[Theme music plays]

Jen: Hi, it’s Jen Richler, here to kick off the spring season of Can We Talk?, the podcast of the Jewish Women’s Archive, where gender, history, and Jewish culture meet.

Miriam Anzovin: The story of Purim—I always am struck by the level at which people think this is a story for kids. That always baffles my mind. This is a story about sexual assault. It’s about abuse of power. It’s about attempted genocide.

Jen: With Purim around the corner, Miriam Anzovin joins us to talk about the darker side of the Purim story—especially the role of gender.

Miriam is the TikTok and Instagram sensation behind "Daf Reactions," a video series in which she dissects the daily page of Talmud with her signature irreverent wit. She knows how to blend the fun with the serious, and Purim definitely has both.

Miriam: On Purim, we are indeed commanded to celebrate our survival and be happy and make merry. That’s part of the holiday. But I do believe sometimes the core issues at the heart of it get glossed over. And to me, one of the core issues is about what happens to women.

Jen: In this episode of Can We Talk?, we take a closer look at the women of the Purim story. The story is set roughly 2,500 years ago in Persia, but the gender dynamics still resonate today. Please note, this episode includes explicit language and references to sexual assault.

[Party music starts]

Jen: We start with a dramatic retelling of the Megillah, with Miriam’s very contemporary spin on the traditional tale.

Miriam picks up the story just as Ahashverosh, the king of Persia, has kicked off a six-month-long party to celebrate—well, himself.

Miriam: So at this party, shit-faced Ahashverosh demands that his beautiful queen, Vashti, catwalk for him and his disgusting slob bros, wearing her crown—and possibly nothing else.

But Queen Vashti, who was having her own party with the women, was like, Um, no thank you. I am all set with that. Miss me with the objectification.

Ahashverosh was livid and incredibly, violently drunk. He threw a whole mantrum. His ego was ego-ing. He asked his buddies for advice, and they were like, Uh, get rid of this bitch. Get a hot new trad wife who’s into, like, raw milk or something—someone who would never undermine your role as head of your household, as head of your kingdom, by talking back to you.

You can’t allow women to have that kind of power. Write an official statement that the women of this empire better all submit to their husbands, too, or else. And we should do this really fast before things get out of hand and somebody invents feminism way too early in the timeline.

So Queen Vashti is, shall we say, disappeared by Ahashverosh for not submitting, for saying no.

Now it was time to find a new wife—phase two of their plan.

[music plays]

Jen: Ahashverosh sent his minions to round up all the young virgins of Persia. Every night, a different woman visited the king in his palace. After their ‘audition,’ they became part of his harem.

One of these women was a Jew named Hadassah. At the advice of her cousin Mordechai, the leader of the Jews in exile, she changed her name to Esther to hide her Jewish identity from the king. Esther won Ahashverosh over with her beauty and charm and became queen in Vashti’s place.

Miriam: Meanwhile, Ahashverosh promoted one of his advisors, named Elon—wait, no, Haman—to be in charge of everything, even though he wasn’t qualified and no one voted for him.

Ahashverosh commanded that everyone bow to Haman. This was, um, problematic, to say the least, because Haman wore an idol on his necklace, and hashtag as a Jew, Mordechai couldn’t bow in front of that.

But Haman was a real snowflake. He was so triggered that this one Jewish guy, Mordechai, wouldn’t bow to him that he decided a good revenge would be… to kill all of the Jews.

Haman cast lots to pick the best day for that and selected the thirteenth of the month of Adar.

Jen: When word of Haman’s plan got to Mordechai, he tore his clothes and put ashes on his head as if he were in mourning. But then he realized something—Esther could be the savior of the Jews. He went to her and told her she should meet with the king and reveal her secret Jewish identity.

Miriam: Esther is like, Um, okay, quick reminder, FYI, anyone entering the king’s presence without being summoned has a 99.9999% chance of being executed. And, fun fact, I have not been summoned.

Esther knew her outlook was dire, but she also understood the assignment. She commanded Mordechai and all the Jews of Shushan to fast and pray for her for three days.

After that, Queen Esther got dressed in her most glam outfit, drew on a cat-eye sharp enough to kill a man, and reminded herself that fear is the mind-killer. [music plays]

Jen: Esther went to see Ahashverosh. Luckily, he was in a good mood. He extended his ‘scepter’ to her and asked her what she wanted. Esther invited him and Haman to a two-day feast. There, after some wining and dining, she told Ahashverosh that someone was trying to kill her and her people.

Miriam: King Ahashverosh, with the self-awareness of dental floss, demands that Esther name and shame the villain who would dare to threaten her people. 

[dramatic music plays]

Esther pivots dramatically, points to Haman, and says, This is my nemesis. This is my enemy right here.

Haman spat out his drink. He didn’t know that Jews could also be hot queens! 

Haman now realized that a woman was going to bring him down. And that does hit different in a patriarchy.

