Christopher Schulte’s Zimzum: God and the Origin of the World is a study of the fundamental and elusive kabbalistic concept of the title. In his review, Eli Rubin turns to the interpretation offered by the late-17th-century English Christian philosopher Anne Conway:
For Conway, the most crucial kabbalistic idea was that creation depends on the diminishment of God. As “the chiefest Good,” she explained, God desired to “make Creatures to whom he might Communicate himself: But these could in no wise bear the exceeding greatness of his Light. . . . He diminished therefore . . . the highest Degree of his most intense Light, that there might be room for his Creatures.” Although the original Hebrew term is not transliterated here, Conway’s book was the first to introduce the doctrine of zimzum (also spelled tzimtzum, tsimtsum, or imum) to the English reading public.
Of course, “diminishment” is just one of many options available to translators and interpreters of zimzum. The choices listed by Christoph Schulte in the opening sentence of his recent book . . . are “contraction,” “retraction,” “demarcation,” “restraint,” and “concentration.” The futility of reducing the meaning of zimzum to any one of these words attests to the conceptual ambiguity that envelops this doctrine in a veil of tantalizing mystery, much as zimzum itself simultaneously conceals and reveals the divine.
The underlying concept seems to have originated with the Jerusalem-born mystic and sage Isaac Luria (1534–1572) in his interpretations of earlier kabbalistic doctrines—but even that supposition is the subject of controversy. Schulte traces its evolution since then through hasidic thought, Christian kabbalists, and such unlikely figures as the literary critic Harold Bloom.
Strangely enough, Schulte doesn’t seem interested in why these writers find this kabbalistic relic such an irresistible symbol of modernity. Even when cultural processes of disenchantment, materialism, and secularization empty zimzum of theological meaning, it somehow maintains its compelling power as a literary motif whose very emptiness gestures ironically, or perhaps mournfully, at the lost poetry of religion.
Read more at Jewish Review of Books
More about: Christian Hebraists, Harold Bloom, Jewish Thought, Kabbalah