Leamos
Opening: "Either everything matters, or everything is an outrageous waste of time. That’s what she would have said, if anyone had asked her. But no one asks crazy old ladies for their opinions."
This is a book about what matters and what doesn't, what's temporary and what's eternal, what it means to live, and how joy and sorrow juxtapose with purpose and expectation.
But more than anything, it's a book about the importance of the story itself.
What's impressive is how Dr. Horn explores all of that without the story ever feeling weighed down by the existential themes or the 2000 years of history. For the most part, the book feels light, fitting well into magical realism and/or fantasy genres.
This is an unapologetically Jewish book told from the perspective of a character whose Jewishness is so old and so engrained it doesn't seem to register for her unless there is an active persecution of Jews happening - she seems far more concerned with familial relationships, her relationship with her eternal partner, the impact of her gender on her experiences, and how all of these change and don't change over the millennia.
The book is filled with references to Jewish culture, scripture, writings, and history, none of which are made explicit in any way. All the important characters are Jewish, very well fleshed out, very obviously flawed, and they reflect certain elements of global and historical Jewish communities. The story itself follows a Jewish narrative pattern to the point that <spoiler> the ending itself is not an ending, as Rachel and Elazar so often say through the book - there are no endings, only more beginnings. </spoiler>
I found this all very refreshing, and I find myself wondering if it might be challenging to connect with the story, and even with Rachel herself, if the reader is unfamiliar with Jewish culture and history.
I rather enjoyed the re-imagining of Rabbi Yochanan's parentage and lifetime, and I absolutely loved the idea of <spoiler> the High Priest's son becoming the youngest student of his own son. </spoiler> It just felt so very poignant, fit so beautifully with the whole exploration of parenthood as sacrifice, and brought the story full circle in various ways.
Overall, this is a gorgeous, imperfect, and too short book about a gorgeous, imperfect, and too long life.
Opening: "Either everything matters, or everything is an outrageous waste of time. That’s what she would have said, if anyone had asked her. But no one asks crazy old ladies for their opinions."
This is a book about what matters and what doesn't, what's temporary and what's eternal, what it means to live, and how joy and sorrow juxtapose with purpose and expectation.
But more than anything, it's a book about the importance of the story itself.
What's impressive is how Dr. Horn explores all of that without the story ever feeling weighed down by the existential themes or the 2000 years of history. For the most part, the book feels light, fitting well into magical realism and/or fantasy genres.
This is an unapologetically Jewish book told from the perspective of a character whose Jewishness is so old and so engrained it doesn't seem to register for her unless there is an active persecution of Jews happening - she seems far more concerned with familial relationships, her relationship with her eternal partner, the impact of her gender on her experiences, and how all of these change and don't change over the millennia.
The book is filled with references to Jewish culture, scripture, writings, and history, none of which are made explicit in any way. All the important characters are Jewish, very well fleshed out, very obviously flawed, and they reflect certain elements of global and historical Jewish communities. The story itself follows a Jewish narrative pattern to the point that <spoiler> the ending itself is not an ending, as Rachel and Elazar so often say through the book - there are no endings, only more beginnings. </spoiler>
I found this all very refreshing, and I find myself wondering if it might be challenging to connect with the story, and even with Rachel herself, if the reader is unfamiliar with Jewish culture and history.
I rather enjoyed the re-imagining of Rabbi Yochanan's parentage and lifetime, and I absolutely loved the idea of <spoiler> the High Priest's son becoming the youngest student of his own son. </spoiler> It just felt so very poignant, fit so beautifully with the whole exploration of parenthood as sacrifice, and brought the story full circle in various ways.
Overall, this is a gorgeous, imperfect, and too short book about a gorgeous, imperfect, and too long life.