Jen: King Ahashverosh was pissed and demanded that Haman be impaled on a stake.

Miriam: But just because the figurehead of a hateful ideology is stuck with a pointy end, does not mean the hate is also dead.The Jews weren’t out of the woods yet. Purge day was still on the calendar. Esther knew that when you play the game of thrones, you either win—or you die.

 Jen: Esther and Mordechai begged the king for help. He issued a decree allowing the Jews to fight back—and that’s just what they did. The thirteenth of Adar became a day of bloody battles across the kingdom.

Miriam: Against all odds, the Jews flipped the script, turning defeat into survival. And the day after, they celebrated.

Mordechai and Esther established the holiday of Purim—a holiday for charity, for gifts, for retelling this story in podcasts or other forms.

[music plays]

But as we celebrate, let’s remember that Esther saved us—but nobody saved her.

She had to remain married to Ahashverosh, the man who had raped her.

So on Purim, when we celebrate the heroism and bravery of Queen Esther, this story should also be a reminder for us to raise up the stories of other heroic and brave women—to whom we owe so much.

Jen: And that’s the whole Megillah, according to Miriam Anzovin. I wanted to hear more from Miriam about the gender dynamics in the Purim story. How do its more traditional  interpretations portray women? What kind of power do women have?

I started by asking Miriam to elaborate on her comment that Ahashverosh raped Esther.

Miriam: Esther is a character who is a survivor of sexual assault. She’s a character who does not become rescued at the end. Nobody swoops in to save her. This is always something I think about when we tell the Purim story, and I don’t believe we talk about it enough. She saved us. But nobody saved her. 

And also, nobody saved everybody else in that harem of women that Ahashverosh kept—who he, you know, raped that first night. And then he’s like, I don’t want to make you the queen, but I’m going to keep you anyway. So now you’re trapped in the harem forever. And none of them actually volunteered for this. This was not optional. This was forced upon them.

I think many people who are survivors of sexual assault do make that correlation, that connection, with the story of Purim. And I understand why folks also don’t really want to think about it too much because it’s incredibly depressing and a downer. And I get we’re trying to celebrate—that’s not the vibe.

But it’s an important aspect, a very important aspect of the story, a very important aspect of this character of Esther. And also, for that matter, it’s relevant to Vashti as well—the queen who is, you know, disappeared in the very first chapter, but who does cast quite a long shadow over the rest of the events.

And, like, personally, I do think—yeah, I know we make grogger sounds, we have noisemakers whenever Haman’s name is mentioned. But to me, I’m like, Why don’t we have that for Ahashverosh? He deserves it. He deserves the condemnation for what he did.

Jen: Continuing a bit to talk about the treatment of women—something that’s interesting is also just how the story treats the female characters, and how people who have interpreted this story have treated those characters.

Portraying Esther and Vashti as opposites, right? So one is obedient and subservient, and one is defiant. And then, even more than that, kind of pitting them against each other—like you’re either on Team Esther or on Team Vashti, you know? So what do you think about that?

Miriam: Oh, absolutely. I think in Jewish lore, there are several women who fit the archetypes of the Madonna-whore complex, right? Esther and Vashti are definitely one of those. Another that comes to mind immediately is Eve and Lilith, right?

You’ve got one woman that is a little bit rebellious, perhaps, or does not obey. And the other who fits more with the ideal version of a woman, of a wife, that the authors of the story might be looking for. But Esther and Vashti, I think, are a very clear example of this. And this becomes even more apparent when we think about how the story is expanded upon in the Talmud and other midrashic stories.

So, midrashic—I want to say biblical fan fiction—but it’s the creative retelling of some of these stories and expansion upon them by the sages.

For example, the actual Megillah doesn’t say anywhere that Vashti was a cruel, horrible torturer of Jewish women, but it certainly says that in the Babylonian Talmud, where the sages really amp up the level of villainy for Vashti.

Basically, the sage Rava says that both Ahashverosh and Vashti—at that first big party—it was a sex party for them. And the quote is, “He with pumpkins, his wife with zucchinis.” Which is, I think, quite… what an image.

And that’s saying they were akin, they were alike. They both were terrible people. They make her this monster, even taking it to the point of embodying that in her physicality. There’s the suggestion that she doesn’t want to see Ahashverosh because she has a tail or because she has leprosy.

But the sages in Eretz Yisrael, in different texts like Esther Rabbah, for example, portray Vashti in a comparatively nicer and less salacious way, shall we say.

Jen: How do you connect the Purim story to things like the Me Too movement, for example, or gender-based violence? Or even something like the agunah crisis—Jewish women who are trapped in marriages they don’t want to be in because they are unable to obtain a get, or a divorce, from their husbands? That’s something we’ve even done a podcast episode about.

Can you talk a little bit about its relevance to contemporary issues?

Miriam: It’s almost shocking how the story of Purim is relevant all the time. It is a perfect framework for understanding things like abuse of power. Certainly Haman—we see that right now in our own government. We see the treatment of women getting worse and worse in this country. 

