Features
Rabbi Matthew Leibl explaining the Jewish origins of popular xmas songs
By BERNIE BELLAN This article first appeared in the Dec. 23, 2019 issue of The Jewish Post & News. Since being posted to our website almost two years ago, it’s become one of our most widely read articles – and the Youtube video of Rabbi Matthew singing xmas songs written by Jewish composers has been viewed hundreds of times.If you want to watch the video, you can see it at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bWyZ1djqxaI
Here’s my story from Dec/2019: It’s hard to believe, but it was only two years ago that Rabbi Matthew Leibl entertained a packed room of mostly seniors in the Adult Lounge of the Asper Campus with a medley of famous xmas songs – all written by Jewish composers.
Rabbi Matthew Leibl is not your usual rabbi – but he sure can command a room.
With all his considerable talents – as a clever and always witty speaker, as a terrific keyboardist and pleasant singer, and with a range of interests from that go anywhere from Jewish scholarship to sports, Rabbi Matthew can both entertain – and educate, often simultaneously.
It came as no surprise, therefore, that on Tuesday, December 10, 2019, the adult lounge of the Asper Campus was packed – entirely with older adults mind you, who were there to hear Rabbi Matthew give a presentation that was titled “Oy to the World: The Jewish Contribution to Christmas”. (The name of the event itself was a pretty good clue that this was not going to be your typical “drash”.)
It turns out that Rabbi Matthew did do his research for what was to follow. He unveiled a seamless narrative, mixing well-known Christmas songs with stories about their composers, combining everything into a narrative that demonstrated how so many Jews have influenced our modern attitudes to Christmas.
Of course, nothing that Rabbi Matthew does is predictable, so when he greeted the audience with the first few lines of “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas”, I would dare say that most of us there were expecting him to reveal that well-known song was written by a Jew.
Aha – gotcha! It was written by Meredith Wilson – most famous undoubtedly for having written “The Music Man” – or, as Rabbi Matthew announced to the audience: “not a Jew”.
The tone was set, therefore, for what would turn out to be an evening of surprises, in which Rabbi Matthew would sing a well-known Christmas song, and then follow the song with what was almost always an unexpected story, either about how the song was written, or about how it came to be universally popular (often when the composer himself thought it would be a flop).
But first, Rabbi Matthew told another funny story about how, as a child, he misinterpreted the name of a well-known Christmas carol: “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing”. To his mind, Rabbi Matthew said, he thought it was a song about his “Zaida Harold” (the late Harold Pollock) – “Hark, the ‘Harold” Angels Sing”.
At that point, Rabbi Matthew launched into playing – and singing, words to a song that just didn’t seem familiar. Here’s what he sang:
The sun is shining, the grass is green
The orange and palm trees sway
There’s never been such a day
In Beverly Hills, L.A
But it’s December the twenty-fourth
And I am longing to be up North
Can you guess that those are the words in the introduction to “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas”? As Rabbi Matthew explained it, however, we never actually hear the introduction to the song on any of its many recordings – and the image that introduction evokes is hardly one of a “white Christmas”. In fact, time and time again, as we were to learn, songs that have come to conjure up images of snow-lined streets, fireplaces blazing, and other such stereotypical Christmas images, were actually composed in Los Angeles – often during heat waves when various composers were all trying to cool themselves off by imagining cold winter scenes!
In any event, “White Christmas” was composed by Irving Berlin – born Israel Isidore Beilin in 1888 in Russia. A prodigy at an early age, Berlin’s first big hit was “Alexander’s Ragtime Band”. Berlin is considered one of the greatest American songwriters of all time. With so many hits to his name, it’s hard to realize they were all written by the same person. For instance, Berlin also wrote “God Bless America” (in 1938), which was a way for him to show his appreciation for the country that had taken in his family.
“White Christmas”, as Rabbi Matthew told the audience, was originally written in 1940 for the movie, “Holiday Inn”, which wasn’t released until 1942. (The introduction was scrapped when it was sung in the movie.)
The song, however, sung by Bing Crosby, was first played on the radio on Christmas day, 1941. It became an immediate sensation – and the Bing Crosby version went on to sell over 50 million copies, making it the best-selling Christmas single of all time. (Altogether, various different recordings of the song have sold over 100 million copies.)
