My primary question for this book is if it is effective. Will anyone read it with an open mind and come away more educated and less bigoted against Jews? The collaborative nature of this book, how Acho took the initiative to reach out to Tishby, and how they worked through difficulties in their collaboration, gives me hope. Acho approaches his questions from a place of empathy and openness, which I found compelling. Tishby, by profession, is an effective communicator and manages to condense a lot of important information into digestible kernels. I cannot read this book with an outsider’s perspective to know if it can accomplish its goals. But it is a much needed project. On the whole, this is a good book to recommend to people who express genuine interest in understanding antisemitism as Jews experience it today. I imagine the book’s success will depend on how deeply ingrained antisemitic thought patterns are in the reader’s mind. I am not optimistic.
A few highlights that I hope more people will think about:
“If you find yourself on the same side of an argument as David Duke, the Iranian government, and ISIS, then I think you ought to reflect on how you got there in the first place.”
“Hamas is not acting as the Palestinian people’s bodyguard. In fact, it is exactly the other way around. Hamas uses the Palestinian people as their bodyguards when they attack Israeli civilians and then embed themselves in the Palestinian civilian population.”
And Tishby has a straightforward guide for people to tell if their criticism of Israel is antisemitic: Is your criticism an indictment of all Jews? Does it capitalize on antisemitic stereotypes? Or does it lay blame for an entire issue solely on Israel?
If the answer to any of those questions is yes, then indeed it is antisemitic. It is, in fact, easy to criticize Israel without being antisemitic. Vast numbers of Jews, including and perhaps especially Israelis, do so all the time.
One thing that the authors don’t confront is how deeply antisemitism is embedded in the Christian hegemonic culture. Things that don’t appear antisemitic are, and impact matters more than intention. But the non-Jewish world is not ready for that conversation, if it ever will be.
Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.0
The third book I’ve listened to in Swedish this year. Overall, it was satisfying as a suspense novel. The tension relied almost wholly on unreliable narrators. The twists might have been foreseeable, if I had taken the time to think. I didn’t, though - listening to it at 1.8 x speed in Swedish, I could keep up with it but I didn’t have time for much reflection. Pure escapism. Don’t look to this for anything original or transformative, but it’s a good read if you’re in the mood.
CW: Gore, suicide, human trafficking, homophobia, drug use, alcoholism, murder
I like the author‘s writing and have read two of their earlier dark fantasies. But I have deep misgivings about this book. People should write about whatever they want regardless of my opinion, obviously. Yet, what is the intended purpose of this book? Is it to entertain readers with a gruesome dark fantasy that happens to be set during the Shoah? Probably not, but many readers will likely take it as such. Is it to work through intergenerational trauma? Is it to counterbalance the horrible, vapid, and demeaning Holocaust stories already on the shelves? Perhaps. Does it achieve that goal? I doubt it.
The Jewish Book Council reviewer said:
“Wrath Became Her is a novel that is situated squarely in the Jewish gaze, for Jewish readers. That’s not to say that non-Jewish readers won’t enjoy it; they will. But it is unapologetically Jewish.”
Yes to unapologetically Jewish books. But should we not have a vocabulary other than “enjoyment” for talking about books set during the Shoah?
Whomever this book was written for, it wasn’t written for me.
Vera, the protagonist, is a golem created by a bereaved father using forbidden sorcery and parts of his murdered daughter’s body. She is newly made, yet she has some memories as well as knowledge of several languages and many Jewish texts inscribed into her clay body. Even though she is in the middle of the Nazi conquest of Lithuania, she learns about everything secondhand, and there is a sense of disconnection. She is not part of any community that is being destroyed, she is an outsider looking at their destruction, and deciding how she wants to help, if at all. Her participation in resistance is optional: “I didn’t know what I wanted anymore… he had made it sound so simple, creating my own purpose.” Everyone else is struggling to survive, and she’s having a golem identity crisis. For me, this rang hollow.
“My first and greatest crime was to be brought into this world. The more I thought about it, the angrier I became… I had never asked to be born, but I wasn’t willing to simply crumble back into clay. I didn’t know what I wanted or where my future waited for me. The only thing I could do was keep moving, and maybe someday this world would make sense to me.”
Golem teen angst against the backdrop of mass murder? Not my cup of tea.
There was a lot that didn’t work for me in this book, despite the author’s often poetic writing. The audiobook narrator’s American accent was grating. The recurring refrain “Next year in America” made me cringe. It was meant to be poignant, I think. Her kind-of boyfriend says: “You are a memorial. Our history, our faith, it’s written all over you. As long as you survive, so will we.” Hopeful words, but also hollow. There was no golem to preserve “our history, our faith,” or even a single life. At least 95% of Jews in Lithuania were murdered by Nazis and Lithuanians. Even a novel that tries to portray the Shoah more realistically, like this one, ends up sugarcoating the horrors. “Mir veln zey iberlebn” - but a fictional golem has nothing to do with it.
As for the wrath in the title, who is Vera really angry at? Everyone? Her hatred of her creator, the bereaved father, is unalloyed: “his pain and ignorance did not absolve him.” At the end, she rages against the Jews hiding in the forest when the rabbi doesn’t want to use forbidden sorcery. “No, the abomination is you humans, you petty cruel humans, you are the ones who caused this violence, you bring suffering and pain and then you create creatures like me in order to fix it. It is you humans!” Raging against dispossessed Jews on death’s door is… a choice. Putting the Nazis and their victims on the same plane, as “petty cruel humans… who caused this violence” is a choice.
