For me, the story of Fiddler on the Roof and Tevye’s casting out of Chava is personal. In June 1963, when I married a nominally Episcopalian professor of French, my parents disowned me, and so did my grandparents, all but two of my twenty-plus aunts and uncles, and all but three of my dozens of cousins. No one from my family came to our wedding, and I did not see them again for fifteen years. I sometimes wonder if I should write a sequel called Chava Returns. In my directorial mind, just one woman appears, and she’s no longer a girl. It’s Chava, but she’s not alone. She’s with her husband and she’s happy.
Source : ‘Fiddler,’ Tevye’s Daughters, and Me