Not only is “White Christmas” a song that tugged at the heartstrings at a time when America had just been plunged into what would become the second most costly war (in terms of lives lost) after the American Civil War, as Rabbi Matthew explained, it also set two other precedents: It was the first commercial success for a Christmas song and it was the first-ever secular Christmas song.
The song also set the pattern for future composers to follow, in terms of its beat which, as Rabbi Matthew noted, was “A,A,B,A”. “The time repeats, but the words change,” Rabbi Matthew explained.
Having begun with what is undoubtedly the most successful Christmas song of all time, Rabbi Matthew then took a step back in time to play another song that wasn’t really a Christmas song in the sense that it doesn’t mention the name “Christmas” at all, but nonetheless has come to be associated with the Christmas season: “Walking in a Winter Wonderland”, music by Felix Bernard, and written in 1934.
“The words to the song are terrible,” Rabbi Matthew suggested. He gave as an example these lines:
“He’ll say ‘are you married?’, we’ll say ‘no, man’‘
But you can do the job when you’re in town’ “
Moving back to the 1940s again – which turned out to be a most productive decade when it came to composing great Christmas songs, Rabbi Matthew sang “I’ll be home for Christmas”, released in 1943, music by Walter Kent (a.k.a. Walter Kaufman). The song was also first recorded by Bing Crosby.
As with “White Christmas”, this song captured the mood of America, with its famous final line “I’ll be home, if only in my dreams.” At the time, while America was fully at war with Japan in the Pacific, hundreds of thousands of American soldiers were also in England preparing for what would turn out to be D-day the next year.
As it was, there was also quite a bit of controversy attached to “I’ll be home for Christmas”, as another composer, by the name of “Buck Ram” (whose name I can’t help but think would be great for a male porn star), claimed he had met Walter Kent and lyricist Kim Gannon at a bar, where he had given them a copy of the song. His name was eventually added to the record label as a co-writer and he received royalties.
The next song on Rabbi Leibl’s list was “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire” (or as it is actually titled, “The Christmas Song”), music by Mel Tormé (whose name was really Tormé!). As I noted at the beginning of this article, this was one of those songs written in L.A. during a torrid summer heat wave.
Rabbi Leibl quoted Mel Tormé as having said this about his song: “It was not one of my favourites, but it was my annuity!” The song is also noteworthy for being the first song ever to drop the name “Santa Claus” into it. (Boy, you have to wonder what Christmas would be like if so many Jews hadn’t fashioned its modern-day image.)
Keeping with the theme of heat waves, the next song was also written in the same 1945 heat wave that engulfed Los Angeles: “Let it Snow”, lyrics by Sammy Cahn, music by Jule Styne.
Here are some comments made by Rabbi Leibl about the song: They (the composers) were trying to think cool thoughts…there’s no mention of Christmas…the song appears at the end of “Die Hard” – one of the two greatest Christmas movies ever made (the other being “Home Alone”). You can kind of get a sense of the era in which Rabbi Leibl grew up by his loving references to the 1980s.
As with every other song he played during the evening, the next one was accompanied by a very amusing anecdote.
The song was “City Sidewalks, Silver Bells” – written in 1951 by Jay Livingston (born Jay Levison) (music) and Ray Evans (lyrics) – both Jewish. The duo also went on to write “Que Sera Sera” – which is probably the first song I myself ever remember from a movie.
“Silver Bells” was originally called “Tinkle Bells”, Rabbi Matthew explained, but when Jay Livingston went home to his wife and told her that he and Evans had composed a song called “Tinkle Bells”, her reactions was: “Are you crazy? Do you know what ‘tinkle’ means?” (Actually, a reference to Wikipedia expands upon Rabbi Matthew’s story. Apparently, Jay Livingston didn’t know what his wife was talking about: “Of course, Jay and Ray had never heard it used in that way. ‘Tinkle’ (for ‘pee’) is a woman’s term. As Jay said in the act that they used to do, ‘When I was a boy, I said “Pee-pee”. Come to think of it, I STILL say “Pee-pee’”, only more frequently’.”
In any event, the song title was changed to “Silver Bells” – and although it was first sung by William Frawley (who went on to play Fred Mertz in “I Love Lucy”), it was made famous when it was recorded by Bing Crosby in 1950.
