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buer's review against another edition
4.0
The Sonderberg Case almost reads like a stream of consciousness attempt to describe a moment in the narrator's life that lead to his life completely changing.
There are many moments in the story when its trajectory changes suddenly or without warning. There are details that seem out of place or are mildly confusing, a reality that Wiesel himself occasionally acknowledges, as when he ended one especially short chapter with "This, too, must be in the novel." It did not make sense contextually, but for some reason it needed to be there, so it was.
The narrator, a theater critic turned legal journalist (for one case), meets someone from the first (and I believe only) trial he ever covered for his newspaper. That person sets off all kinds of memories for our main character, who then recounts how he met his wife and got his job and how the passion left their marriage and what happened when he tried to find his family. Each of these things is tangentially related to the case, and the narrator struggles to reconcile his life with the case that he sees as the impetus for so many things that happened to him.
This is not a flaw in the storytelling. It makes reading confusing at times, but following the chain of the narrator's consciousness is interesting and illustrates the roller coaster of his internal state beautifully.
In the last chapter the story fades away and the narrator reflects on everything that happened. He muses about family and justice and personal histories and closes out the book almost abruptly. But it feels right.
Strongly suggested.
There are many moments in the story when its trajectory changes suddenly or without warning. There are details that seem out of place or are mildly confusing, a reality that Wiesel himself occasionally acknowledges, as when he ended one especially short chapter with "This, too, must be in the novel." It did not make sense contextually, but for some reason it needed to be there, so it was.
The narrator, a theater critic turned legal journalist (for one case), meets someone from the first (and I believe only) trial he ever covered for his newspaper. That person sets off all kinds of memories for our main character, who then recounts how he met his wife and got his job and how the passion left their marriage and what happened when he tried to find his family. Each of these things is tangentially related to the case, and the narrator struggles to reconcile his life with the case that he sees as the impetus for so many things that happened to him.
This is not a flaw in the storytelling. It makes reading confusing at times, but following the chain of the narrator's consciousness is interesting and illustrates the roller coaster of his internal state beautifully.
In the last chapter the story fades away and the narrator reflects on everything that happened. He muses about family and justice and personal histories and closes out the book almost abruptly. But it feels right.
Strongly suggested.
brianajae's review against another edition
5.0
As a journalist and an avid theatre fan, a book whose main character was a theatre reviewer for a newspaper was ideal. The book was moving and compelling.
athira's review against another edition
4.0
Couple of weeks back, I went to the library to pick a book from the new books shelf, but found it suddenly unavailable. Which was good because I found this book instead - The Sonderberg Case by Elie Wiesel. I still have Elie Wiesel's [b:Night|1617|Night (Night, #1)|Elie Wiesel|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1158292300s/1617.jpg|265616] sitting on my shelf, and I really want to read it - I promise, except I'm not sure what I'm waiting for. Night is a slim book, but if The Sonderberg Case is any indication, I'm sure it also packs in a whopping punch! Since I had no idea regarding what this book was about, and I found the cover very alluring, I went home with this book instead.
In The Sonderberg Case, drama critic Yedidyah is asked to cover the murder of Werner Sonderberg's uncle by the nephew himself. Not having even an iota of knowledge about courts and their operation, Yedidyah did not think it a great idea for him to write about a very important trial, but his editor had full faith in him. Rather than view the trial as a routine courtroom event, Yedidyah focuses his drama-trained lens at the proceedings and writes about it as he would review a play. The trial ends up making a huge impact on Yedidyah, causing him to rehash old memories and question choices made by him and his ancestors.
I absolutely loved Elie Wiesel's prose. I found it a truly delightful and introspective experience as I pondered over Yedidyah's thoughts and questions. I found myself hooked right from the first sentence, and that was without knowing anything about the book or what to expect. Most of the book gave me the feel of reading a drama, in honor of the lead character's passion. It's not a play at all, but it's not regular fiction either. We follow a few characters whose choices constitute the book, and it is those choices that we as readers deliberate on.
