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ms_gouldbourne's review against another edition
5.0
I couldn't put this excellent, intelligent, horrifying, often funny book down.
I picked up Englander's The Ministry of Special Cases with absolutely no idea what I was letting myself in for. In fact, the blurb made it sound like some sort of young adult dystopia, given that I didn't know anything about the context (a fact that makes me feel supremely ignorant in retrospect). That meant that every twist and turn was profoundly shocking, since it took me a few chapters to realise the harrowing nature of what I was reading.
We are introduced to Kaddish Poznan, an outcast from the Jewish community in Buenos Aires who chips names off the gravestones of disreputable relatives as a way of making a living. Kaddish is the quintessential dreamer, chasing his big break which is always just around the corner. He is tolerated by his clever, practical wife Lillian and despised by his hot-headed socialist son Pato. The frequent arguments between Kaddish and Pato are heartbreaking in their realism and venom; father and son cannot find a way to understand the other, and it is this conflict which ultimately leads to their downfall. Kaddish berates Pato for forgetting his ID card in a world where this document is the difference between freedom and incarceration. He urges him to change his Jewish face to a more socially acceptable appearance, and insists on burning Pato's more radical books in fear of a government that his son scorns. Pato, in his turn, derides his father's perceived lack of spine, and fails to recognise the seriousness of the situation his country is in. Because of this, he is taken - 'disappeared' by Argentinian military.
The rest of the book is devoted to Kaddish and Lillian's increasingly desperate attempts to get Pato released to them, faced with a government that won't even acknowledge he ever existed. The reader rises on Lillian's hopes and falls with her every time they are dashed. I found myself turning every page as quickly as possible, following the Poznan family down the various avenues and channels they use to try and find out what has happened to their son. I won't spoil the resolution of the book, but I was profoundly moved by the narrative style, the way humour was employed even at the times of the greatest torment, the portrayal of an unflinchingly uncaring authority that sent these poor desperate individuals running in circles in the time of their greatest need.
The second I closed the book I was straight online to learn more about this period of history about which I was previously so unforgivably ignorant. The Ministry of Special Cases is one of those books that has a lasting effect beyond the actual reading of it. I cannot recommend highly enough.
I picked up Englander's The Ministry of Special Cases with absolutely no idea what I was letting myself in for. In fact, the blurb made it sound like some sort of young adult dystopia, given that I didn't know anything about the context (a fact that makes me feel supremely ignorant in retrospect). That meant that every twist and turn was profoundly shocking, since it took me a few chapters to realise the harrowing nature of what I was reading.
We are introduced to Kaddish Poznan, an outcast from the Jewish community in Buenos Aires who chips names off the gravestones of disreputable relatives as a way of making a living. Kaddish is the quintessential dreamer, chasing his big break which is always just around the corner. He is tolerated by his clever, practical wife Lillian and despised by his hot-headed socialist son Pato. The frequent arguments between Kaddish and Pato are heartbreaking in their realism and venom; father and son cannot find a way to understand the other, and it is this conflict which ultimately leads to their downfall. Kaddish berates Pato for forgetting his ID card in a world where this document is the difference between freedom and incarceration. He urges him to change his Jewish face to a more socially acceptable appearance, and insists on burning Pato's more radical books in fear of a government that his son scorns. Pato, in his turn, derides his father's perceived lack of spine, and fails to recognise the seriousness of the situation his country is in. Because of this, he is taken - 'disappeared' by Argentinian military.
The rest of the book is devoted to Kaddish and Lillian's increasingly desperate attempts to get Pato released to them, faced with a government that won't even acknowledge he ever existed. The reader rises on Lillian's hopes and falls with her every time they are dashed. I found myself turning every page as quickly as possible, following the Poznan family down the various avenues and channels they use to try and find out what has happened to their son. I won't spoil the resolution of the book, but I was profoundly moved by the narrative style, the way humour was employed even at the times of the greatest torment, the portrayal of an unflinchingly uncaring authority that sent these poor desperate individuals running in circles in the time of their greatest need.
The second I closed the book I was straight online to learn more about this period of history about which I was previously so unforgivably ignorant. The Ministry of Special Cases is one of those books that has a lasting effect beyond the actual reading of it. I cannot recommend highly enough.
liliput3532's review
dark
emotional
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5
strasda8's review against another edition
4.0
I don’t believe this book would have ever made it onto my radar if it hadn’t been a personal recommendation from Jonny Diamond, editor-in-chief over at Literary Hub. The excitement of a personalized “quarantine book recommendation” was enough motivation to track a copy down and give it a shot. Two biggest takeaways; Nathan Englander is a legitimate talent, and Argentina’s Dirty War (1976-83) was significantly more devastating than I had realized.
The premise of the novel is pretty simple, Kaddish and Lillian Poznan are living in Buenos Aires in the 1970’s. Their son becomes a target of the junta and ends up one of the 30,000 “Disappeared” during the Dirty War. Englander does an amazing job bringing this time period to life. Whether it be the Poznan apartment, a graveyard in the middle of the night, or a jam-packed government building – the settings are all fully realized – as is the sense of dread that pervades as more and more Argentinians go missing under the reign of the freshly installed military government.