Forward to 1962 – and the Cuban Missile Crisis. (Where’s this going, you’re probably wondering?) Rabbi Leibl told a story about someone named Gloria Shayne who, when she was growing up, happened to live next door to a family by the name of Kennedy (as Gerry Posner would say, “as in John Fitzgerald Kennedy’ ”).
Gloria Shayne and her then-husband, Noël Regney, wrote the song, “Do You Hear What I Hear?” as a plea for peace. Something else that set this song apart from every other song Rabbi Leibl sang that evening, as he noted, was that it was the only one that mentioned the name “Christ”.
Many of you reading this might remember the “Andy Williams Show”, which was popular in the 1960s. But, did you know that the song “It’s the most Wonderful Time of the Year” was written for that show? It was written in 1963 by Sydney Pola (born Sidney Edward Pollacsek) and George Wyle (born Bernard Weissman, also famous for composing the theme song to “Gilligan’s Island”, a very important show for Rabbi Leibl’s parents’ generation). By the way, although I was taking copious notes during this very important lecture, I have had to resort to Googling a good portion of the information you’re reading here. I can’t imagine how much work Rabbi Matthew put into putting together his song list. He really should do his show again; I’m sure it would attract an even bigger audience next year.
Next, we were told we’re going to hear songs by “the greatest Christmas composer of all time!” But, what about all the songs we just heard? Who could top some of those songwriters?
It turned out that it was Johnny Marks. Here’s an excerpt from Wikipedia: John David Marks (November 10, 1909 – September 3, 1985) was an American songwriter. Although he was Jewish, he specialized in Christmas songs and wrote many holiday standards, including “Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer” (a hit for Gene Autry and others), “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” (a hit for Brenda Lee), “A Holly Jolly Christmas” (recorded by the Quinto Sisters and later by Burl Ives)” and even more.
While Rabbi Leibl told one story after another about each of the above songs, he really outdid himself when he told the story how “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” came into being. The story goes that Marx’s sister was married to a guy by the name of Robert Ray.
Ray was working for the department store Montgomery Ward, working as a low-level copywriter. Although Rabbi Leibl described what happened in great detail, it’s such a beautiful story that I thought I’d quote extensively from the Wikipedia article describing how the song came into being:
Sometime in the 1930s, May moved to Chicago and took a job as a low-paid in-house advertising copywriter for Montgomery Ward. In early 1939, May’s boss at Montgomery Ward asked him to write a “cheery” Christmas book for shoppers and suggested that an animal be the star of the book. Montgomery Ward had been buying and giving away coloring books for Christmas every year and it was decided that creating their own book would save money and be a nice good-will gesture.
May’s wife, Evelyn, had contracted cancer in 1937 and was quite ill as he started on the book in early 1939. May “drew on memories of his own painfully shy childhood when creating his Rudolph stories.” He decided on making a reindeer the central character of the book because his then four-year-old daughter, Barbara, loved the deer in the Chicago zoo. He ran verses and chapters of the Rudolph poem by Barbara to make sure they entertained children. The final version of the poem was first read to Barbara and his wife’s parents…
In 1948, May’s brother-in-law, Johnny Marks, wrote (words and music) an adaptation of Rudolph. Though the song was turned down by such popular vocalists as Bing Crosby and Dinah Shore, it was recorded by the singing cowboy Gene Autry. “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” was released in 1949 and became a phenomenal success, selling more records than any other Christmas song, with the exception of “White Christmas”.
And with that, the entire audience joined in the singing of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” All that was needed to cap off the evening was for everyone to adjourn to The Shanghai (which, alas, is no longer) – and which, Rabbi Leibl recalled, was where his family always used to go for Christmas.
Features
Is Netflix’s new show the most Jewish cartoon ever?
Nearly every episode in ‘Long Story Short,’ from the creator of ‘BoJack Horseman,’ revolves around a very Jewish moment
By Mira Fox, PJ Grisar, Olivia Haynie and Nora Berman August 22, 2025
This story was originally published in the Forward. Click here to get the Forward’s free email newsletters delivered to your inbox.
The following contains light spoilers for the Netflix show Long Story Short.
The Schwooper family, the central figures in the new animated Netflix series Long Story Short, are diverse and unique — religious and atheist, gay and straight, farmers and businesswomen. Simultaneously, they are basically like every Jewish family you’ve ever met.
