Customer Reviews

Joy Comes in the Morning: A Novel

5 star:		(6)
4 star:		(3)
3 star:		(3)
2 star:		(4)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

The first thing that the reader notes is the book is impossible to put down. Mr. Rosen builds a special rapport with the reader that makes his story compelling. The reader is left each time the book is put down, with the irresistible urge to find out what will happen next.

Rosen tells a wonderful and realistic tale of a Reform Woman Rabbi in Manhattan. The book describes her relationship to the Jewish faith, from a Reform Perspective. This perspective is a difficult one, as the concept of Reform Judaism has at its core, the same beliefs as all Judaism, but tempered by a modern interpretation of the scriptures that lends itself more easily to the combination of civil and religious life in the vast Materialistic and Capitalistic and Cacophonous reality of modern society.

Yet Deborah, the lady Rabbi who is the protagonist of Rosen's story, does not in any way lack spiritualism or connection to her faith. She has a great and mighty dedication to her beliefs. And she does her utmost to convey that feeling to her congregants and to all that she may meet. Some would say, that she made some very rash decisions and took some very unorthodox actions within Rosen's story. But this is for the reader to evaluate in the privacy of the mind.

One thing is clearly true. The book shows the stark contrast and the interesting co-existence of human Joy and human Sadness, as they live within us, all the time, yet most of the time, they balance within us to make us a whole person. When that balance is no longer within our control, we lose our ability to moderate that and we also lose our ability to operate in regular day to day society.

Rosen is acutely wonderful at illustrating this dichotomy in his book. For all who have struggled with the concepts of the different forms of Judaism, this book offers a new perspective; a perspective that puts the power of decision and free choice back into the individual's mind and heart, and not into anyone else's.

The book is highly recommended for all with any interest whatsoever in theology and the concept of God. Regardless of one's religion, one can related to the stark, yet gentle realism of Rosen's work.

Jonathan Rosen derives the title and theme of his inspiring novel from the Book of Psalms. It is the promise of hope after despair that animates his elegant "Joy Comes in the Morning." Each of Rosen's characters is suffused with pain: the pain of Holocaust memories, the pain of thwarted dreams, the pain of an unfulfilled life. Each major character wrestles with loss of faith and a dwindling belief in life's possibilities. And, true to the counsel offered in Psalm 30, each struggles to realize that however daunting and long a night's pain can be, a new day dawns with promise.

"Joy Comes in the Morning" adheres to a conventional plot and does not break any new ground stylistically. Its towering strength is how its characters grapple with the timeless problems of existential anguish, search for meaning and rediscovery of purpose. Rosen confidently imbues the three crucial characters of his novel with a universality that binds them to us. Henry Friedman, victimized by a debilitating and humiliating stroke, assiduously plans his own suicide. His skeptical son, Lev, lacks focus and confidence in the wake of a failed relationship and the mental breakdown of his best friend. Both men find comfort in rabbi Deborah Green, whose strength and compassion belie her own crumbling faith.

The interplay between Henry, Lev and Deborah becomes the leaven through which Rosen probes questions of faith, family and love. Each character's humanity includes faults, and Rosen's willingness to permit the three to struggle, without roadmaps or guarantees, is one of the best aspects of his writing. Before his abortive attempt to end his life, Henry, whose wife describes him as a "wounded, loving, mercurial man," writes a final letter to his son. In this deeply moving letter, Henry enjoins his son to "submit" to "things larger than ourselves." These "obligations sustain us," Henry writes, but he is unclear as to what these duties are. Lev, "shy, empathic and self-conscious," sets out to discover what his father's cryptic command entails.

Lev's quest takes him to Deborah, whom he meets as she comforts the comatose Henry in a hospital room. Both Lev and Deborah are recovering from failed relationships; each slowly, irreversibly is beginning to redefine the place of religion and spirituality in their respective lives. It is no accident that they are drawn to each other, despite their glaring surface differences. As a rabbi, Deborah is a risk-taker; her earthy sensuality symbolizes her humanity just as her emotionally-liberating, free-flowing tears counterbalance her astonishing capacity for rational study and intellectual rigor. Ironically, doubts and uncertainties provide the mortar for a lasting relationship between the two.