[b:The Ministry of Special Cases|1589797|The Ministry of Special Cases|Nathan Englander|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1388183728l/1589797._SY75_.jpg|30211] is not an always an easy read. It is full of dread and despair but never becomes too dark. Englander injects it with enough humor (the dialogue between Kaddish and Dr. Mazursky is particularly excellent) and plenty of life. Even at their absolute worsts, Kaddish and Lillian are compulsively readable. My heart felt for them, their missing son, and really Argentina in general. A fascinating read, especially if you lack any depth of knowledge of Argentina during that time period.
The premise of the novel is pretty simple, Kaddish and Lillian Poznan are living in Buenos Aires in the 1970’s. Their son becomes a target of the junta and ends up one of the 30,000 “Disappeared” during the Dirty War. Englander does an amazing job bringing this time period to life. Whether it be the Poznan apartment, a graveyard in the middle of the night, or a jam-packed government building – the settings are all fully realized – as is the sense of dread that pervades as more and more Argentinians go missing under the reign of the freshly installed military government.
[b:The Ministry of Special Cases|1589797|The Ministry of Special Cases|Nathan Englander|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1388183728l/1589797._SY75_.jpg|30211] is not an always an easy read. It is full of dread and despair but never becomes too dark. Englander injects it with enough humor (the dialogue between Kaddish and Dr. Mazursky is particularly excellent) and plenty of life. Even at their absolute worsts, Kaddish and Lillian are compulsively readable. My heart felt for them, their missing son, and really Argentina in general. A fascinating read, especially if you lack any depth of knowledge of Argentina during that time period.
dmendels's review
5.0
Highly recommend.
I first encountered Nathan Englander on The Moth. (Listen to this: https://themoth.org/stories/unhooked). Then read What we Talk About When we Talk about Anne Frank (excellent); and recently read his new novel and heard him speak and read from it. I had liked but not loved the novel, but hearing him read from it and speak about it was magical. Sought out, this, one of his earlier novels.
Set in Argentina during the late 70s, during the period of “the disappeared,” it is a tragic but beautifully written tale of a poor Jewish family facing the absurdity and cruelty of the state. It’s a desperate tale but written with such intelligence and wit that it isn’t just a bleak and depressing read.
I first encountered Nathan Englander on The Moth. (Listen to this: https://themoth.org/stories/unhooked). Then read What we Talk About When we Talk about Anne Frank (excellent); and recently read his new novel and heard him speak and read from it. I had liked but not loved the novel, but hearing him read from it and speak about it was magical. Sought out, this, one of his earlier novels.
Set in Argentina during the late 70s, during the period of “the disappeared,” it is a tragic but beautifully written tale of a poor Jewish family facing the absurdity and cruelty of the state. It’s a desperate tale but written with such intelligence and wit that it isn’t just a bleak and depressing read.
kmodes's review
4.0
Read on one of many bus rides in Argentina. Interesting introduction to the country's awful history in the 1970s and 1980s
abookishaffair's review
2.0
Kaddish is sort of on the outskirts of society. Literally a son of a whore, he isn't really welcome into mainstream society. He does the best that he can do and is allowed to perform a job as an eraser of names in Jewish graveyards. His son, Pato, is a university student in Argentina. This is the 1970s and the Dirty War is in play. Basically during the Dirty War, anyone seeming to not be in line with the military junta in charge had a chance of being "disappeared," where they would be taken away by the government never to be seen again.
Pato is taken away by the military junta, which throws Kaddish and Lillian, his wife into an uproar. Both deal with the tragedy in different ways. Kaddish is willing to believe that his son is probably dead and never returning. Lillian, on the other hand, decides to try to deal with the bureaucracy that is Argentina's government at the time and try to find out what happened to her son.
I read this book for book club and feel like I got a lot more out of the book once discussing it within the club but admittedly, I didn't like it much after first reading it. It's full of symbolism and after awhile, it seems like overkill. I don't mind a bit of symbolism (and in many cases, a bit of symbolism can add a lot to the book) but this was too much definitely.
Another thing that I didn't care for in the book was the lack of a sense of place. It's supposed to take place during the Dirty War in Argentina but with the nebulous way that the book is written, you would never know where the book was written other than the author writing that they are in Argentina. I was definitely disappointed in that. I can't tell if the author wanted it to be that unclear as to where they were or what.
The human story in the book, the story about a parent's love for their child is universal and important. I'm just not sure if this book really carried it off.
Bottom line: This book wasn't really for me.
Pato is taken away by the military junta, which throws Kaddish and Lillian, his wife into an uproar. Both deal with the tragedy in different ways. Kaddish is willing to believe that his son is probably dead and never returning. Lillian, on the other hand, decides to try to deal with the bureaucracy that is Argentina's government at the time and try to find out what happened to her son.
I read this book for book club and feel like I got a lot more out of the book once discussing it within the club but admittedly, I didn't like it much after first reading it. It's full of symbolism and after awhile, it seems like overkill. I don't mind a bit of symbolism (and in many cases, a bit of symbolism can add a lot to the book) but this was too much definitely.
Another thing that I didn't care for in the book was the lack of a sense of place. It's supposed to take place during the Dirty War in Argentina but with the nebulous way that the book is written, you would never know where the book was written other than the author writing that they are in Argentina. I was definitely disappointed in that. I can't tell if the author wanted it to be that unclear as to where they were or what.
The human story in the book, the story about a parent's love for their child is universal and important. I'm just not sure if this book really carried it off.
Bottom line: This book wasn't really for me.
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