Writing The Tremble of Love

So one of these days, there will be a website and a blog for the book that I am completing, The Tremble of Love, an historical novel inspired by the healer, lover of life, the Baal Shem Tov.  A post like this one would then find its home there.  But for now, I shall post here, speaking these thoughts and feelings into the vast empty fullness of cyberspace where millions (or is it billions?) roam with not even a handful stumbling into this blog space.  Nonetheless, it feels good for a few moments to expand beyond the isolation of my little study and (what at the moment feels like) the enclosed space of my mind.

So here's what brings me to post.  The book contains many references to Kabbalah, the Zohar, the Book of Splendor, (arguably the greatest Kabbalistic text), and to Rabbi Isaac Luria, his 16th century community of Kabbalists in Safed, and his cosmology.  What I am facing is how much to include about Kabbalah and in what depth? This is a vast vast subject—a world.   I know that I want to birth two subsequent novels: one set in Safed and the other in Spain when the Zohar first emerged.  For those, I will immerse myself in Kabbalistic texts, teachings, concepts and practices.  The Baal Shem Tov was a great Kabbalist (some even say, the reincarnation of Luria, aka Ha'Ari).  So rightfully, there must be some inclusion of Kabbalah in The Tremble of Love.  How much then to elaborate on the sefiros and the creation of the world according to Lurianic Kabbalah?

There was a false messiah known as Shabtai Tzvi (Shabbetai, Sabbatai) whose movement is crucial to mention in the book and I do.  It is one of the threads pulled throughout the weave of the novel.  But I keep standing on the precipice and avoiding jumping into a deep (dark) exposition of Shabtai Tzvi's specific theoretical and practical  aberrations of Lurianic Kabbalah.  I do some of this--have to, but, much as I might like to wax more philosophical, I know this is territory in which I need more schooling and contemplation in order to be truly insightful.  And how much do my readers want and, perhaps more importantly, need?   I don't want to back away from what would be important and responsible (not quite the word, but can't find the right one at the moment) for me to elucidate.  I am also aware that this is not an academic, pedantic text and do not want it to have that flavor.  HELP!

Some days like today, I rewrite passages that I have already rewritten dozens of times, trying to convey true and useful context (about Sabbatean kabbalah in this case) without either oversimplifying or overcomplicating.  That is precisely the balance I am trying to find.  Truth is to find that place, often one actually needs a GREAT DEAL of knowledge in order to synthesize and reflect essence.

Postscript: It will help to kick the judge off my shoulder who likes to let me know that no matter how I am doing, it is wrong.  Might also behoove me to invite Trust to stand with and in me: Trust that I will do my best and be guided to what is needed that this book be a thing of beauty, inspiration, and love.  It is a primary intention for this book is that it be a sanctuary, that it serve as a refuge—not taking readers away somewhere, but leading them into their own hearts, the place of ultimate refuge.