Scan barcode
A review by katyoctober
The Romance Reader by Pearl Abraham
5.0
Within just a couple of pages I was hooked. Rachel, the titular character, who is about 12 years (give or take) as the book begins (16 or so by the end) has such a strong and clear voice, so much so that the novel seems autobiographical. I’m always amazed by authors who can recapture the interior workings of children and teenagers - it’s such a time of change and strangeness and massive introspection.
I adore the main character, Rachel, and love how Pearl Abraham has captured the contradictions of being that age; yearning for autonomy and freedoms but with parents who don’t recognise the growing adult; intellectual and sensual awakening; all in all a lot of introspection. The voice reminds me a lot of Judy Blume’s timeless books, although they are for young adults (equally enjoyed by adults) and this is an adult book. They are capturing a similar place/point in American history, 1960s New York/ New Jersey outside the city, after all. I’d say this book is suitable for young readers too as there’s not anything too graphic, although there are allusions to more mature elements - from 12 and upwards I’d say. In fact, I’d truly recommend this to young women so they can understand how much freedom they live with.
The cast of family characters is also a wonderful read, and coming from a large (non-Hasidic) family I found this ensemble cast, notably Leah and David, who are Rachel’s similar- in age siblings, to be so real. The siblings are bound by their family ties but they are different people, and conflict arises as each sibling sees the world a little differently. Some of the children really buy into the Hasidic lifestyle, others, less so, and this creates tension within the large, rambling family.
Abraham captures the simultaneous joy and desolation of a family holiday for the teenage Rachel; the family turn up in Sea Gate with no reservations and no real plan, leaving Rachel desperate for adventure. I loved this line: “The YMCA is here also, and we stop to see if there’s anything to do. The bulletin board lists ceramics classes, judo, ballet. Nothing we can do without belonging already. There’s a sign that says the swimming pool is closed until mid-September.”
The book is also a book for readers, and which reader doesn’t love that. Rachel stays up late flicking the pages of her library books and can’t check out enough. She eyes up the adult books at the library and duels with the local librarian and bookseller to get access to her precious pages. A reader is a reader is a reader, and can’t be quashed. Her love reading never leaves her as she grows up and her life changes.
I read this book after watching and reading Unorthodox earlier this year, the smash hit of early Pandemic days. I have to say that “The Romance Reader” is a nice counterpoint. Some memoirs of people who once lived in very religious communities trade off shock value and the otherness of the lifestyle, but this is a pleasant, interesting, and subtle insight into a different way of life. Restrained.
I should point out that this is not a memoir, it just feels very autobiographical, in the best way - very authentic and not titillating. Not many Hasidic references are explained in detail, the information given is contextual and relies on some pre existing knowledge. For that reason I would recommend either a) doing some research before hand, but better, b) just underline words as you go and look them up. As someone not unfamiliar with concepts such as “kosher/treif”, “minyan”, “yeshiva”, etc, I liked that these words and concepts were blended seamlessly into the story and not explained, as the book flows very well this way and is more natural. It feels a balanced and fair representation of the community, not a relentless skewering; it’s full of tolerance. At the same time, there’s no denying that the women of this book (actually, the men, too)...the people in this book are massively bound by their preordained roles.
Rachel’s mother, Tove, is a fully realised character. Again, like her daughter Rachel, she’s a person full of contradictions and unexpectedness, just like a real person. The mother, at some turns, smiles at her children’s minor infractions of Hasidic code (reading late into the night), but at times is a harsh and relentless upholder of the strict norms. I enjoyed that she is inconsistent like a real person, and is neither a saintly Miss Honey type nor a demonic oppressor. The mother has her own desires, which are alluded to, and these include both the spiritual and the mundane - for example, after giving birth to her youngest child, Esther, the mother is keen to lose weight and fit into her own clothes. Abraham shows her acute social observance in a scene with the mother and her daughters where she is trying on pre baby clothes, and (rightfully) accuses her daughters of being embarrassed of “[their] fat mother”. Equally, the mother is a dedicated and observant Jewish woman, as shown in her hurt when her children, variously, breach the moral codes she has instilled in them throughout their lifetime. There is conflict after conflict between Tove and Rachel.
