The two books I spent my Shabbos reading were The Sonderberg Case
Wiesel’s book details the experience of a theater-lover turned theater-critic who is forced into covering a trial because, well, if modern trials prove anything, it’s that they’re quite theatrical in their nature. The book takes place during the 1950s or 1960s during a time rife with trials bringing former Nazis to justice (think: the Eichmann Trial of 1961), but unlike what you might expect, the trial doesn’t put a former Nazi on the stand. Rather, the defendant is accused of killing his German “uncle” on U.S. soil. The book is far less about the trial itself than it is about the reporter, Yedidyah, and his inner dialogue with his supposed grandfather and the people he thinks are his relatives who perished in the Holocaust. His inner dialogue ends up revealing some fascinating tidbits about the life he’s led and what he thought he knew, and so as to not spoil it, I won’t spoil it. The book ends with an awkward dialogue between Yedidyah and the accused many years after the trial takes place, and the accused comes clean about what really happened. It’s not exactly what you would have suspected, or maybe it was more predictable than Wiesel would have wanted.
The book was difficult to point down, if only because you want to know exactly who Yedidyah really is and what exactly happened between the accused and his German “uncle,” but the book often loses itself by switching back and forth between first and third person, which I found quite bothersome. Likewise, the inner dialogues that Yedidyah has are beyond what I would call stream-of-consciousness. In fact, they dabble in the completely random and out-of-nowhere stream of thought. He quotes French thinkers and great rabbis and the Talmud and the works of great authors long dead, and sometimes, it feels forced and confusing. However, perhaps that’s just part of who Yedidyah is -- confused, profound, and brilliant. The book was translated from the original French, which makes me wonder whether something was lost in translation. Overall, it was an excellent read, if you can get past the jumps in the storyline, the out-of-the-blue quotes, and random thought narratives.

The way that Louisa is presented after she becomes brushed with English charm seems trite and forced, and later in the book it’s almost as if she’s a completely different person. Yes, she goes through a bevy of shocking and life-altering changes, but the character shouldn’t stray that much from who she begins the book as. It put me off, unfortunately, and I felt no sympathy for the character as the book went on, despite what I can only assume was the author’s point of having the reader see a variety of tragedies -- those before, during, and after the Holocaust, many that were completely unrelated to the Holocaust. I was left wondering whether the author was trying to minimize suffering of the Holocaust, as if to say, “There are many modes of suffering for the Jews, the Holocaust was just one drop in a bucket.” Similarly, I grew annoyed with Otto, Louisa’s and Rolf’s good-natured friend, and Rolf was, to me, the most cold and inconsiderate of characters, despite his work to bring refugees to the U.S. The characters in The Oriental Wife seemed an anomoly to me -- I just don’t get them. Even the daughter, Emma, confused me. Her character development was weak and her relations with a Cambodian seemed almost unnecessary and forced (as I’m sure me mentioning it now feels to you). Only Sophie, the doctor's kind and considerate wife seemed remotely normal.
Oh! And I must mention that the emphasis on "assimilated" seems beyond forced on many occasions, as if the author insists that we understand these aren't your typical Jews. No, they're from Germany, and they go out for BLTs and stir cream into their coffee (violation times two!) on page 194. On another occasion, the live-in nanny insists on making bacon for Rolf for breakfast, that he must it it! Ugh. We get it, okay?
Should you read The Oriental Wife? Yes and no. If you believe in the importance of character development and consistency, the book might drive you nuts. If you’re up for a fairly fluid narrative that has you wondering what will befall the storyline next, then perhaps it’s worth your time. As for the title? Well, it's a dead giveaway in the beginning of the book -- don't worry, you won't be led on.
Stay tuned for more book reviews and video blogs and a Sabra giveaway. I know, I know ... I put you guys on hold on so many things, but I'm on the road! Need anything from Nebraska? Let me know.