Naomi (Lisa Edelstein), the family’s domineering matriarch, is constantly nagging her kids to do better — her youngest son Yoshi (Max Greenfield) should be more professional; Shira (Abbi Jacobson), the middle child, should wear more dresses; her oldest, Avi (Ben Feldman) should be more observant. Her kids are constantly rolling their eyes and responding with sarcastic jabs. You’ve certainly seen this family. Maybe you’ve lived it.
The show, from animated hit BoJack Horseman’s creator Raphael Bob-Waksberg, isn’t linear; it jumps across the decades to show us snapshots of the young Schwoopers circa day school as well as their own parenting during the COVID pandemic and its aftermath. (Season 1 ends in 2022.)
Though the Schwoopers face crises that could befall any family — like Yoshi signing up for a multi-level marketing scheme involving spring-loaded mattresses — many of the show’s plotlines grapple deeply with Jewish identity.
Avi wonders if being Jewish simply means staying insular, eating fish that looks like a brain and being constantly afraid; Yoshi has a bar mitzvah crisis, struggling with what the rite means if you don’t believe in God; Shira is desperate to get her kids into day school, and is convinced it is only through making her mother’s knishes that she can win the administration’s approval.
The show takes a thoughtful, specific approach to Jewishness. But it also feels no pressure to explain itself, leaving plenty of Jewish moments that might not land, or even make sense, if they don’t reflect your experience.
Which left the Forward’s culture team with a lot to chew on. Who is Long Story Short for, and what is it saying? Read on for our discussion.
Jewish representation and Jewish clichés
Mira: I really liked that this show was not heavy-handed with its depictions of actual Jewish practice and identity. And I loved that we had a lot of really realistic different depictions. We have the oldest brother, Avi, who has sort of rejected Judaism, and resents it; he married a non-Jew and isn’t raising his daughter Jewish. Then there’s Shira, the middle child, who is gay — but even though her family looks different, she has pretty much stayed true to the Conservative Judaism she was raised with, and is sending her kids to Jewish day school. And then there’s Yoshi, the youngest, who ends up forging a totally different Judaism from his family, after a winding and experimental journey. I know lots of Yoshis and Avis and at least a few Shiras.
That being said, some characters’ sort of Jewy affect did rankle me a little. My mom and particularly my maternal grandmother absolutely do fit the show’s depiction of an overbearing Jewish mom. But as accurate as that feels to me, it also feels a little overdone; haven’t we told the jokes about the nagging Jewish mother enough times? It felt like a little bit of a cop-out because it’s such a trope. It’s an easy way to make a show feel really Jewish, but not an interesting one.
Nora: At first, I felt like the show was building up to be a deeper revelation about who Naomi was. There’s a really moving moment in an episode that flashes back to when she was a kid, and she cuts herself with a brooch to get her chaotic family’s attention. I thought, OK, we’re finally getting into it, this will be the episode where we learn who Naomi is. But it didn’t get explored.
Similarly, with Avi, I wanted to know what the roots of his Jewish disaffection were. He just comes off as a grump that Shira makes fun of for being a self-hating Jew. There were moments where I thought we’d get a deeper character study, and it didn’t fulfill that promise.
PJ: I think part of what it’s trying to do, with this fractured storytelling, is reflect the flow of when you’re with family and you’re remembering things. The conversation is discursive, it goes back and forth in time. We don’t talk about these things in a linear way.
The show feels like a blank check for Raphael Bob-Waksberg to make whatever he wanted after this huge success with BoJack Horseman, which was a weird and funky show, basically about Scott Baio as a horse (and a Democrat). What is interesting about Long Story Short was that it is living in this real place of specificity and isn’t afraid to do that.
Based on my conversation with Bob-Waksberg, he didn’t want to be boxed in. So it’s a Jewish show that’s not about antisemitism. And it doesn’t want to touch Israel because it’s just not interested in that. These people have rich Jewish lives and through these three siblings we have this dialectic with different ways to engage with being Jewish. I found it refreshing.