I also particularly loved seeing the portrayal of a Hasidic couple where the wife isn’t so isolated and suffering (as there are in some accounts, Unorthodox and other exposé memoirs spring to mind). The mother loves the father and misses him greatly when he’s away working. Although the mother is the consummate homemaker and the father a little hapless and impractical, the parents appear a strong and steady couple whose relationship is full of great love, despite their financial challenges, and is lovely to read. There is a part when one of the children describe the parents decision making process as something that happens in the bedroom, where mother is “soft”. It’s a deeply tender portrayal, and is hopeful. However difficult each of the children’s growing pains may be, you have the sense that everything will turn out okay because they grew up in love and mutual understanding. Some may disagree with me on this reading of the relationship but it’s what I took away from it.
Thinking more about the main character, Rachel, she is really a perfect character to discuss her situation. That is, living in a fairly restrictive “ultra orthodox” environment. This is because Rachel is “old enough to know better, young enough to do it anyway” as the wallsign saying goes. Rachel has a pretty full awareness of the religious and cultural code she’s required to follow, but she’s young enough and adolescently rebellious enough to question and challenge some of the strictures that her mother, father and wider community expect her to uphold. I don’t think this is a spoiler as it’s early on in the book, but for example, Rachel breaks fasting on Yom Kippur, which is the most holy day in the Jewish calendar. It’s a day of remembrance and repentance and marks the end of the old year and is the one holiday, of many, followed by Jews almost regardless of level of observance. I can’t pretend I wasn’t shocked at the scene where Rachel furtively eats an old pretzel with her friend in total flagrance of the Yom Kippur requirements; her guiltiness afterwards is complex as it’s made of many components, and the emotion of the scenes that follow are so well written. Despite not growing up in a culture as rule-bound as Rachel’s, the naughtiness and subsequent guilt is so so relatable and real. I think Pearl Abraham with this scene truly captured the inbetweenness of teenagers and what a complex stage of life it is. When you move from being a child to an adult you lose the excuse of ignorance and you become truly responsible for every action. No longer can your parents be blamed solely for your bad behaviour, for a bad upbringing. This idea of the family vs. The individual repeats itself throughout.
I’m so impressed by how well Abraham captures those moments of girlhood; for example, on choosing a new dress for the High Holidays, Rachel is so anxious to go to the dress shop as her mother shops at the supermarket and prepares recipes. They finally make it to the dress shop, where Rachel sees a high waisted grey dress which she desperately wants - it’s not just a dress to her, but a window to a life as a sophisticated teen. Abraham captures the new feeling of protectiveness and awareness over your body at that age too - “Ma nods and send me to the back with Mrs Fixler, who doesn’t hand me the dress to put on by myself. She comes with me as if I can’t dress myself, and I’m glad I thought to wear a slip so she doesn’t see me in my underwear. Her dry fingers are like rough grass, and preparing for the next touch, trying to figure out where it will be, is like following a moving itch.” And the part about the sudden self consciousness of her underarm hair and her machinations for remove all trace of it.
Abraham captures family life flawlessly. The contrast of a vicious parental argument after heading home in the car from Rosh Hashanah celebrations will be a familiar scene, whether orthodox or not: “Fatehr remains silent, and no one says anything the rest of the way home. The prayers for a sweet year don’t mean anything in our family. Our year goes sour in less than an hour. A rhyme. I want to repeat it. Our year goes sour in less than an hour. It’s true. It’s our family anthem.”
Whilst I’ve referred to infractions and peccadilloes throughout, the truth is that Rachel’s disobedience is of the mind and not of the body, and that is what makes this such a fantastic novel. Rachel is a fantastically intelligent, driven, brave young woman and I loved her journey and her resistance; she follows in the great history of Jane Eyre, Lizzie Bennet et al. No spoilers here, it’s about who she is and not specifically what she does to resist.
