A debut collection of nine stories that explore the condition of being Jewish with an often hallucinatory, epigrammatic eloquence that is, as advertised, reminiscent of the fiction of Isaac Singer, Saul Bellow, and especially Bernard Malamud. The pieces are set variously in contemporary Brooklyn Heights and Jerusalem, Nazi-ravaged Europe, and Stalinist Russia, and they feature such comically tormented characters as the title story’s sex-starved husband, who is granted “relief” from his wife’s extended menstrual cycle by the rabbi who sends him to a prostitute; a devoutly Orthodox Jew pressured by his materialistic wife into moonlighting as a department-store Santa Claus (“Reb Kringle”); and “The Gilgul of Park Avenue,” an unassuming Wasp who inexplicably “realizes” he has become an Orthodox Jew—to the bellicose dismay of his astonished wife (“You threw out all the cheese, Charles. How could God hate cheese?”). As beguiling as Englander’s comic tales are, though, his skills are even more impressively displayed in several pieces that strike more somber notes. “Reunion,” for example, paints a graphic first-person picture of a manic-depressive Brooklynite whose travels in and out of institutions make a living hell of his marriage and fatherhood. “The Tumblers” fashions its fable-like story of an insular city that resists contact with the outside world into a trenchant allegory of all the stages of Jewry under Nazism, from denial through martyrdom. “The Twenty-Seventh Man” is unpublished writer Pinchas Pelovits, who finds his voice, and completes the work he was born to create, after he is mistakenly rounded up among a group of eminent writers doomed to execution by Stalinist thugs. And the concluding “In This Way We Are Wise” memorably dramatizes the emotions of an American Jew in Jerusalem imperfectly adapting to both ongoing terrorist bombings and the city’s phlegmatic fatalism. An exemplary fusion of what T.S. Eliot called “Tradition and the Individual Talent,” and a truly remarkable debut.