On the show’s approach to diversity
PJ: I want to talk more about the Nicole Byer character, Shira’s wife, Kendra. When we first meet her, it is clear she’s Jewish. And I think we were all hoping that it wouldn’t be explained, because why would we have to; Black Jews exist. But then it’s revealed that she’s a convert, and we have this moment with her in the Vidui prayer on Yom Kippur. And the story we’re given about how she ends up finding Judaism feels a little contrived.
Olivia: That’s something I thought a lot about. Black Jews are still treated as an anomaly, as something that needs explaining. When they meet at the grocery store while shopping for Rosh Hashanah dinner, the show seems to make fun of Shira for being so presumptuous when she tells Kendra that it’s nice she got invited to a Rosh Hashanah dinner. Kendra asks, “Why are you assuming, how do you know I’m not hosting?”
But then in the next episode, it sort of seems like she was right to assume that. We find out that Kendra became interested in Judaism as a way to explain a sudden absence from work without getting in trouble. It was very Black Cindy from Orange is the New Black — she’s converting to get something out of it. They turn it into a genuine moment, but why did she need to be swindling her way out of something?
I also think the show oversimplified how accepting Naomi would be of a Black daughter-in-law. She can’t stand Avi’s “shiksa” girlfriend, but Kendra is perfect? From what I know about interracial relationships, I wouldn’t say that is likely.
Mira: I think the smoothing of how diversity is received in general was interesting. Not just with Kendra’s conversion moment, but also with her and Shira being queer. It’s not really touched on if that would be an issue for them at all in the synagogue or day school or with any of the family, and I think it almost certainly would be, at some point.
The audience for the show
Mira: I wonder what the sell for this show is. I know that I am overwhelmed every time I open a streaming app by the sheer volume of new shows I’ve never heard of. And if there’s not some big monocultural show like Succession that everyone is watching, or nothing that I go in searching for, I have trouble choosing. While “cartoon about Jewish family” obviously will appeal to a certain set of Jewish families, who else is going to watch that? I’m sure some BoJack fans will watch, of course, but I wonder if they will stay.
Nora: What is Raphael Bob-Waksberg saying about Judaism? We think he got a blank check to make this show, and he does present this diversity of American Judaism. But I’m still curious about which parts he chooses to tease out more and which he doesn’t and why.
Olivia: It feels like the show is really for Jews. I really couldn’t imagine non-Jews watching this. I was thinking it will be a word-of-mouth show, like they read about it in the Forward or hear about it from their kids.
I think there’s things you just can’t understand if they’re not explained to you. Like when Naomi explains their observance level.
PJ: The way Naomi describes their practice is “progressive, Conservative, ritual over faith and blind practice. That’s literally the only way it makes sense.”
Olivia: That makes perfect sense to me because it’s like my grandparents. My grandmother would cook bacon, and they didn’t believe in God, but it was super important to them that their grandkids were raised Jewish in a synagogue. But when my mom stopped eating shellfish and pork, her parents never knew because they’d make fun of her — that’s too observant. Even though they were huge members of their congregation.
That said, I did think that some of the references that would have been inside jokes will make sense because of how much Jewish organizations have been in the news, like a bit about a bar mitzvah check that’s a donation to the ADL.
Mira: I agree that a lot of stuff is going to fly over some non-Jews’ heads, or even some Jews’ heads. But I also think that is what makes this show good, and not annoying or didactic. I’ve written so many reviews of Hallmark Hanukkah movies complaining about how they feel the need to put in these awkward, forced explanations. A character will say something like: “Hey, do you want to come spin the dreidel? It’s my favorite traditional Hanukkah game! Gee, I just love those chocolate gelt coins.”
If I don’t want a show to explain every little Jewish thing, I think it looks like Long Story Short. Maybe not everyone gets every joke. But that means it is going to be a richer text for Jews. Even in places where I maybe wanted more development, I didn’t need it. I know so many people who have, for example, converted or are in an interfaith relationship, so I have a depth of references that I extrapolate from to enhance or enrich my understanding of the characters.
What does the show say to Jews?
PJ: I think that it’s not meant to be prescriptive or say anything definitive. When I spoke to him, he said he had a lot of ideas and he didn’t feel the need to decide anything. He could just let the characters talk through things. Which I think is not a cop-out, actually, it’s a very Jewish approach.
