To Choose or to Be Chosen?

The characters in Chaim Potok’s The Chosen struggle with the choice between choosing one’s destiny and fulfilling the destiny chosen for oneself. Potok uses allusions and contradictory language to describe the inner turmoil Danny faces when he is forced to choose between a life as a psychologist, which he chose, and a life as a rabbi, which was chosen for him. In this choice itself is a stark contradiction, as many Jewish teachings oppose fundamental concepts of psychology, a symbol through which Potok emphasizes the struggle Danny faces. When Danny finally does make his decision, it comes down to his father to contradict his own wishes to support his son in his chosen endeavors.

For example, the passage begins with a contradiction: “Let my Daniel become a psychologist.” For the entirety of the story until this point, Reb had ignored if not implicitly discouraged Danny’s secret studying of psychology, and he further contradicts himself when he continues with the words, “He will be a tzaddik for the world.” As he struggles to reconcile himself with the choice his son has made, he oscillates between supporting his son’s chosen study and longing for the destiny he believes Danny was meant for, similar to the way Danny struggled to determine which path was the best to take. Reb then asks Danny, “you will shave off your beard and earlocks?” which Danny affirms, symbolizing his shedding of his familial destiny as rabbi; he then contradicts this when he promises to remain an observer of the Commandments in the life he chooses to lead. When Reb makes the decision to allow his son to choose his path, he does so in “final acknowledgement of [Danny’s] tortured victory.” Potok uses an oxymoron to show that, even when the die is cast, the outcome is neither completely a loss for Reb nor entirely a win for Danny; it is, for both of them, both torturous and a victory. Finally, Reb references the Festival of Freedom when he remarks bitterly, “Today my Daniel is free.” Potok’s allusion to the Jewish exodus to describe Danny’s exodus from his predestined path is perhaps the most stark and most significant symbol of contradiction in the passage, and acts in the novel as a resolution to the conflict Danny has faced in making his choice. Potok’s careful and deliberate use of contradictions and parallels throughout the entire story even further emphasizes the emotional struggle between choosing to follow one’s heart or assume the destiny one was chosen for.

The passage describes the moment when Danny finally does make his choice, but even until the end, Potok’s use of contradiction leaves the reader wondering what the correct choice really is. The theme of choice is obvious not only in Danny’s struggle between his destiny and his passion, but also in Reb’s conflicting responsibilities as a rabbi and as a father. Potok imparts these challenges to the reader through contradictions between his characters, between thematic motifs like religious interpretation and raising children, and between the words he speaks through his characters.

Passage

‘Let my Daniel become a psychologist. I know he wishes to become a psychologist. I do not see his books? I did not see the letters from the universities? I do not see his eyes? I do not hear his soul crying? Of course I know. For a long time I have known. Let my Daniel become a psychologist. I have no more fear now. All his life he will be a tzaddik. He will be a tzaddik for the world. And the world needs a tzaddik.’

Reb Saunders stopped and looked slowly over at his son. Danny still sat with his hand over his eyes, his shoulders trembling. Reb Saunders looked at his son a long time. I had the feeling he was preparing himself for some gigantic effort, one that would completely drain what little strength he had left.

Then he spoke his son’s name. There was silence.

Reb Saunders spoke his son’s name again. Danny took his hand away from his eyes and looked at his father.

‘Daniel,’ Reb Saunders said, speaking almost in a whisper, ‘when you go away to study, you will shave off your beard and earlocks?’

Danny stared at his father. His eyes were wet. He nodded his head slowly.

Reb Saunders looked at him. ‘You will remain an observer of the Commandments?’ he asked softly.

Danny nodded again.

Reb Saunders sat back slowly in his chair. And from his lips came a soft, tremulous sigh. He was silent for a moment, his eyes wide, dark, brooding, gazing upon his son. He nodded his head once, as if in final acknowledgement of his tortured victory.

Then he looked back at me, and his voice was gentle as he spoke. ‘Reuven, I—I ask you to forgive me… my anger… at your father’s Zionism. I read his speech…. I—I found my own meaning for my… brother’s death… for the death of the six million. I found it in God’s will… which I did not presume to understand. I did not—I did not find it in a Jewish state that does not follow God and His Torah. My brother… the others… they could not—they could not have died for such a state. Forgive me… your father… it was too much… too much -’

His voice broke. He held himself tightly. His beard moved faintly with the trembling of his lips.

‘Daniel,’ he said brokenly. ‘Forgive me… for everything. I have done. A—a wiser father… may have done differently. I am not… wise.’

He rose slowly, painfully, to his feet. ‘Today is the—the Festival of Freedom.’ There was a soft hint of bitterness in his voice. ‘Today my Daniel is free…. I must go…. I am very tired…. I must lie down.’

Work Cited

Potok, Chaim. The Chosen. Simon & Schuster, 1967.