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THE BEAUTY QUEEN OF JERUSALEM

None of the characters shine enough to inspire or enlighten readers.

A tale of several generations of women cursed to love men who love other women.

As the book opens, Gabriela Siton relates the story of her mother Luna’s death, and in describing her final year, Yishai-Levi, a journalist and nonfiction author, captures the family dynamic and lays out the drama—Luna doesn’t get along with Gabriela; she’s unhappy with her husband, David; she didn’t get along with her mother, Rosa; and all this has left Gabriela at loose ends. Gabriela seeks answers from her Aunt Allegra in Tel Aviv, trying to understand the family “curse,” and then the book shifts mostly to Rosa’s and Luna’s viewpoints. It abruptly shifts back in the end to Gabriela’s, skipping over years, when earlier, the narrative plodded slowly through days. There are so many characters that we only get a brief look at some of them, and so many disappointments and heartbreaks that they begin to lose their impact. Ordinary lives can be made beautiful, but when they belong to characters who are either unsympathetic or rudimentary, they are rendered ineffective. The characters’ faith, which influences so many of the important decisions in their lives, mostly comes across as routine, habit, or even superstition. Some of the characters become involved in the struggle for modern Israel, and their political fervor is similarly underdeveloped.

None of the characters shine enough to inspire or enlighten readers.

Pub Date: April 5, 2016

ISBN: 978-1-250-07816-2

Page Count: 384

Publisher: Dunne/St. Martin's

Review Posted Online: Jan. 20, 2016

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 1, 2016

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THE YELLOW BIRD SINGS

A mother and her child-prodigy daughter struggle to survive the Holocaust by telling stories and remembering the power of...

Rosner’s debut novel is a World War II story with a Room-like twist, one that also deftly examines the ways in which art and imagination can sustain us.

Five-year-old Shira is a prodigy. She hears entire musical passages in her head, which “take shape and pulse through her, quiet at first, then building in intensity and growing louder.” But making sounds is something Shira is not permitted to do. She and her mother, Róża, are Jews who are hiding in a barn in German-occupied Poland. Soldiers have shot Róża’s husband and dragged her parents away, and after a narrow escape, mother and daughter cower in a hayloft day and night, relying on the farmer and his wife to keep them safe from neighbors and passing patrols. The wife sneaks Shira outside for fresh air; the husband visits Róża late at night in the hayloft to exact his price. To keep Shira occupied and quiet the rest of the time, Róża spins tales of a little girl and a yellow bird in an enchanted but silent garden menaced by giants; only the bird is allowed to sing. But when Róża is offered a chance to hide Shira in an orphanage, she must weigh her daughter’s safety against her desire to keep the girl close. Rosner builds the tension as the novel progresses, wisely moving the action out of the barn before the premise grows tired or repetitive. This is a Holocaust novel, but it’s also an effective work of suspense, and Rosner’s understanding of how art plays a role in our lives, even at the worst of times, is impressive.

A mother and her child-prodigy daughter struggle to survive the Holocaust by telling stories and remembering the power of music.

Pub Date: March 3, 2020

ISBN: 978-1-250-17977-7

Page Count: 304

Publisher: Flatiron Books

Review Posted Online: Jan. 12, 2020

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 1, 2020

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WE WERE THE LUCKY ONES

Too beholden to sentimentality and cliché, this novel fails to establish a uniquely realized perspective.

Hunter’s debut novel tracks the experiences of her family members during the Holocaust.

Sol and Nechuma Kurc, wealthy, cultured Jews in Radom, Poland, are successful shop owners; they and their grown children live a comfortable lifestyle. But that lifestyle is no protection against the onslaught of the Holocaust, which eventually scatters the members of the Kurc family among several continents. Genek, the oldest son, is exiled with his wife to a Siberian gulag. Halina, youngest of all the children, works to protect her family alongside her resistance-fighter husband. Addy, middle child, a composer and engineer before the war breaks out, leaves Europe on one of the last passenger ships, ending up thousands of miles away. Then, too, there are Mila and Felicia, Jakob and Bella, each with their own share of struggles—pain endured, horrors witnessed. Hunter conducted extensive research after learning that her grandfather (Addy in the book) survived the Holocaust. The research shows: her novel is thorough and precise in its details. It’s less precise in its language, however, which frequently relies on cliché. “You’ll get only one shot at this,” Halina thinks, enacting a plan to save her husband. “Don’t botch it.” Later, Genek, confronting a routine bit of paperwork, must decide whether or not to hide his Jewishness. “That form is a deal breaker,” he tells himself. “It’s life and death.” And: “They are low, it seems, on good fortune. And something tells him they’ll need it.” Worse than these stale phrases, though, are the moments when Hunter’s writing is entirely inadequate for the subject matter at hand. Genek, describing the gulag, calls the nearest town “a total shitscape.” This is a low point for Hunter’s writing; elsewhere in the novel, it’s stronger. Still, the characters remain flat and unknowable, while the novel itself is predictable. At this point, more than half a century’s worth of fiction and film has been inspired by the Holocaust—a weighty and imposing tradition. Hunter, it seems, hasn’t been able to break free from her dependence on it.

Too beholden to sentimentality and cliché, this novel fails to establish a uniquely realized perspective.

Pub Date: Feb. 14, 2017

ISBN: 978-0-399-56308-9

Page Count: 416

Publisher: Viking

Review Posted Online: Nov. 21, 2016

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Dec. 1, 2016

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