The Alluring Nicole Krauss

      Leo Gursky utters the phrase “And yet” more than fifty times throughout the History of Love. During her evening reading, Nicole Krauss said that this deceivingly simplistic statement “represented him in a way no other words could.” However, the phrase also seems to profoundly resonate with the author herself.  Her revelations about life and its value or meaning, are not novel ideas and yet Krauss conveys her thoughts in a manner that revitalizes their nature entirely.

Nicole said that “writing is a venue in which we may say and touch things we otherwise could not.” She stressed the importance of rhythm and sound and silence- noting that the phrasing of words is just as important as their content. These lessons about sentence structure and character development are fundamental but not ground-breaking. However, the passion enveloped in her words and the way in which poetic reflections poured from her mouth without hesitance, was a testament to the author’s sincerity.

In his Washington Post review “Parallel Lives,” Ron Charles also examines the “and yet” that clings to Krauss and her work. He describes The History of Love with its “characters named for other characters, cases of plagiarism and mistaken identity, and several crucial coincidences and chance meetings that are all maddeningly scrambled in an elliptical novel that shouldn't work but does.”  Charles calls Krauss’ book a spider web, a description the author would probably sanction because she “believes metaphor is the basic unit of literature and of language.”  Her book begins in the cobwebs of Leo’s life but ends as an elegant mesh of what Charles calls “beautiful confusion.” “The fractured stories of The History of Love” the reviewer says, “ fall together like a desperate embrace.”

Nicole seems to approach her writing the way she approaches life- without a master plan. She says she must “start before she knows where she will arrive.” Although she likens writing to “being skinned alive,” she also proclaims that it is the road she travels to find empathy. When she spoke to the Jewish Lit class, she declared that writing “comes from some necessity.” It also “is from the gut.”  It would seem that this idea is contrary to The History of Love with its interweaving plotlines and subtle allusions. It would seem the characters in Krauss’ book are painted so intricately they could not possibly be instinctual. However the author explained this incongruity when she clarified that nothing in the book was included based on “pure whimsy.” That would “go against every grain of her instinct.” Rather, writing is “honed instinct.”

Nicole’s talk harkened back to Aryeh Lev Stollman’s visit in many ways. The two seemed to be especially analogous in their quest to resist labels. Krauss refuses to surrender to categorization. If she thinks too much about others’ perception of her work, than “writing ceases to be a freeing experience.” Stollman was also wary of assumptions. The term “Jewish American writer” seemed almost distressing to both authors. Aryeh had been quick to mention the ways that literature transcends culture, a concept that Nicole preached as well.

To me, categorizing doesn’t seem as dangerous as these two writers claim. Why must a label be restricting? Why can’t an author collect labels as they produce work. Can’t a writer be labeled a Jewish American author only to be branded something else later on? The idea of being classified connotes restrictive properties but doesn’t it also celebrate a genre or type of work one has already mastered? Nicole acknowledged this idea briefly when she mentioned that labels could also be seen as “markers of the things she has done throughout her life.” In her text she writes that calling Mr. Mortiz “a Jewish writer…or, worse an experimental writer, is to miss entirely the point of his humanity, which resisted all categorization.” And yet. Couldn’t Mr. Mortiz’s body of work, along with the work of Stollman or Krauss, actually be an expansive anthology of labels that are gratifying rather than restricting?  Perhaps, the key is to embrace the categorizations bestowed upon you.

Part of Nicole’s success, in my opinion, stems from her ability to form connections. Not just the compassionate relationships she forms with her characters, but also with every individual who cracks the spine of The History of Love. This relationship, as Krauss described it, is “more profound than one might ever experience in life.” The book invites the reader, not only to delve into the author’s mind, but also to explore and possibly re-interpret the events relayed. Krauss said that, despite the word’s origin, the author is not the final authority. Rather, the reader is one who “finds things in the text that are far richer than even the writer may have intended.”  

It took not even two sentences of Nicole’s excerpt from Great House for the audience to realize that poignancy that saturates The History of Love exists in all Krauss’ prose. In a father’s tender, expressive monologue to his youngest  son, he says that he “seemed just the tiniest bit closer than the rest of us to the essence of things.” This is the effect Nicole Krauss has on her readers. Throughout The History of Love she provides us with a greater understanding of nature, the human condition, and the soul. She is closer to “life’s essence” than the characters she creates.  

It's a great day to check out The Power of The Word exhibit!

What's That? The G8 Summit is today? The NATO summit is this weekend?  Learn about the leaders here. Then, give them some suggestions for their free-time reading! 

Most Well-Read City In America

My hometown, Alexandria, VA, was deemed the NUMBER ONE Most Well-Read city in America! I've never been so proud! Checkout the The Huffington Post article Here! (Notice the mention of Hooray For Books, the bookstore that will always be #1 in my eyes) Washington DC also made the cut! Very Exciting! 