The novel is full of plot and kept me totally enthralled and up late reading. I saw another reviewer describe it as “perfect” and I’m inclined to agree. I will keep this book in my heart for a long time, and I’ll keep it on my shelves. I recommend without reservation.
I adore the main character, Rachel, and love how Pearl Abraham has captured the contradictions of being that age; yearning for autonomy and freedoms but with parents who don’t recognise the growing adult; intellectual and sensual awakening; all in all a lot of introspection. The voice reminds me a lot of Judy Blume’s timeless books, although they are for young adults (equally enjoyed by adults) and this is an adult book. They are capturing a similar place/point in American history, 1960s New York/ New Jersey outside the city, after all. I’d say this book is suitable for young readers too as there’s not anything too graphic, although there are allusions to more mature elements - from 12 and upwards I’d say. In fact, I’d truly recommend this to young women so they can understand how much freedom they live with.
The cast of family characters is also a wonderful read, and coming from a large (non-Hasidic) family I found this ensemble cast, notably Leah and David, who are Rachel’s similar- in age siblings, to be so real. The siblings are bound by their family ties but they are different people, and conflict arises as each sibling sees the world a little differently. Some of the children really buy into the Hasidic lifestyle, others, less so, and this creates tension within the large, rambling family.
Abraham captures the simultaneous joy and desolation of a family holiday for the teenage Rachel; the family turn up in Sea Gate with no reservations and no real plan, leaving Rachel desperate for adventure. I loved this line: “The YMCA is here also, and we stop to see if there’s anything to do. The bulletin board lists ceramics classes, judo, ballet. Nothing we can do without belonging already. There’s a sign that says the swimming pool is closed until mid-September.”
The book is also a book for readers, and which reader doesn’t love that. Rachel stays up late flicking the pages of her library books and can’t check out enough. She eyes up the adult books at the library and duels with the local librarian and bookseller to get access to her precious pages. A reader is a reader is a reader, and can’t be quashed. Her love reading never leaves her as she grows up and her life changes.
I read this book after watching and reading Unorthodox earlier this year, the smash hit of early Pandemic days. I have to say that “The Romance Reader” is a nice counterpoint. Some memoirs of people who once lived in very religious communities trade off shock value and the otherness of the lifestyle, but this is a pleasant, interesting, and subtle insight into a different way of life. Restrained.
I should point out that this is not a memoir, it just feels very autobiographical, in the best way - very authentic and not titillating. Not many Hasidic references are explained in detail, the information given is contextual and relies on some pre existing knowledge. For that reason I would recommend either a) doing some research before hand, but better, b) just underline words as you go and look them up. As someone not unfamiliar with concepts such as “kosher/treif”, “minyan”, “yeshiva”, etc, I liked that these words and concepts were blended seamlessly into the story and not explained, as the book flows very well this way and is more natural. It feels a balanced and fair representation of the community, not a relentless skewering; it’s full of tolerance. At the same time, there’s no denying that the women of this book (actually, the men, too)...the people in this book are massively bound by their preordained roles.
Rachel’s mother, Tove, is a fully realised character. Again, like her daughter Rachel, she’s a person full of contradictions and unexpectedness, just like a real person. The mother, at some turns, smiles at her children’s minor infractions of Hasidic code (reading late into the night), but at times is a harsh and relentless upholder of the strict norms. I enjoyed that she is inconsistent like a real person, and is neither a saintly Miss Honey type nor a demonic oppressor. The mother has her own desires, which are alluded to, and these include both the spiritual and the mundane - for example, after giving birth to her youngest child, Esther, the mother is keen to lose weight and fit into her own clothes. Abraham shows her acute social observance in a scene with the mother and her daughters where she is trying on pre baby clothes, and (rightfully) accuses her daughters of being embarrassed of “[their] fat mother”. Equally, the mother is a dedicated and observant Jewish woman, as shown in her hurt when her children, variously, breach the moral codes she has instilled in them throughout their lifetime. There is conflict after conflict between Tove and Rachel.
