In Kreuter’s novel, a Jewish summer camp reflects the complicated politics of the outside world.
It’s the summer of 2013 in Ontario, and Camp Burntshore, a sleepaway camp for Jewish youngsters and teenagers, is just starting to buzz with the arrival of campers and counselors. Even the camp’s meticulous program director, Deborah “Debs” Glassman,is caught up in the energy, taking her time to notice the “smell of the woods, the fear and desire, the startlingly fast, startlingly efficacious sensation that this was the best place on Earth.” However, the fun quickly ends for several counselors who are dismissed the first night for smoking cannabis. Twenty-one-year-old counselor Ruby Shacter only narrowly misses expulsion by going the bathroom at just the right moment. The camp’s surprising solution to its sudden counselor shortage is to bring in Israeli soldiers to fill in gaps and offer moments of cultural exchange. Ruby, who’s the treasurer of York University’s Students Against Israeli War Crimes and an outspoken anti-Zionist, doesn’t miss any opportunity to stir debate about the new arrivals. Her position starts to soften, though, after she meets dreamy soldier Etai, who claims to hate the occupation just as much as she does. He refers to Canadian Jews as having “diasporic weakness,” but with a winking grin that starts to win Ruby over. As flirtation evolves into a summer romance, Ruby struggles to justify her political positions and confused feelings—especially in regretful letters to her Palestinian best friend, Seema, back home. Then a second announcement from the camp’s administration sharpens Ruby’s focus: The owner’s son, Brett, plans to acquire undeveloped government land across the river, historically linked to the Black Spruce First Nation.
Kreuter effortlessly captures the strange, youthful energy of the camp, which is overexcited and pleasantly aimless, due to the abundance of nature, weed, and hormones. He takes readers on several bird’s-eye-view tours, dipping into the minds and cabins of various characters to expose their darkest and funniest wishes. Kreuter also plays with perspective by cleverly trapping into the heat of Ruby’s debates about Israeli occupation before zooming out slightly to remind readers of her privilege, as when Seema writes that, for her, camp always meant refugee camp, or when another counselor notes why she cares about Israel: “because the one thing I want this summer is to bang a hot Israeli soldier!” In the second section, the shifts between real-world and campier concerns make it a bit unclear exactly which follies that Kreuter is trying to roast on the campfire. For example, in the latter part of the novel, Ruby’s time at the camp centers on figuring out what the different counselors think about the land acquisition plan—and whether she can make a stand between rehearsals for a production of the beloved musical Tel Aviv! What remains consistent, however, is the author’s masterful characterization. With strong voices like Ruby’s to guide them, readers certainly won’t regret spending a summer at Burntshore.
Smart prose blends youthful concerns with complex issues in a timely summer read.