One of the least effective cozies I have read. The murder doesn’t take place until at least the halfway mark, and there was no successful build up of suspense. It read like a travel brochure. Admittedly, it fulfilled the cozy part of the genre requirements quite well. It’s frustrating that Swedish crime novels are too gory and depressing, but the cozy ones so far are just meh.
I’m not sure what I think of this book. Very gory, haunting, grim, deeply disturbing. I don’t regret reading it, though, and I will read the next book. I chose it because the spine art reminded me of Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, but the tone, atmosphere, and writing style of the books couldn’t be more different. Still, a worthwhile read if you are in the mental space to handle the darkness and violence. Also, without spoilers, there is a somewhat feline character who is intriguing.
(Spoilers ahead). Beautiful storytelling. I enjoy her writing. It evokes a mood of slow and exquisite purposelessness, with an edge of dreamlike desperation. Addie LaRue is in essence doomed to repeat the same day over and over again for three centuries, deprived of what she yearns for most - authentic human connection.
The story covers a span of history and yet has no responsibility to that history. Addie is unable to make lasting connections, and so though she experiences a great deal, she is disconnected from it all. She is a phantom with flesh and feelings. She learns, but she does not grow. Hers is a strange, involuted world. She lives history, yet it does not touch her at all. This is part of her curse. Because no one can remember her from one interaction to the next, no one in history matters - unless they are an artist she can inspire, or the strange and unique Henry, the only one who can remember her. And history doesn’t matter to the author either, or else she wouldn’t have written that Beethoven scene. Could she not have come up with a different artist whose last moments were not so meticulously documented by a friend?
The beauty of the story exists as long as I don’t overthink it. Like a mirage, it vanishes into memory when I get too close. I enjoyed reading the book, and perhaps that is enough.
My favorite quote: Someone lifts a cat to the back of a chair “where he does his best impression of an inconvenienced bread loaf.”
Side note: The character Henry is Jewish but don’t expect any positive representation.
I wanted to like this book. I expected to like it, since several people whose opinions I respect consider it a meaningful and transformative story. I feel slightly guilty for disliking a book so concerned with transcending limitations, the power of positive thinking, self-actualization and all manner of ostensibly worthwhile things. The photos were the only good thing about the book. They were a blissful reprieve from the heavy-handed, moralizing text.
I like more subtlety with my allegory.
For the first part, I was preoccupied with visualizing the contortions of Jonathan Livingston Seagull as he soared across the pages, blindly pursuing perfect flight and risking his own life and the lives of his fellow gulls for that dubious goal. The blind pursuit of perfection usually amounts to self-destruction, but Jonathan Livingston Seagull was spared that eventuality by spiritual transcendence. How fast can gulls really fly? What would happen if they tried to dive 10 feet below the ocean surface for fish? And why disparage scavengers, who perform an ecologically vital role? I know that’s not the point, but for me, the story raised more questions about bird physiology and marine ecology than about the meaning of life. Gulls fly the way gulls fly; why do they have to fly “better”? They wouldn’t be gulls anymore.
The last two parts of the book focused less on physical limitations and more on spiritual potentials. It was hard to see past the insufferable air of superiority that the supposedly transcendent inevitably assume. Jonathan Livingston Seagull is not just a prophet, he is a bodhisattva, a savior, bearing a message that is all the more condescending for his patient delivery: If you can’t transform your obstacles away with positive thinking, then you’re just not trying hard enough.
This book sets a shockingly bad example for how to take care of a cat. The protagonist tries to feed the poor kitten chocolate cake, which is potentially lethal because of the chocolate. Even if the cake had no chocolate, cake is an extremely unhealthy food for cats to eat, even as occasional treats. Also, it seems that the protagonist starves the kitten for two days before allowing the poor thing to eat his own chicken sandwich. He yells and shouts at the poor kitten repeatedly when it refuses to eat his chocolate cake. Also disturbing is how the adults stand idly by as the protagonist mistreats his new kitten. This might be the worst children's book I have read in terms of portraying how to treat other creatures. It promotes dangerous and abusive behavior.
This is a charming story of one kitty's adventure to rescue her favorite blankie. The drawings are detailed but not so much that it overbalances the simple elegance of the stripey protagonist. The language is simple and direct. Kittens of all reading levels should be able to follow along, and perhaps add their own embellishments and sound effects during the action scenes. This book is sure to appeal to anykitty with a favorite blankie, but be warned that the story may be too intense for some anxiety-prone kittens with blankie attachment issues. It may be advisable to snuggle your kitten up in their favorite blankie before you start reading, so that your kitten will have the comfort and reassurance of its proximity. This is also a cautionary tale for those who have been tempted to hop into a garbage can or even to conceal themselves in a grocery bag destined for recycling.
One minor quibble that in no way detracts from the enjoyment of the story is that the protagonist Tabby, a tabby, describes herself as a patchwork kitty, just like her patchwork blankie. However, it is generally accepted that tortoiseshell and calico kitties are more accurate examples of patchwork patterning. My Sprocket felt great kinship for the patchwork blankie in the story because his piebald coat is similar to a patchwork blankie that was patched by someone who doesn't know how to sew.
Overall, this is a highly recommended addition to your kitten reading library.
(Spoilers ahead) Chester’s beloved family start neglecting him. Heartbroken, he leaves in search of a new home. Dragging his little doghouse behind him, and accompanied by his bird friend, he quests far and wide, only to be met with a series of disappointments. The whimsical art and poor little Chester’s persistence struck a chord with me. It is a sweet book, a sad book, and a reminder not to neglect our loved ones. And yes, Chester does find his home, or rather, it finds him.