Sabbaticals are periods when you have the rare privilege of time at your disposal to do what you cannot otherwise. This is my second sabbatical in twenty-three years since starting at BU. In 2002-3 when I was eligible for my first sabbatical, I took a leave of absence instead to teach in Frankfurt and spend time with my mother who was sick and died in early 2003. The first real sabbatical (a whole year without teaching) I took in 2007-8. My plan was to write the Jerusalem-book under contract with Blackwell. I did a ton of research and wrote about 120,000 words, nearly twice the projected word-count, but the draft was rejected by the publisher and so I needed to start over. Before I had even started on that project I got sucked into research on my mother’s life before and during the war, as a German Jewish refugee in England. The project yielded surprising information. But I needed to set that aside to work on Jerusalem, which I did, though not with the desired results. I also drafted a German essay volume on Jewish philosophy for which I received a contract but couldn’t really work on at the time. I ended that first sabbatical year with a lot of new knowledge, two books in progress, and a family research project that remains unfinished.
Right now I am on my second sabbatical, which I delayed so I could finish a three-year stint as director of the Elie Wiesel Center for Jewish Studies, a task that I found immensely satisfying and hope to return to this fall. This time around, I knew my time was limited. I also knew I needed to have most if not all writing done by the time Miriam and I were to take off for India. This I did. With the assistance of Sarah Leventer, a PhD student in American studies, I was able to move along the production of the German essay volume, which came out in October of last year. In December I submitted a full draft of the new version of the Jerusalem book to the publisher, and I am awaiting comments. A tricky essay I worked on for an entire year is forthcoming in a volume edited by my colleague Allen Speight and myself. All in all, a good harvest.
As in the days of graduate studies, what kept me sane and balanced over the past few months was music. Back then at Brandeis, newly arrived from Germany, academically disoriented, and intrigued by the things going on at that time in Europe (German unification, the dissolution of the Soviet Union), I found companionship and good cheer among fellow musicians who have remained our close friends until today. This time around, I was privileged to host a regular weekly session at my house for a group called Zensemble. (Look for us on SoundCloud.) But the sabbatical leave also provided opportunity to try something different. After twenty years or so I picked up my old clarinet. I found a teacher. I practiced. (Amy Advocat. Check out her extraordinary chops at www.amyadvocat.com and www.transientcanvas.com.)
When the time rolled around for us to pack for India, the question was: take the clarinet or leave it at home? It’s bulky. On the other hand, the instrument is not very good, so if it were to fall apart or I gave it away, it wouldn’t be a great loss. Miriam’s most-India-experienced friend suggested the clarinet might be a great conversation starter. She was right. Since we arrived at our mountain resort/artists’ residence I’ve been playing every day, for at least two hours. Usually I walk away from the house, so as not to disturb anyone, and I am also still a bit shy about practicing or playing where others can here me. But I needed to overcome this stage fright quickly. Members of our little household and the ladies who work in the tea plantations and walk by here every day find the clarinet entertaining and encourage me to play. It’s become a conversation starter. It’s also something that anchors and disciplines me while I am still trying to figure out what I want to accomplish while we’re here. Our days are so rich and what we see on our daily walks gives me so much to process that I’m not at all sure I’ll accomplish anything in particular. But at least I practice the clarinet.