Although Jonathan Rosen's novel features Jewish characters, it is universally appealing. "Joy Comes in the Morning" captures the fears many of us experience in times of crisis and the terror we may feel when traditional faith-based solutions disappear. It is existential loneliness, the realization that we must come up with our own solutions to bind up emotional wounds, that drives the novel. With sensitivity, humor and faith, Rosen offers us a compelling answer.

This is a wonderful page-turner. The reader is privy to the inner thoughts of a woman rabbi. She struggles in her religious and personal lives especially facing the difficulty of being authentic to herself while having to perform for a congregation.

We also get very real depictions of end-of-life issues, aging parents, mental illness, all while being held together with a plot that propels the book forward briskly.

Rosen has succeeded in describing and developing the inner life of each one of his characters.

Note that there is much specific reference to Jewish liturgy in the novel as two of the characters significantly struggle with its meaning and power. Though I am familliar with Jewish liturgy and was refreshed with this kind of commentary-in-a-novel, my hunch is that people not familliar with Jewish liturgy will also find it compelling because it isn't forced. The spiritual struggles the characters are facing are real and their reference to and dialog with the liturgy is authentic given who they are.

I couldn't put it down.

JOY COMES IN THE MORNING is a novel that I purchased to read on vacation. That was in July of 2005. I had every intention of reading it sooner. The jacket summary seemed interesting. It looked like it would have vivid characters, a lively plot, and I knew its religious undertones would capture my interest, but it stayed on my shelf for all that time. It was not until a book club I belong to select the title that I actually read it, but when I opened the book and began reading, I had to finish it.

The novel tells the story of a rabbi, Deborah Green and a science writer named Lev Friedman. Deborah is a hospital chaplain who visits a patient, Lev's father Henry who has had a stroke which occurred while planning his suicide. Deborah is an interesting mix of personalities. She's somewhat unpredictable, rather independent though not always confident, and would probably characterize herself as spiritual rather than religious. She was born Jewish but not raised in the most Jewish of homes, and discovered her faith while searching for what was missing in her own life, something not unlike many of her contemporaries. She meets Lev and the initial meeting is strained at best. Eventually the two begin a relationship. In what could be a somewhat trite and predictable story, the lives of the two characters enfold and we see the ways in which these two quirky yet sincere people come together and form a strong bond with one another.

The spiritual aspect of the book is probably what separates it from other love stories. Rosen is very knowledgeable about the Jewish faith and he paints a wonderful picture of the varieties of ways Jewish faith is practiced and Jewish life is lived, yet while the book is about Jewish characters, so much of what he has to say is universal. I've seem Catholic versions of Deborah and Lev, sincere people searching for answers and struggling with faith. I've also seen evangelical examples, Univesalist/Unitarian examples, and I'm willing to bet there are similar examples in all religious traditions. His precision as well as his ability to engage a large audience can only be praised. Anyone in ministry will recognize Deborah. I've read more than my share of books with priests, rabbis, ministers, and pastors as main characters and in most cases authors have to rely on clichés in order to make the characters seem real. In Deborah we see a dedicated religious leader who is also one hundred percent human which is not something easy to create in fiction.

A few days ago I was in a small bookstore where Jonathan Rosen spoke a few months ago. I saw the book and commented to the bookseller how much I loved the book and wished I heard him speak. He told me I was not the only one who enjoyed it. Many customers who read the book loved it and returned to buy more copies as gifts for friends. So read this book and enjoy it, but be prepared, you may enjoy it so much you can't wait to give someone else a copy.

No doubt Jonathan Rosen has given us an entertaining read: one that combines a good love story with a solid education in Judaism. There are characters we like, admire, care about, including Rachel, a young, single, attractive rabbi; Lev Friedman, a thirtyish science writer searching for Truth in the margins between science and religion; his father Henry, in declining health, masterfully described ("three tiny strokes . . . carr[ied] away clarity the way persistent ants carry away a loaf of bread one crumb at a time."); and Lev's childhood friend Neal, who has suffered a psychotic break and now lives through the horror of paranoid schizophrenia.