I also particularly loved seeing the portrayal of a Hasidic couple where the wife isn’t so isolated and suffering (as there are in some accounts, Unorthodox and other exposé memoirs spring to mind). The mother loves the father and misses him greatly when he’s away working. Although the mother is the consummate homemaker and the father a little hapless and impractical, the parents appear a strong and steady couple whose relationship is full of great love, despite their financial challenges, and is lovely to read. There is a part when one of the children describe the parents decision making process as something that happens in the bedroom, where mother is “soft”. It’s a deeply tender portrayal, and is hopeful. However difficult each of the children’s growing pains may be, you have the sense that everything will turn out okay because they grew up in love and mutual understanding. Some may disagree with me on this reading of the relationship but it’s what I took away from it.
Thinking more about the main character, Rachel, she is really a perfect character to discuss her situation. That is, living in a fairly restrictive “ultra orthodox” environment. This is because Rachel is “old enough to know better, young enough to do it anyway” as the wallsign saying goes. Rachel has a pretty full awareness of the religious and cultural code she’s required to follow, but she’s young enough and adolescently rebellious enough to question and challenge some of the strictures that her mother, father and wider community expect her to uphold. I don’t think this is a spoiler as it’s early on in the book, but for example, Rachel breaks fasting on Yom Kippur, which is the most holy day in the Jewish calendar. It’s a day of remembrance and repentance and marks the end of the old year and is the one holiday, of many, followed by Jews almost regardless of level of observance. I can’t pretend I wasn’t shocked at the scene where Rachel furtively eats an old pretzel with her friend in total flagrance of the Yom Kippur requirements; her guiltiness afterwards is complex as it’s made of many components, and the emotion of the scenes that follow are so well written. Despite not growing up in a culture as rule-bound as Rachel’s, the naughtiness and subsequent guilt is so so relatable and real. I think Pearl Abraham with this scene truly captured the inbetweenness of teenagers and what a complex stage of life it is. When you move from being a child to an adult you lose the excuse of ignorance and you become truly responsible for every action. No longer can your parents be blamed solely for your bad behaviour, for a bad upbringing. This idea of the family vs. The individual repeats itself throughout.
I’m so impressed by how well Abraham captures those moments of girlhood; for example, on choosing a new dress for the High Holidays, Rachel is so anxious to go to the dress shop as her mother shops at the supermarket and prepares recipes. They finally make it to the dress shop, where Rachel sees a high waisted grey dress which she desperately wants - it’s not just a dress to her, but a window to a life as a sophisticated teen. Abraham captures the new feeling of protectiveness and awareness over your body at that age too - “Ma nods and send me to the back with Mrs Fixler, who doesn’t hand me the dress to put on by myself. She comes with me as if I can’t dress myself, and I’m glad I thought to wear a slip so she doesn’t see me in my underwear. Her dry fingers are like rough grass, and preparing for the next touch, trying to figure out where it will be, is like following a moving itch.” And the part about the sudden self consciousness of her underarm hair and her machinations for remove all trace of it.
Abraham captures family life flawlessly. The contrast of a vicious parental argument after heading home in the car from Rosh Hashanah celebrations will be a familiar scene, whether orthodox or not: “Fatehr remains silent, and no one says anything the rest of the way home. The prayers for a sweet year don’t mean anything in our family. Our year goes sour in less than an hour. A rhyme. I want to repeat it. Our year goes sour in less than an hour. It’s true. It’s our family anthem.”
Whilst I’ve referred to infractions and peccadilloes throughout, the truth is that Rachel’s disobedience is of the mind and not of the body, and that is what makes this such a fantastic novel. Rachel is a fantastically intelligent, driven, brave young woman and I loved her journey and her resistance; she follows in the great history of Jane Eyre, Lizzie Bennet et al. No spoilers here, it’s about who she is and not specifically what she does to resist.
The novel is full of plot and kept me totally enthralled and up late reading. I saw another reviewer describe it as “perfect” and I’m inclined to agree. I will keep this book in my heart for a long time, and I’ll keep it on my shelves. I recommend without reservation.