There are several powerful themes explored in this book. Significant among them is that of guilt - Not exactly a guilt brought on by your own actions, rather the one caused by the actions of your ancestors - guilty because your ancestor was a Nazi; guilty because you survived WW2 when your whole family was murdered. Guilty because you feel you are responsible for your ancestor's actions. Guilty because you now live for a million other people. I found this a very interesting premise, because I usually read WW2 novels set in that period, or books that follow the survivors years later. But it's rarely that we come across one that actually makes you look at the descendants and wonder what they are going through. (I do understand that it's not meant to be generic, but there are probably people who go through the same emotions.) I thought the author covered this aspect impressively, because I did get the impression that it's not a black and white issue, rather the feelings run deep, deep enough that it can affect your choices for the rest of your life. How do you try to isolate your past from the present?
Yedidyah as a character felt like a sponge to me - someone who doesn't know what to do or what he wants, but finds out on the way through conversations with people. His grandfather was his biggest influence. In one sense, he was adventurous, in the other, not so steady. Most of the time, he questions about life, chance and existence. In fact, the book is philosophically charged, but never preachy. I loved how the questions asked were ones to which even as a reader I couldn't give an answer.
One interesting thing I noted was the switch between first and third person narration in this book, even though both are from the perspective of the same person. While in the first person narration, Yedidyah is mostly looking at his current state of affairs and desparing over his life. The third person narration mostly establishes the past and what led Yedidyah to his present state. There is some overlap, since the distinction isn't exactly set in concrete. But, I didn't find the switch distracting - it only made me curious. The only problem with having a single narrator (a device I no longer seem to enjoy as much) is that the other characters felt a bit flat and one-dimensional to me. I found I could easily stereotype the other cast.
The narration, however, is not straight-forward. At one moment, the author is talking about the trial, in the next moment, the focus is on the narrator's grandfather, then his education, then the defendant, then the trial again, the professor, then Jerusalem and back to the grandfather and the Holocaust. It took me a while to get used to it. But I never got lost. Rather, I savored it - the author was really able to hold my interest in all the threads. At first, I couldn't understand the purpose for the jumping around, but soon it became clear that most of it is the build-up. In the present, Yedidyah is very disillusioned and it is evident the trial had something to do with that. But eventually, it turned out to be something much deeper and the trial a trigger. What I did find confusing was the timeline. There were some events that I couldn't exactly place chronologically. I knew if they were the before or the after, but not exactly when before or when after.
Except for those jarring points, I thought the book was powerful. Eventually the timeline didn't matter to me, as I felt very moved by this book. I kept vacillating between 4 and 5 stars, but when I wasn't boxing the book into a rating, I found myself wondering about the questions the book was asking. I also happened to read it at the right time - when I was looking for something significant and profound to get me out of my reading rut. Eventually, I realized that I enjoyed the book a lot, isn't that what matters in the end?
In The Sonderberg Case, drama critic Yedidyah is asked to cover the murder of Werner Sonderberg's uncle by the nephew himself. Not having even an iota of knowledge about courts and their operation, Yedidyah did not think it a great idea for him to write about a very important trial, but his editor had full faith in him. Rather than view the trial as a routine courtroom event, Yedidyah focuses his drama-trained lens at the proceedings and writes about it as he would review a play. The trial ends up making a huge impact on Yedidyah, causing him to rehash old memories and question choices made by him and his ancestors.
I absolutely loved Elie Wiesel's prose. I found it a truly delightful and introspective experience as I pondered over Yedidyah's thoughts and questions. I found myself hooked right from the first sentence, and that was without knowing anything about the book or what to expect. Most of the book gave me the feel of reading a drama, in honor of the lead character's passion. It's not a play at all, but it's not regular fiction either. We follow a few characters whose choices constitute the book, and it is those choices that we as readers deliberate on.