Power of The Word: Leaders, Readers and Writers

Two in one day! I'm setting records...


I am beyond excited to announce the American Writers Museum's first ever online exhibit. Please explore and comment! 


Click Below!

Nadia Kalman's The Cosmopolitans

     Placid, thoughtful, and respectfully rebellious, Nadia Kalman speaks fervently about her life and the life of her characters. Kalman’s soul does not plague her like it does her character Stalina. While Stalina’s soul materializes in the form of a handkerchief, Kalman’s soul materializes in the form of her novel. It is not her burden but rather her strength; the very thing that gives her freedom and allows for empathy and vivacity in her work. When Nadia spoke to the Jewish Literature class, she said that the characters in her book who run from their history and ignore their culture are the ones who cannot escape the Russian Soul. Through The Cosmopolitans Nadia shows readers that she is not a victim of her past; rather, she has the strength to embody it. 

     A self-proclaimed lucky immigrant, Kalman explained that there is a bit of her heart in every character she creates. Like Milla, she has tried to obey the rules and conform. Like Yana, she has been tempted to rebel. Like Katya she has, at times, felt very lost. While her similarities allow her to empathize with each character individually, they do not provide her with full control over their actions. “Sometimes,” Nadia said, “ your characters are not willing to go where you ask them. They have different paths in mind.” Nadia listens to the people that she creates. She tries to give them as much freedom as one can give an imaginary person. Perhaps this is the reason why The Cosmopolitans is so successful; it is a conversation between an author and her characters. 

     In an article from Red Thread Magazine,“Can Russian Lit Be the New Jewish Lit?” Yoni Apap states that Kalman’s The Cosmopolitans “is, at its core, a story about what makes this profoundly Russian family so recognizably American” (Apap). Maybe the novel’s core is bigger than nationality. When asked about how she conveys immigrant issues through writing, Nadia replied that “maybe immigrant issues are also just human issues in general.” Many of the conflicts that the Molochniks face are typical family disagreements. Nadia remarked that immigrant children face the same family problems that all children do. Despite their nationality, children tend to “live in a different world from their parents.” 

     Apap aptly praises Kalman’s style as “a mash-up of Russian absurdist influence and… Jewish-American magic realism” (Apap). Part of what makes Kalman’s humor so effective is that it stands in stark contrast to the serious themes of the book. The author combines playful anecdotes about love and marriage with sinister themes of tyranny and culture divides. Kalman addressed this combination when she spoke to the Jewish Literature class. Portions of her novel are sweet and sentimental but, on their own, they do not represent a realistic and authentic interpretation. “We would like to think that love moves the world,” Kalman said with a grin. Her smile faded, as she added, “but tyranny- that moves the world it too.” 

     Nadia Kalman’s novel addresses the ways in which the children of immigrants are affected by their parents’ history. In The Cosmopolitans, The youngest Molochnik daughter, Katya, has never been to Russia but she is plagued and haunted by a Russian figure from her parents’ past. Katya’s curse, Nadia explained, was intended to show how children of immigrants “are still tied to their parents’ home lands” no matter where they are born. 

     One of the novel’s most engaging characters is Lev, Osip’s reclusive brother and the story’s narrator figure. In her article Apap says that at times Lev is “frustratingly mysterious.” This obscurity, however, also gives the novel a truly authentic voice. Kalman acknowledged Lev’s ambiguity in class. He is not willing to convey the truths of his past. In fact, the author explained, “Lev writes to avoid and to forget it.” He is the character that has “become broken by the Soviet system.” Lev realizes he will never live a full life and so he masks his grief by detailing the trials and tribulations of the Molochnik family. While Lev may be trying to cover up his emotions, Kalman herself is not one to hide. Her book is blatant and appropriately unapologetic. 

     Although her characters may grapple with identity, Kalman’s writing shows that the author has a profound sense of self. Her style is unique and personal. Nadia whittled a 370-page novel into what it is now. She described to the Jewish Literature class, her omission process. Anything that didn’t shine new light on a character or work to further the plot was erased. Nadia described how the editing process was one of the hardest aspects of the book. Kalman said she wanted to allow herself to throw things away while simultaneously watching to be sure she was not “editing the personality from [her] work.” Kalman’s character Milla, also seems to struggle in this department. Throughout the text, the eldest Molochnik daughter often tries to edit out any attribute of her personality that doesn’t conform to a status quo. In the end, both Kalman and Milla have demonstrated their freedom and individuality. 

     At the end of “Can Russian Lit Be the New Jewish Lit?” the author calls The Cosmopolitans a “literary Declaration of Independence” which is absolutely appropriate. Kalman’s novel ends with sparks of hope for the Molochnik family as they take advantage of their rights to “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” 

Apap, Yoni. "Can Russian Lit Be the New Jewish Lit?" Red Thread Mar. 2011. Web. 