Rosen makes us wonder about what will happen next to these and other characters as they struggle--with or without religion--to order their worlds. Lev, through his connection with Deborah, convincingly rediscovers his faith and its importance in keeping the chain of generations unbroken, even while his belief in God remains tenuous. Deborah, despite her ministrations to the sick and other fulfillments of her rabbinical duties, convincingly undergoes a crisis of faith.

But not everything in this novel is convincing. Nearly all of Book Four (the novel, like the Torah, is divided into five "books") hinges on a ridiculous premise. In order not to give away the story, suffice it to say that Lev makes a decision that more than strains credibility, for no discernible reason. The reader is unwilling to suspend disbelief that far and politely skims over this lengthy section to await the resumption of the real action. One more major disappointment, alas, awaits the reader.

Deborah, out of a badly misguided sense of chivalry, perhaps, gives Neal her home address, in case he wants to talk of spiritual matters. Such excessive trust constitutes an inappropriate breach of professional boundaries with even a sane congregant and Deborah is smart enough to know this. (The basic plot line can easily have been preserved by having Neal visit Deborah at her office rather than her home.)

Although Rosen is to be commended for his good intentions in depicting a character with schizophrenia, he has inadvertently perpetuated a negative stereotype about the mentally ill by having Neal engage in a violent act. Further, Neal's first symptoms seem to appear when he is 29, whereas in fact this generally occurs in males between the ages of 17 and 21.

Further, Rosen struggles with point of view. The Latin American fiction writers (and Faulkner) introduced readers to the shifting point of view, wherein the reader will see the story through the eyes of different characters. But where Faulkner, Garcia Marquez, et al. have point of view shifting in an orderly fashion (e.g., different viewpoint in every chapter), Rosen's narrator shifts unpredictably, often within a single paragraph, which interrupts the narrative flow.

We do forge ahead, however, and things end happily for Lev and Deborah. We learn a great deal about Judaism and its traditions. (The story of Henry's prayer shawl, steeped in history, is excellent.) Despite some reservations, Joy Comes in the Morning makes for a satisfying read.

I liked a little of this book, the psalm "joy does come in the morning" besides that I was bored out of my mind. I have no idea where the good reviews came from? This book is plain boring. I forced myself to finish it, but I was glad when I woke up in the morning and realized I wasn't reading this anymore. There are some great lessons, but it just never became a good story.

Ugh. Nothing I hate more then an author who writes a lovely story and then spoils it at the end with some melodramatic twist that is not relevant to the plot and indicates a lack of faith in one's readers. It may represent the author's world view, but a book should be looked at as an entity with a personality of its own and diversions like the one in this book are silly. Perhaps its not just a recognition of the lack of faith in one's readers, its a lack of faith in the author's ability to hold our attention to the end. Silly.

Otherwise, a great book with very loveable and endearing characters.

I enjoyed the author's previous book very much. I 'd like to give this book a 3.5... I really enjoyed the first half of the book - the development of the characters, the writing, the storyline, etc. As someone involved in the Jewish community, I especially enjoyed the Jewish educational piece through the descriptions. as I got started I it really felt like a delightful read for my recent vacation. However, about 1/2 way through (why does this happen with so many books - both fiction and non-fiction!) As the book reached it storyline climax, I cared less about the characters than I did at the beginning. I no longer could believe what was going on.

All in all, I would share this book with friends, but would let them know to expect a book that has some really lovely Jewish parts, but has a mixed story line.

The parallel stories of Deborah and Lev do not scrape surfaces; they plow into the emotional history of two very complex individuals and their families. Additionally, Rosen creates some of the loveliest metaphors I've read in years. For anyone who appreciates rich prose and a well-developed story, this is the novel to read.

The concept of joy coming in the morning, despite whatever came the night before is profound and promising. Unfortunately, the book didn't deliver on its promise. I never grew to feel any affection for Lev, his bride to be (Deborah), Lev's mother, brother, or even his briefly suicidal, fast declining father. Without caring about the characters I felt little for their somewhat contrived dilemmas (finding oneself performing a funeral service, getting fired, having a crisis of faith). I finished the book hoping that something would move me. All I was left with was a feeling that life is messy and complex, even for characters I cared little about.