And I say that as somebody who exists online a lot. And after the election we had, there were a lot of people going around saying, Your body, my choice—as, like,  a gotcha! Like, You women thought you were going to have a female president, but no—we’re in charge. We own you.

And there’s such ownership over women’s bodies—that is part of the Purim story. And I think that’s why Vashti is such a character of interest to feminists—although I agree we shouldn’t pit them against each other—but something Vashti represents is saying no.

And we all know what happens—sometimes when women say no, they are disappeared. They are attacked. They are treated in horrific ways when they just say no. Vashti is a prototype for women who go through that.

I think anyone who’s paying attention to what’s happening in the news can look at her and say, Yeah, I’ve heard stories of this happening. Or It’s happened to me—I rejected a man, and I had the most horrific fallout. The punishment dealt out by men—the man who felt slighted or wronged or insulted by not having immediate access to women’s bodies.

I also think what’s tough about Esther—and I know why people are like, Well, Esther, what does she even really do? She’s such a good girl comparatively.

I’d like to push back on that a little bit. Yes, she is obedient. She is virtuous. But, you know, at the same time, this is not her choice. She cannot push back if she wants to live.She is trapped in this way that feels very familiar to anybody who has been in an abusive relationship.As somebody myself who has been in an abusive marriage, I felt very connected to that—the idea of you’re walking on eggshells. You can’t go see the king. You cannot speak. Because something really bad could happen to you.

But at the same time, she is ferocious as a queen in pushing the offensive against the people who are trying to kill her own people. Sometimes it is much easier to speak up for someone else than it is for yourself.

There’s a really interesting teaching that when Esther is pointing—Ahashverosh has asked her, Who is the villain? Who’s trying to kill you? What’s going on?—the tradition, taught by Rabbi Elazar ben Shemua, says that when Esther is pointing, she’s actually pointing at Ahashverosh himself as her abuser—and an angel comes by and pushes her hand, so she ends up pointing at Haman. She has two enemies in that room. One is Haman, and the other is her husband. And how trapped she must have felt to beg her abuser to help her family.

But I do want to say about the juxtaposition of Esther versus Vashti—there's nothing wrong with Esther as a character being, uh, more, quote-unquote, demure. Or perhaps we can see it as being more strategic in how she interacts with Ahashverosh.

Purim is a time to flip things on their head, challenge the status quo. And that can include challenging the paradigms and archetypes we find in our own stories about women and discovering for ourselves what resonates in the text.

Maybe you don’t want to be silent. Maybe you are outspoken, like Vashti. Maybe you’re wearing a metaphorical mask that you feel you need to wear, like Hadassah, who has to. But maybe one can also embrace one’s true self in a strategic way—because I think that’s what Esther is. She appears demure, but she’s maybe more strategic than she’s given credit for by people who like to uplift Vashti and push down Esther. There’s something to take away from both of these female characters that’s really important.

Jen: If you were to rewrite a part of the Purim story—the Megillah—and you only got to change one part, which part would that be, and how would you write it?

Miriam: I would actually like to take a little bit of inspiration from the Book of Judith, which we often read on Hanukkah. This is a story of a beautiful woman who saved her people by cutting off the head of the enemy general who was attacking her city.

And to me, if I were rewriting this, I would have a scene at the end where Esther cuts off Ahashverosh’s head. I would like to see that. I would like to see a cathartic moment where she gets to do this—to punish the person who has tormented her, who has sexually assaulted her, who has imprisoned her, who has changed the course of her life so beyond, I’m sure, what she could have possibly imagined.I would like to give her the opportunity to handle her revenge herself.

Jen: And, I mean, maybe it’s more than revenge. As you pointed out, Esther saves everyone else, but nobody saves Esther.

Yeah. And at the end of the story, she’s still stuck with the man who assaulted her.

So, you know, maybe she’s also taking her safety into her own hands—saving herself.

Miriam: Right. Nobody has to know that he got poisoned, right? Like, there are all these things that I would love for Esther.

I would love if she regained her freedom at the end.

Right. But again, I think I would like her to have her own choice. I can’t decide what she would do, because that’s me writing myself and my own wishes into the story.

I just wish she had choice in her life.

[theme music plays]

Jen: That was Miriam Anzovin. You can learn more about Miriam at miriamanzovin.com, and you can find her on Instagram, TikTok, BlueSky, Mastodon, Threads, and YouTube.

Miriam is developing her "Jewish Lore Reactions" video series during her CJP and JArts Creative Community Fellowship.

Thank you for listening to Can We Talk?, the podcast of the Jewish Women’s Archive. Our team includes Nahanni Rous and Judith Rosenbaum. Our theme music is by Girls in Trouble. In this episode, you also heard Vienna Beat, Plasticity, and Zelus from Blue Dot Sessions.

I'm Jen Richler, wishing all our listeners a Happy Purim—Chag Purim Sameach. Until next time.