May 2026 Book Review

Review of Weitzman, Steven. Disasters of Biblical Proportions: The Ten Plagues Then, Now, and at the End of the World. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2026.

Rich Robinson

Passover is not too far behind us, so what better time than now to review this unique, fun, and informative book on the ten plagues of Passover. Steven Weitzman has opened a window onto the plagues—not so much what the biblical text says, though he does touch on that, as the ways the plagues have been conceived, repackaged, and used for a variety of purposes by Jews, Christians, and also Muslims down through history. Weitzman is our travel guide du jour for this journey. As Bette Davis once said in one of her movies: “Fasten your seat belts … it’s going to be a bumpy night!”

Weitzman proceeds plague by plague. First up is, of course, blood. Here he runs with the connection the Bible makes between blood and justice. He explores the difference between eye-for-an-eye justice and the rabbinic concept of middah keneged middah, a “measure-for-measure” kind of punishment that only God can inflict, in which the punishment in some way matches the offense. The Venice Haggadah of 1609 shows, in an illustration, that while Pharaoh bathed in blood to cure his leprosy (an actual premodern healing method), the plague of blood made him suffer instead of healing him—an example of middah keneged middah.

Move on to 1948, where Israeli army office Abba Kovner attempted to motivate troops by sending them letters comparing the army’s fighting to the plague of blood. Writes Weitzman:

Although honored for his heroism as a resistance fighter during the Holocaust and later celebrated for his poetry, Kovner remains an extremely controversial figure in Israel to this day in large part because of his efforts to exact revenge for the Holocaust but also because of the battle letters he sent, which were so inflammatory that they drew a rebuke at the time from the Zionist leader Meir Ya’ari, who described them as “Fascist horror propaganda” (pp. 45-46, Kindle edition).

Kovner saw the plague of blood as a reference to the coming destruction of the enemy—only now, it was people rather than God who meted out the punishment. The first plague flipped on its head.

You can tell from the above two radically different examples that Weitzman leave no stone unturned in his “travelogue.” And I have only touched the tip of the iceberg even in the first chapter on blood.

The second plague of frogs focuses on the humor that frogs seem to universally evoke. (Cecil DeMille in his movie The Ten Commandments had to delete a scene of the frogs swarming because audiences thought it was funny!) In the Talmud, specifically Pesahim 53b, the frogs are portrayed as—martyrs! The frogs, this Talmudic tractate, turn into pious creatures who hop into the ovens of the Egyptians (see Exodus 7:28) out of a sense of religious duty (!). If the frogs did so, how much more then should we give ourselves up to fiery furnaces as in the book of Daniel. This, Weitzman points out, is itself funny, for reasons that he proceeds to delve into.

As with many travel tours, we now have to hurry on to the next destination, plague three, which consisted of either lice or gnats (or something else) depending on your translation. Here it is the littleness of these creatures that unlocks the meaning of the plague, at least according to traditional Jewish sources. Magic (Pharaoh’s sorcerers) vs. miracles (enacted by God) are compared. A rabbinic tradition claims that Pharoah’s people used demonic power to match Moses’ miracles, but demonic power can only create large things like camels, not something as small as a gnat. Who knew? Pharaoh’s guys, known in the tradition as Jannes and Jambres (found also in the New Testament) come in for a lot of commentary as in Jewish tradition. Weitzman delves into medieval ideas about magic, divinely vs. demonically powered, its relation to optical illusions, and a whole lot more.

Plague four is swarms of flies, in which Goshen—where Israel lived—was not subject to this plague. Weitzman tours us through the way Goshen developed in the tradition as kind of utopian-but-not-quite kind of place, an oasis of safety even in the midst of danger. It was envisioned as a liminal locale somewhere between the Egyptian slavery and the Promised Land that yet lay ahead. In some traditions, Goshen becomes a rebel base beyond the reach of Egypt; in others, it is a kind of garden, pictured as such in the 13th–14th c. Hispano-Moresque Haggadah. Meanwhile the 1939 novel Moses, Man of the Mountain by Zora Neale Hurston, written in the context of African-American culture, portrayed Goshen as a modern-day liminal area bearing similarities to spaces where Black folks could have a kind of limited independent and flourishing life. A real life example: Eatonville, Florida, one of around sixty all-Black towns that came into existence as a result of segregation—yet afforded the inhabitants control, creativity, and community. (Hurston saw such spaces as an argument against racial integration.)

Plague five: cattle disease. Here the traditions move from early on showing little concern for the cattle themselves to a later focus on the suffering of the animals. This was particularly of later Christian traditions. Sometimes, as in the 1865 pestilence that destroyed 400,000 cattle in England, such outbreaks were seen as God’s punishment for abusing animals. These ideas reached something of a climax in the Haggadah for the Liberated Lamb of 1988, and now in the Vegan Haggadah published in 2024.

It goes on from there, covering the rest of the plagues in a heady brew of traditions that went this way and that as time goes on. Mostly Weitzman cites Jewish and Christians traditions, but sometimes Muslim as well. If the above sparks any interest, I would suggest reading the entire book. It is enjoyable, eye-opening, and eclectic. There are many illustrations throughout, most in color.

Who knows? Disasters of Biblical Proportions may inspire discussions at your next Passover seder. Haven’t you had enough of “How much of the Haggadah can we skip before we eat?” This book will engage your seder company so much that they will want to keep talking about the ten plagues long after the matzah ball soup gets cold. (Hint: you can reheat it in the microwave.) Seder or not, you owe it to yourself to read this stimulating book.