There are several powerful themes explored in this book. Significant among them is that of guilt - Not exactly a guilt brought on by your own actions, rather the one caused by the actions of your ancestors - guilty because your ancestor was a Nazi; guilty because you survived WW2 when your whole family was murdered. Guilty because you feel you are responsible for your ancestor's actions. Guilty because you now live for a million other people. I found this a very interesting premise, because I usually read WW2 novels set in that period, or books that follow the survivors years later. But it's rarely that we come across one that actually makes you look at the descendants and wonder what they are going through. (I do understand that it's not meant to be generic, but there are probably people who go through the same emotions.) I thought the author covered this aspect impressively, because I did get the impression that it's not a black and white issue, rather the feelings run deep, deep enough that it can affect your choices for the rest of your life. How do you try to isolate your past from the present?
Yedidyah as a character felt like a sponge to me - someone who doesn't know what to do or what he wants, but finds out on the way through conversations with people. His grandfather was his biggest influence. In one sense, he was adventurous, in the other, not so steady. Most of the time, he questions about life, chance and existence. In fact, the book is philosophically charged, but never preachy. I loved how the questions asked were ones to which even as a reader I couldn't give an answer.
One interesting thing I noted was the switch between first and third person narration in this book, even though both are from the perspective of the same person. While in the first person narration, Yedidyah is mostly looking at his current state of affairs and desparing over his life. The third person narration mostly establishes the past and what led Yedidyah to his present state. There is some overlap, since the distinction isn't exactly set in concrete. But, I didn't find the switch distracting - it only made me curious. The only problem with having a single narrator (a device I no longer seem to enjoy as much) is that the other characters felt a bit flat and one-dimensional to me. I found I could easily stereotype the other cast.
The narration, however, is not straight-forward. At one moment, the author is talking about the trial, in the next moment, the focus is on the narrator's grandfather, then his education, then the defendant, then the trial again, the professor, then Jerusalem and back to the grandfather and the Holocaust. It took me a while to get used to it. But I never got lost. Rather, I savored it - the author was really able to hold my interest in all the threads. At first, I couldn't understand the purpose for the jumping around, but soon it became clear that most of it is the build-up. In the present, Yedidyah is very disillusioned and it is evident the trial had something to do with that. But eventually, it turned out to be something much deeper and the trial a trigger. What I did find confusing was the timeline. There were some events that I couldn't exactly place chronologically. I knew if they were the before or the after, but not exactly when before or when after.
Except for those jarring points, I thought the book was powerful. Eventually the timeline didn't matter to me, as I felt very moved by this book. I kept vacillating between 4 and 5 stars, but when I wasn't boxing the book into a rating, I found myself wondering about the questions the book was asking. I also happened to read it at the right time - when I was looking for something significant and profound to get me out of my reading rut. Eventually, I realized that I enjoyed the book a lot, isn't that what matters in the end?
suzmac's review against another edition
3.0
The premise drew me in. A writer has extactly the life he sought and yet experiences an identity crisis. I've not read Elie Wiesel before but I understand the thoughtful introspection and moral quandries found here are typical of him. The novel is a bit somber and did not go in the direction I expected. But I enjoyed the reading even if a bit darker than I signed-up for.
melissafirman's review
1.0
I have the utmost respect and admiration for Elie Wiesel. I do. And I'm embarrassed to say that up until now, I've never read any of his books. Not even Night.
(Although, my embarrassment on not reading Night is probably not as great as the embarrassment of a certain former college president of my alma mater who, upon introducing Mr. Wiesel as a keynote speaker during an event, REFERRED TO WIESEL'S BOOK NIGHT AS A WORK OF FICTION! I kid you not. Mr. Wiesel himself kindly but firmly set this dingbat straight.)
I digress. But that is an unbelievable story, is it not? I mean, can you imagine? I'm not much of a fan of this woman, truth be told.
