at Yale and other so-called “elite” or Ivy League universities has brought shame to American society.
Passover Goodies
These treats are great for Passover or anytime … and are matzah and flour-free!
Hollywood
Spielberg Says Antisemitism Is “No Longer Lurking, But Standing Proud” Like 1930s Germany
Young Actress Juju Brener on Her “Hocus Pocus 2” Role
Behind the Scenes of “Jeopardy!” with Mayim Bialik
Podcasts
Shani Seidman: Manischewitz, Passover Memories and Matzo Brei
Joan Nathan: “My Life in Recipes” and Pecan Lemon Torte
More news and opinions than at a
Shabbat dinner, right in your inbox.
More news and opinions than at a Shabbat dinner, right in your inbox.