Morris Berman tells the story of his maternal grandfather, who, when he was five years old in 1883 or 1884, was sent to a Jewish elementary school in Belorussia. On the first day of class, the teacher startled the young boy by taking each child\u27s slate and smearing the first two letters of the Hebrew alphabet—aleph and beys—on it in honey. His grandfather\u27s first lesson consisted of eating the letters off the slate. The symbolism of this act is complex, Berman muses, but central to the ritual is the belief that what is real must be taken into oneself, ingested: we literally eat the other, take it into our guts, and as a result are changed by it (267-68). A similar, although usually unspoken, belief continues to weave through literac...