Nora: It’s refreshing that it’s not about what it’s like to be a Jew after Oct. 7. It’s not that it doesn’t deal with deep themes, but it’s just a family of Jews existing, and we don’t need to explain anything about it. They deal with maybe internalized antisemitism, or grief, or wrestling with how they want to be Jewish in the world. But it’s not so angsty.
Mira: Because Abbi Jacobson from Broad City plays Shira, I was thinking a lot about Broad City while I watched, and where Long Story Short fits into the canon of Jewish media.
I felt like Broad City offered a new model of Judaism for our generation, where some of these old tropes about nagging Jewish mothers or Jewish American Princesses or Jewish guilt were present, but the characters didn’t feel weighed down by them. The show offered this very empowered version of Jewish femininity that wasn’t about competing against shiksas or being scolds. Abbi and Ilana got to be fun and irreverent in their Jewishness, like when they made a huge deal about fasting for Yom Kippur and then broke it with bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches and didn’t feel bad about it at all.
I think Long Story Short is very much about the younger generation trying to figure out their relationship with Judaism, but it doesn’t offer as clear of an idea of how they do so as Broad City did. But it’s clear that all the children feel some need to reinvent their Jewishness.
Olivia: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend is one of the shows that comes to mind for me, and the mother in that has so few redeeming qualities. There’s that whole song, “Remember How We Suffered,” that’s talking about how the only thing Jews do is talk about the Holocaust. There’s really no representation of Judaism outside of it being a chore. And Broad City was refreshing in that way — the mother in it was a stereotype, but she and her daughter have a great relationship.
I think Long Story Short was refreshing in the sense that Judaism isn’t only a burden, there’s a value and a richness to it.
PJ: I think this show is continuing in a longer tradition, maybe starting with Philip Roth and Portnoy’s Complaint, of Jews writing without their own institutional PR in mind. Not to make us look noble or good, but to present us as openly flawed. That continues on through the Coen brothers and A Serious Man, where it’s incredibly Jewish but not particularly flattering. Now we’re at this point where we don’t have to care so much about making a political statement or to dig so hard to critique our own community. It’s more tender, it’s coming from less of an angry place, but it still feels part of that tradition. We can approach with love but with an awareness that some stereotypes exist for a reason.
Like there’s this shyster-y lawyer character, the uncle, played by Danny Burstein. We go back and we see the family has a running joke about him. It is acknowledging that this uncle guy is a type of person who exists, but it’s also the type of person we make fun of — they’re a source of humor. We’re all in on the joke.
Nora: I kept thinking about the show Transparent; I think it is just sort of nice to see a family with a lot of tenderness going through these evolutions and challenges without having to justify it. It doesn’t shy away from stereotypes, but lovingly engages with them.
I also really appreciated the way it was talking about what it’s like to be marginalized as a Jew in America without it being didactic or political. I’m thinking of the episode where they go to school for a Christmas show, and the songs — one of them has the lyrics “Hanukkah, Ramadan, Kwanzaa too — we tolerate them all, but there’s nothing like Christmas!” That is exactly what it’s like to be a Jew in America at Christmas, where everyone is goading you to just participate because everyone loves Christmas. It’s just such a specific experience that I’d never seen represented.
Mira: Long Story Short might not give a lot of factual information about what it means to keep kosher or anything like that, but I think it does a good job at presenting Jews of all levels of observance as normal people who are also a relatable American family.
What do we want to see in the second season?
Mira: I’d love to see Shira’s coming out, and the first time she brought Kendra home, to know how her family came around to loving her wife so easily. I also want to see more of Yoshi’s Jewish journey, which is clearly winding; I feel like he definitely took a Buddhism pit stop at some point, maybe while he worked on the goat farm and smoked a lot of weed.
And I think I want to see the grandparents’ generation, and with it, more about how Naomi and Elliot — but particularly Naomi — grew up. I want to see a bit more of her tenderness; we get glimpses, but that’s it.
Nora: I want to see how Naomi and Elliot met. I also would love a bris episode for Shira’s kids, Walter and Benjamin — I think that would be hilarious. I also want to know what happened with Avi and his ex-wife’s marriage; I have the impression it has something to do with his relationship with Judaism.
Olivia: There’s a scene in the opening episode where Avi makes a joke in the car and it relieves some tension and he and Naomi make eye contact in the rearview mirror and smile. It shows they have this deep, sweet, special relationship that kind of falls apart by the time he’s an adult. I want to know more about him.
