Stars of David Read Free

Shema, Judaism’s most hallowed prayer, every night; that Natalie Portman feels ashamed of her Long Island hometown’s materialistic Jewish values; that Kati Marton never quite forgave her parents for hiding the fact that she was Jewish; that Kenneth Cole has misgivings about agreeing to raise his children in his wife’s Catholic faith. My conversation with Leon Wieseltier upended my approach to Judaism because he challenged my justifications for remaining uninformed about it.
    These portraits are micro snapshots: They are private, often boldly candid, idiosyncratic, scattershot, impressionistic. They are not exhaustive, they do not purport to answer the macro questions about assimilation, anti-Semitism, or Jewish continuity. They are highly personal stories from people we feel we kind of know—stories that hopefully peel back a new layer. I was not investigating how many powerful Americans are Jewish, or how much power powerful American Jews have; what interests me is how Jewish those powerful Jews feel they are.
    I intentionally chose not to underscore the commonalities among these voices because I believe they will reverberate differently for each reader. Recurring themes, including the tendency to abandon childhood rituals, the thorny questions of intermarriage, the staunch pride in history, and the ambivalence about Israel, will undoubtedly feel familiar depending on one’s experience.
    I understand the temptation to turn first to chapters about the people one already admires, but some of the best nuggets lie among the least known. Even if you’ve never read a Jerome Groopman piece in
The New
Yorker
, it’s intriguing to hear this doctor’s views on the clash between science and faith. Even if you’re not a
Star Trek
fan, it may surprise you to learn how Leonard Nimoy based Spock’s Vulcan greeting on a rabbinic blessing. Even if you disagree with every word “Dr. Laura” has ever said on the air, you may feel a pang of sympathy for her once you read about the vitriol she endured from other Jews after her conversion to Judaism.
    We are living in a period of heightened religious awareness. Our political leaders cite biblical verses and claim to act in the name of God. Popular magazines run cover stories on spirituality. From Chechnya to Iraq, from Rwanda to Bosnia, we’ve seen how ethnic loyalties can bring out the worst in people. What I’ve attempted to probe in this book is how those Jews who are major players on the stages of American politics, sports, business, and culture feel about their Jewish identity and how it plays out in their daily lives. Just as these public Jews have entered our collective consciousness through their outsized accomplishments and celebrity, we can find parts of ourselves in their honest, intimate personal stories.

Dustin Hoffman

    ALEX BERLINER © BERLINER STUDIO/BE IMAGES
    DUSTIN HOFFMAN VIVIDLY RECALLS ONE AFTERNOON, sitting in his apartment on 11th Street in New York City, talking on the phone to Mike Nichols. The director was trying to convince Hoffman to audition for the part of Benjamin Braddock in
The Graduate
. “Mike was asking, ‘What do you mean you don’t think you’re right for the part?’” Hoffman says. “‘Because you’re Jewish?’ I said, ‘Yeah.’ Mike said, ‘But don’t you think the character is Jewish
inside
?’” Hoffman reminds me that Braddock was originally written as a thoroughbred WASP. “The guy’s name is Benjamin
Braddock
—not Bratowski,” Hoffman says with a smile. “He’s a track star, debating team. Nichols tested everybody for the part—I think he tested Redford, who visually was the prototype of this character.”
    Hoffman finally agreed to fly to L.A. to audition. “That day was a torturous day for all of us,” he says. “I think I was three hours in the makeup chair under the lights. And