The publisher wanted me to write something on why I chose to write from a Jewish perspective and why I would set a Jewish book in Hell when Jews traditionally don't believe in Hell.
Note: It seems to want to redirect the post away from the essay. I'll try again and if it doesn't work I'll paste the essay here.
On Judaism and Hell, by Andrew Hiller
Atthis ArtsCreator
September 8, 2025
You might wonder why as a Jew I eagerly accepted the offer of a Jewish sensitivity reader to review Hornytown Chutzpah. Shouldn’t I know enough? Shouldn’t my word, my understanding of my own people and religion be enough?
When Emily first brought the topic up, I was all in. Having worked in the theatre and in a newsroom, I appreciated Atthis’s commitment to sensitivity reading. In fact, it was one of the many reasons I chose to go with them. I firmly believe that the more eyes you have on a piece the less likely that something unintentional doesn’t slip through.
And there’s also a deeper answer. It can be found in a story I covered when I was a reporter for DC’s NPR station, WAMU 88.5 FM.
This story involves Rabbi Sunny Schnitzer who convinced Castro to allow his congregation to enter Cuba to teach the Jews there how, as he put it, be Jewish again. You see, before Fidel Castro’s rule, Cuba was a pretty good place for Jews. About 25,000 lived there, but after years of suppression, hostility, and Castro’s rule that number dropped to less than a thousand.
There were many reasons for the decline and not all of them were violent. Some fled. Some renounced their religion. Others simply hid who they were. However, the door to change cracked in 1992 when Cuba moved from an atheist state to a secular one and it was with this opportunity that Rabbi Schnitzer jumped.
The story carried multiple levels of wow, from the recovery of relics cleverly hidden, to the sight of people experiencing their language, music, and traditions for the first time. The emotions the Cubans expressed were palpable, and frankly, a little overwhelming. For them to recover who they'd been and to practice it joyously meant everything.
But strangely, that’s not the part I carry with me. The exchange from the interview that I recall best came when I asked Rabbi Schnitzer about American Jews. There I was in front of him, in his office after he returned from his trip, and I asked him, “I heard such happiness in Cuba. Why don’t we see that here? Why are so many Jews in America not 'practicing' Jews?"
He thought a moment and then answered simply, “Because it’s easy to be a Jew in America.”
It was a gut punch.
You see, I consider myself Jewish, but I can’t speak Hebrew, I don’t know many of the prayers, or the stories. I would never renounce my religion, but I don’t know it and I barely participate in it and it’s probably because of what the rabbi said. Because it had been “safe” to be a Jew in America in my lifetime, I chose to be culturally Jewish, not actively Jewish.
So, when it came to writing Hornytown Chutzpah, I researched, consulted with two rabbis, but primarily wrote the Jewish experience that I knew, an experience that blends the American story, popular culture, and my family’s stories with traditional Judaism.
So, why’d I want to write a Jewish book? It goes back to what Judaism means to me. It means study, debate, contemplation. It means wrestling with your circumstance and trying to leave the world a bit better than you found it.
This takes us to one of the primary conceits of the Hornytown Chutzpah: Hell is real.
To be honest, that’s trickier than many of you might realize because traditionally, Jews don’t believe in Hell. Hell is part of the Christian story. So, writing a Jewish story in which a belief was upturned felt very Jewish.
Sol is fighting for a place and for people he has been taught not to believe in.
I think that’s interesting. How do you reconcile it? How do you figure out which side you stand on? Now, there are demons in the Jewish myth. They’re called the shedim, so I didn’t totally go against doctrine, but I thought this might be a great way to create an intellectual tension that could walk hand in hand with the dramatic and emotional tensions of the book.
I also think, like many of us — including me — Sol has a journey ahead.
But let’s go back to Rabbi’s Schnitzer’s answer because it speaks to more than just the Jews.
Today, there are so many who view various groups as “safe” and so have sidestepped the fraught parts of our shared history. The pressure to keep our eyes closed is very present. And so, the answer to why I chose to write Hornytown Chutzpah from a Jewish point of view comes down to something important to me. I am Jewish. I carry the weight of our history, and the wisdom of our culture. And I know what happens when people come for groups whether they be Immigrant, LGBTQIAP+, etc. We live in dangerous times, we are at an inflection point and maybe beyond it, but for me, that Jewish ethic of thought, contemplation, debate rather than meek acceptance of dogma, is vital.
So… If these issues are so weighty, why write a comedy? Because I believe we have a better chance to hear each other if we laugh with each other than if we scream at each other and my most sincere hope is that a conversation rises and we forge a better way for all of us.