I’d be curious to know more about Kendra’s family; we get a bit of them in that one episode on her conversion, but I’d love to see where her family is now after she has converted. I’d like to know more about ָָAvi’s teenage daughter and how she sees her family. And maybe more about their lives outside the family, like with friends — I have no idea what Shira does for work.
PJ: I imagine Shira is an academic who wrote her dissertation on Walter Benjamin, and that’s why her two kids are named Walter and Benjamin.
Mira Fox is a reporter at the Forward. Get in touch at fox@forward.com or on Twitter @miraefox.
PJ Grisar is a Forward culture reporter. He can be reached at grisar@forward.com and @pjgrisar on Twitter.
Olivia Haynie is an editorial fellow at the Forward.
Features
New biography of Carole King explores the musical genius of America’s most successful female singer-songwriter
Reviewed by BERNIE BELLAN
Carole King (born Carol Klein in 1941) is arguably the most successful female singer-songwriter of all time. With over 75 million record albums sold and with 118 songs that she either wrote or co-wrote, King’s prolific and fabulously successful career has been the subject of several books and numerous articles, including her own memoir, published in 2012, which was titled “Carole King: A Memoir.”
Now, in a soon-to-be-released book, titled “Carole King: She Made the Earth Move,” journalist Jane Eisner takes a fresh look at King’s life, including her two most recent marriages (which King tends to gloss over in her own memoir, according to Eisner) to two men who were abusive to King, both physically and mentally.
Eisner herself has had a very successful career, having worked at the Philadelphia Inquirer for 25 years in various positions, including as a reporter, editor, and executive. Later, she spent 10 years as editor of The Forward, a leading American Jewish newspaper (which has now transitioned to an online version only and can be read for free at forward.com.)
The book is the latest addition to a series of books produced by Yale University Press titled “Jewish Lives.” According to the Jewish Lives website, “Jewish Lives is a prizewinning series of biography designed to explore the many facets of Jewish identity.
“Individual volumes illuminate the imprint of Jewish figures upon literature, religion, philosophy, politics, cultural and economic life, and the arts and sciences.
“Subjects are paired with authors to elicit lively, deeply informed books that explore the range and depth of the Jewish experience from antiquity to the present.”
In Carole King’s case, however, King has given very few interviews over the years and Eisner was not able to speak to King directly. In explaining how she approached this book, Eisner writes: ” I’ve taken on the challenge to write an interpretive biography of a musical icon who is brilliant, accomplished, and complicated.
“This book was quite a journey. Though I’ve admired her music since Tapestry was released, I wanted to understand it from the inside out. To do that, I studied piano for two years, which enabled me to dissect her musicality and describe what musicians call the ‘Carole King chord.’
“Carole King was her own kind of trailblazer — she often led recording sessions in a studio full of men as she defied expectations of what a woman can and should do. I can relate. Often being the only woman in the room deeply shaped my outlook, too. It made me aware of the stories we weren’t telling and the perspectives that escaped our attention; it also made me try hard to pay it forward, and to help younger women achieve their own professional dreams.
“Ambition and anxiety, accomplishment and regret – all those conflicting emotions have laced through my personal and professional lives. That’s one reason I was drawn to write about Carole King. She faced that juggling act from the highest levels in her field. ‘My baby’s in one hand, I’ve a pen in the other,’ as she memorably wrote.”
I hadn’t realized that Eisner did not have a background in music until after I finished reading her biography of King. That makes what she has produced all the more admirable, as a great many parts of the book dissect the song writing experience in great detail. In fact, if you don’t know how to read music (which, I admit, I myself don’t), you will probably be at a loss trying to understand many parts of this book. Eisner aims to do her best to explain the genius that lay behind KIng’s best works – and how incredibly varied her style was.
Anyone who has seen the Broadway musical about King, titled “Beautiful: The Carole King Musical,” would have an appreciation for just how gifted King was. As Eisner explains, King’s musical talent was on clear display from a very early age. Her mother, Eugenia (née Cammer) discovered that young Carol (who added an “e” to her name when she left home when she only 17 to try to forge a career in songwriting, and changed her name from Klein to King) was very gifted musically already by the age three. Eugenia taught Carol piano herself, including music notation and proper note timing.
