The Garden: In the beginning... (Definitions) [Paperback]

This process of retelling is a longstanding tradition in Bible study and teaching, made popular by Diamant's The Red Tent. Aidinoff's efforts are considerable. The fruits, though, are mixed to say the least.

The problem is a heavy-handed agenda. First on it is to paint God as an irredeemable corner and then hurl felonies at him. Aidinoff depicts God in her narrative specifically as she describes him in the Old Testament in her Afterword: choleric and impetuous. Within the text, Aidinoff does everything she can to underscore this characterization, even having God encourage Adam to rape the virgin Eve. This rape is Eve's first sexual experience. God, have you stopped telling your son to rape your daughter? Andrea Dworkin must be applauding, someplace.

Second, Aidinoff brings to the table a conception of the Almighty that matches how she sees the scientists at Los Alamos who developed the world's first operating nuclear weapon during the Second World War. That is, as she writes in her Afterword, "geniuses...that never considered the moral implication of the [atomic] bomb, or the suffering it would bring."

Put aside for a moment that the author apparently is not a nuclear scientist, was not part of the Manhattan Project, and therefore would have no idea about what scientists talked about in their living rooms or in church. The fact is that the writings and speeches of such scientists as Robert Oppenheimer make it clear that there was no dearth of moral struggle over the creation of the ultimate weapon. "I am become as death," Dr. Oppenheimer famously muttered, quoting the Bhagavad Gita phrase about the Hindu death god Shiva, while witnessing the May 1945 nuclear test at Alamagordo, New Mexico.

Third, Aidinoff is intrigued by the Snake in the Adam and Eve story, and wants to recast the serpent as hero instead of villain. The snake becomes Eve's tutor, teaching her an idealistic view of equality amongst the creatures of the world: "The Serpent says we're all equal, us and the creatures and the plants and the land. We all have the same right to live and use the things around us." Nice sentiments, yes. But this is the same sort of moral claptrap that leads kids to deadlock when asked: "A dog and a child are drowning. You can only save one. Which do you save?"

Some will certainly dismiss The Garden as blasphemy, causing others to rush to its defense on the grounds of artistic freedom. Yet God is hardly beyond reproach and I'd be the first to say there is sanctity in our God-given ability to create art -no subject too sacred. I laughed hard at George Burns in Oh, God! and Jim Carey in Bruce Almighty. I hardly think that Harry Potter promotes the worship of the devil. I thought The Red Tent was terrific and The Da Vinci Code a cracking good read. Blasphemy isn't the issue. Some of the world's greatest thinkers were supposedly blasphemers - the brilliant philosopher Spinoza was excommunicated for blasphemy.

My fear is that Aidinoff's audacity is going to turn this novel into the literary equivalent of the Andres Serrano "Piss Christ" furor at the Brooklyn Museum a few years back - a brouhaha over a work of art that isn't good enough to merit the hubbub. What matters more to me than blasphemy, and what's going to matter most to the young readers for whom this novel is purportedly intended, is that The Garden turns out to be a muddled mess of New Age pseudo-wisdom that is not fun to read; four hundred pages with little forward thrust toward what we will know will come near the end: the consumption of the apple from the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Even that climactic moment is undercut when you stop and think how many moral judgments Eve has made during the preceding ninety percent of the novel - a logical inconsistency from which the text never recovers.

Yes, it's good to be audacious. More writers should be audacious. But it's more audacious to be good.