Anyway, so I had high expectations going into The Sonderberg Case. This short novel is the story of Yedidyah Wasserman, a drama critic living in New York City with his actress wife and two sons. Because of his theatrical background, Yedidyah is assigned by the newspaper for which to cover the trial of one Werner Sonderberg, who is accused of killing his (Werner's) uncle. Werner pleads "guilty and not guilty," setting in motion a series of courtroom scenarios captured by Yedidyah, to much acclaim.
(I was picturing Yedidyah as somewhat of a Dominick Dunne, man-about-town type of character.)
For the first part of the novel, there are passages of writing that were fluid and poetic, almost causing me to slow down and take in the prose. But then it seemed as if the plot became too heavy for what is a less than 200 page novel. In that span, Wiesel gives his reader the Sonderberg trial and the effect it has on Yedidyah personally, as well as on his marriage. He presents some unspoken business of Yedidyah's family history, their experiences and fate during the Holocaust, and the dynamics between Werner and the uncle. There's also the mention of something medically wrong with Yedidyah, which I'm thinking is cancer but we never quite figure out.
It's all a little hard to keep straight. (Oh, and through all of this, the narration changes (often) from first to third person, and back again.) It makes for a choppy story. Perhaps this is because the novel was translated from the French. (If so, this is the second translation from the French I've had difficulty with - the first being The Elegance of the Hedgehog.)
(Cringes and shudders at the memory of that particular book.)
I wanted to like this one more than I did, but The Sonderberg Case failed to win my favor. However, it won't deter me from giving Wiesel another chance by reading more of his work - fiction AND nonfiction - in the future.
(Although, my embarrassment on not reading Night is probably not as great as the embarrassment of a certain former college president of my alma mater who, upon introducing Mr. Wiesel as a keynote speaker during an event, REFERRED TO WIESEL'S BOOK NIGHT AS A WORK OF FICTION! I kid you not. Mr. Wiesel himself kindly but firmly set this dingbat straight.)
I digress. But that is an unbelievable story, is it not? I mean, can you imagine? I'm not much of a fan of this woman, truth be told.
Anyway, so I had high expectations going into The Sonderberg Case. This short novel is the story of Yedidyah Wasserman, a drama critic living in New York City with his actress wife and two sons. Because of his theatrical background, Yedidyah is assigned by the newspaper for which to cover the trial of one Werner Sonderberg, who is accused of killing his (Werner's) uncle. Werner pleads "guilty and not guilty," setting in motion a series of courtroom scenarios captured by Yedidyah, to much acclaim.
(I was picturing Yedidyah as somewhat of a Dominick Dunne, man-about-town type of character.)
For the first part of the novel, there are passages of writing that were fluid and poetic, almost causing me to slow down and take in the prose. But then it seemed as if the plot became too heavy for what is a less than 200 page novel. In that span, Wiesel gives his reader the Sonderberg trial and the effect it has on Yedidyah personally, as well as on his marriage. He presents some unspoken business of Yedidyah's family history, their experiences and fate during the Holocaust, and the dynamics between Werner and the uncle. There's also the mention of something medically wrong with Yedidyah, which I'm thinking is cancer but we never quite figure out.
It's all a little hard to keep straight. (Oh, and through all of this, the narration changes (often) from first to third person, and back again.) It makes for a choppy story. Perhaps this is because the novel was translated from the French. (If so, this is the second translation from the French I've had difficulty with - the first being The Elegance of the Hedgehog.)
(Cringes and shudders at the memory of that particular book.)
I wanted to like this one more than I did, but The Sonderberg Case failed to win my favor. However, it won't deter me from giving Wiesel another chance by reading more of his work - fiction AND nonfiction - in the future.
lisa_rwrmusings's review against another edition
2.0
It's not that this was a horrible book. In fact, there were parts I enjoyed. Overall, the book was all over the place, and I feel like the reader is left with too many questions. This book was a little to deep and a little to heavy at parts for my liking.
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