In Eisner’s account of King’s childhood, her early years come across as very happy. The book’s introductory chapter delves into both Carole’s mother’s and father’s family histories, going all the way back to Europe in the 1800s. King’s father, Sidney, was a firefighter in Brooklyn, where the family lived but, along with several other Jewish firefighters, Sidney purchased land on a lake in Connecticut called Lake Waubeeka. Young Carol loved her summers spent in what were very rustic conditions – and Eisner suggests that early childhood experience played a pivotal role later in King’s life when, after having achieved fabulous success – beginning with the release of her seminal album, Tapestry, in 1971 – soon to be followed by a prodigious number of other albums, King threw it all away and went to live in the Idaho wilderness – with two different husbands in succession, as mentioned, who both treated her cruelly.
Since King has remained largely silent about what led her to take such a major shift in her life – when she was still only in her 30s, moving away from the vibrant music scene of Los Angeles, where King had produced her greatest work, only to virtually cut herself (and three of her four children) from the world, Eisner uses her reportorial skills to pore through previous accounts of King’s life (including, of course, King’s own memoir), along with first hand interviews of many of the individuals who played key roles in King’s life, to try to understand how King could have changed gears so dramatically.
Eisner also refers to King’s younger brother, Richard, who was intellectually disabled and shunted off to live in an institution when he was only three. Since King rarely referred to him, Eisner speculates that King was somewhat traumatized by that experience – and that it might have played a role in the trauma that surfaced later in her life when she entered into marriages to two different – and abusive men – along with the trauma she endured when she found out her first husband, Gerry Goffin, had been unfaithful to her.
Since this book is part of a series called “Jewish Lives,” Eisner spends a fair bit of time examining how much being Jewish meant to Carole King – when, in her early years, for instance, she met Gerry Goffin, who was her first husband and first songwriting partner – and whom she married in a typically Jewish ceremony. After she was finally able to put the disastrous marriages to her last two husbands behind her, King once again returned to her Jewish roots, albeit in a spiritual form, but not with any particular involvement in the Jewish community, per se.
As Eisner writes toward the end of her book, “Throughout her very long career, King has displayed an anguished and conflicted attitude toward the public celebrity expected of her as an iconic musician. The yearning for privacy and the consequent fear of exposure, gripped her early on. Even though she had performed as a child, and sought the spotlight as a teenager, she often recoiled from it as an adult, especially as a mother. She complained about being so far away from her family when she was touring – indeed, wrote the definite song about just that experience – and yet grew to relish live performance with the same zeal and affection as she did when recording in a closed studio.”
The Broadway musical about King ends with the dissolution of her marriage to Goffin. Anyone who would have seen that show and might have been curious about what happened next in King’s life would find the answers in “Carole King: She Made the Earth Move.” Eisner notes that King’s second husband, Charles Larkey, was also Jewish and, like Goffin, was introduced to King through music, as Larkey was an accomplished musician who collaborated with King on many of her albums. But Larkey was five years younger than King, and Eisner speculates that the age difference played a major factor in their growing apart.
As talented as King was, she was also very much a devoted mother who was determined to stay at home with her children – two born while she was with Goffin, and two with Larkey. Eisner describes King’s initial reticence about playing her music in public – and the gradual ease she felt playing in front of larger and larger crowds, culminating in a concert in Central Park in 1973 with over 100,000 people in attendance.
“Carole King: She Made the Earth Move” is not meant to be an exposé of any sort. It’s written in a very professional, reportorial style. Eisner’s years of newspaper experience shine through, as she tells a very compelling story of genius punctuated by frequent heartbreak. Of course, anyone who has listened to Tapestry or some other of King’s albums of that era would be well aware that she fully used music to express her emotion. But Eisner also analyzes some of King and Goffin’s early – and greatest songs, such as “Up on the Roof,” “Will You Love Me Tomorrow?” and “You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman, ” to show that King was a musical genius from the very beginning – and that she knew exactly how to elicit an emotional response to her most heartfelt songs.
“Carole King: She Made the Earth Move” is set to be released September 16, according to information available online, but you can pre-order the book from a number of different sources.
“Carole King: She Made the Earth Move”
By Jane Eisner
Yale University Press
Set to be released Sept. 16, 2025
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