Aryeh Lev Stollman

I'm posting within two days of each other? It must be summer! 

     This year, I took a class called Jewish Lit Live. It was, quite honestly, life changing (no hyperbole here). I got the chance to meet five incredibly awesome , elegant, charming, curious and oh so creative authors: Aryeh Lev Stollman (The Far Euphrates), Nadia Kallman (The Cosmopolitans) , Pearl Abraham (The Romance Reader), Erica Jong (Fear of Flying) and Bel Kaufman (Up the Down Staircase). Jealous? Don't be, I'll share my thoughts! 

     Aryeh Lev Stollman is, in many ways, a man of contradictions. A brilliant writer and a successful neuroradiologist, he belongs to the realms of both science and art. The author of The Far Euphrates is pensive and articulate just like his protagonist. He is soft-spoken yet vocal, and timid yet self-aware. He is also an openly gay, once orthodox, Jew. Pigeonholing Dr. Stollman into any of these categories, however, would be reducing him to a series of labels; something the author adamantly warns us against. “Labels,” Stollman said, “are okay to orient oneself, but can be misguiding as well. They are actually a little dangerous.” 

     Stollman is, himself, the best example for his own statement. His inconsistencies appear to be the source of his strength and talent. Because of them, his compassion, knowledge, and perspective permeate throughout his pages. And so, ironically, it is perhaps the author’s unpredictable nature that allows him to create a book brimming with a coalescence of ideas and characters and beliefs and feelings, all as varied as he is. When asked about merging the worlds of literature and medicine, the author replied that his two passions “feed on each other.” Being a doctor adds a layer of compassion to his writing. But being a writer provides him with an understanding as a doctor. Most importantly, there is room only for empathy, never judgment in either field. “You can’t judge your patients. You just have to help them. And you can’t judge your characters,” you just have to write them. 

     Dr. Stollman provided new perspective for the Jewish Lit Live class. During his evening reading, he asked readers to be wary of assumptions and placing labels on the authors that we read. Assumptions are like the serpent Stollman alludes to in The Far Euphrates, sneaky and at times misleading. Dr. Stollman discussed the reasons why an author might not be keen on being deemed a Jewish American author. If a writer categorizes himself, he narrows his audience. “If you call yourself a Jewish author, then you worry you will only appeal to a Jewish crowd,” Aryeh said adding, that writing “transcends culture.” 

     When he spoke to our class, Stollman remarked that, because an author is their creator, there is “something about you in all of your characters.” In her New York Times book review, “In a World of Secrets,” Margot Livesey remarks that “The narrator, Alexander, is, like the author, the son of a rabbi.” This is just one of countless similarities between the author and his main character. While Stollman is quick to point out that the book is not a memoir, he does admit that there is certainly an autobiographical nature to the novel. The mere fact that the author chose give his narrator his own Hebrew name, proves this point. However, upon meeting Dr. Stollman, one can discern that, like he said, he is similar, not just to his protagonist, but to almost all of the characters he has created. 

    When he read from and spoke about his new novel, soon to be published, Stollman discussed the importance of history. “It affects us culturally,” he said. “Culture tries to shape you, but even one individual can change a culture.” When he said this, he was speaking about his newest protagonist, an ancient fourteen-year-old princess. However, he was also unconsciously, speaking about himself. Just by exploring the history of his culture, Stollman provided a new layer and facet of understanding. Livesey writes that “most novels would be content to show how our lives are shaped by history, but this one seems to be after something even larger.” The author of The Far Euphrates asks questions “raised by the Holocaust and its legacy: how we must try to solve for ourselves the riddle of God's existence and cultivate a sense of mercy in an unforgiving age.” 

     Livesey directs readers’ attentions to an important quote in The Far Euphrates where Alexander’s father remarks that their “ forefathers originally came not from Kana'an, not from an earthly Jerusalem, but from the far Euphrates with its source in Eden...We cannot forget it, or ever find it again.'' Stollman’s book is much like this mystical river. A reader will never find a book quite like it and will certainly never forget it. See for yourselves. 

<http://www.nytimes.com/books/97/09/21/reviews/970921.21livesey.html>.

Stay tuned for my reaction to Nadia Kallman's visit!

In Honor Of The Beloved Maurice Sendak

No doubt about it--because of Maurice Sendak, Children's Literature has been changed irrevocably. The New York Times calls Sendak "the most important children's book artist of the 20th century." "He wrenched the picture book out of the safe, sanitized world of the nursery and plunged it into the dark, terrifying, and hauntingly beautiful recess of the human psyche." Read the article here

"Please don't go. We'll eat you up we love you so" -- Maurice Sendak, Where the Wild Things Are