Customer Reviews

There Are Jews in My House

5 star:		(8)
4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

I went out and bought this book based on a review in one of the free newspapers handed out at major train stations in New York, and it was a terrific read! Having grown up in Russia around the same time as Ms. Vapnyar, I can confirm that her portrayal of life both in Russia proper and little Russia in Brooklyn is exceptionally accurate. Yet, though the book wasn't an eye-opener to me, it was entertaining and thoughtful. Each story had its own unexpected twist and ended a bit abruptly, leaving it to the reader to ponder its final meaning.

The opening story is the longest and most ambiotious of the book. It is also the scariest, though again not the way one would expect. My favorite, however, was the story called Mistress, portraying psychological struggles of recent Russian immigrants living in Brooklyn. From the nine-year-old boy Misha who is forced to assist his linguistically handicapped grandmother to his grandfather finding himself unable to work in America and earn his respect, Vapnyar's depth and precision in revealing their most intimate feelings are truly unbelievable. A Dostoyevsky influence is visible, but Vapnyar's writing is much lighter and less imposing.

Overall, this is an excellent book combining an intriguing literary style with good entertainment, warmth and food for one's thoughts and soul.

In Vapnyar's book, she shows a tremendous talent for integration and understand of personal feelings, and particularly, some nuances of prejudice, that we don't often consider. Most, but not all, of the stories in this book take place in Russia. Part of Vapnyar's brilliant writing style in this short book of short stories is her ability to capture so vividly, the picture and feeling of the surrounding environment in very few words, but her descriptions never seem incomplete.

The title story is particularly poignant, and shows the level of anti-semitism in Russia mostly in the 1940's, and how while it was there, it was not the same as that of Poland, which was ingrained in the society for 100's of years, or that of Germany, which was institutionalized by the Nazi party. Yet, it was still there, it was always there. And when a person started to get on another's nerves, when they were more successful, when they were more literate, when they did things that were beyond the ability of the other individual, well the answer cannot be, that I am inferior, it must be, that they are Jews.

But must it? Perhaps, if perception is reality. Even the children in her story, "A Question For Vera" are indoctrinated in some of the usual anti-semitic methods of the time, including phrenology. It is in this very story, that Vapnyar poses the question, so reminiscent of Shakespeare's Shylock in the "Merchant of Venice" when he says, "...If you prick us do we not bleed?..." But Vapnyar says it her way, "What if ... there wasn't anything bad or special about being Jewish? Katya looked around. There was nobody to answer that question..."

Aside from her incredible insight, it is so much the more so interesting, that English is not Ms. Vapnyar's first language. She is a Russian immigrant who came to New York in 1994, the book blurb says. But she has mastered the language of English, so finely, so delicately, that she can express these intricate and personal feelings, so very well, in English. She truly has broad talent. I would expect she will produce much more for readers to enjoy and ponder as her career expands.

Don't be misled by this book's title into thinking its concerns are narrowly ethnic. Although the first story lends the collection its title, the last story's title ("Love Lessons...") points to the book's larger subject of love in its various forms: first love, a child's love, gay love, adulterous love, altruistic love. Like Chekhov, Vapnyar draws you into her stories with carefully chosen, specific details and characters rendered lifelike with a few light strokes: a pear-shaped principal whose black pumps leave impressions in the linoleum ("Love Lessons"), an obsessively cooking grandmother who smells of sweat, valerian root, and dill ("Mistress"). These last two stories, along with the title story, are longer, more complexly constructed, but the shorter stories have their own charm. "Ovrashki's Trains" breaks your heart as you watch a lonely girl pass her time beneath a summer cottage preparing mudcakes for her dolls while waiting for a father who will never arrive. Through stories of Russian Jews in Moscow and Brooklyn, Vapnyar conveys the inclinations of the human heart.

I first read Lara Vapnyar in the debut fiction issue of The New Yorker. I've now read this collection. She is on her way to be one of our very best writers. Her prose is simple but never kitchy. Her characters are nuanced, complex, unforgettable. They instruct us in the ways humans love (and betray) one another. Ms. Vapnyar is the most interesting new writer I've read this year.

Vapnyar's writing is so light that you barely notice that you're reading. The title story is my favorite-a very powerful tale of jealousy between two Russian women during Nazi invasion. Love Lessons is different, but great too. My favorite line (spoken by a young sexual education teacher): "It was not as if I had no experience whatsoever. I wasn't a virgin. Or at least I hoped I wasn't. Actually I couldn't be completely sure about it."

This is a well crafted and very readable collection of short stories. The powerful title story is a frightening account of a Russian Jew and her daughter who are hidden by a gentile friend with second thoughts. Other stories touch on the Russian immigrant experience in Brooklyn. Her subjects are treated with empathy and compassion.

Ms.Vapnyar's stories are some of the best I have read. I only hope she will produce many more! Thank you, Lara!

A wonderful and moving collection of six stories depicting ordinary life with strict truthfulness. The voice of this young writer is fresh and clear. Her writing style represents genuine innovation in American fiction. I highly recommend it.

Lara Vapnyar is a talented author who conspicuously enjoys reminiscing about the culture she grew up in and portraying it in engaging stories. Each story comports an essence of the lifestyle of Russian immigrants at the time.

This book became an educational experience to me, as it opened my eyes to a lifestyle that I have never lived. Because I am part of the Russian-Jewish culture, I can relate to some of the emotions that the characters underwent, although the novel describes stories that happened to the previous generation.

The language of the author is captivating, considering the fact that English is not her first language. Talent for writing and determination for creating a beautifully written novel are demonstrated through the stories that Lara Vapnyar composed. The book is extremely interesting; however, most of the stories seem unfinished, leaving the reader with a yearning for continuation. It is a fast-read, which shows that the language is not as sophisticated as the powerful meaning.

The impact of this book is phenomenal. It creates a thought about appreciating your culture. I am very thankful to Lara Vapnyar for writing such a great work that positively affected my thoughts of my culture and opened my eyes to the past struggles of people living in it.

There Are Jews at My House is a noble, unforced, and unpretentious first effort from an ESL author who shows promise of coming into her own. Contrary to the back panel blurb's assertion, Vapnyar is not the Russian Jane Austen. Still, the stories are vivid and subtle, showing the positive signs of restraint and absorbing narrative.

The inadequacy of Vapnyar's English can be overcome--she will almost surely produce a more elegant product the next time around. (Do not confuse, however, her limited stylistic bravura with an asserted style--Lara is clearly, and smartly, playing it safe with the language).

The biggest problem is that most of the stories in this fiction/creative nonfiction tome can't be classified as extraordinary or extremely compelling. The title story, ripe with the most subject matter, is thankfully, understated and adequate. The best pieces are probably "Lydia's Grove" and "Mistress," with "Love Lessons" a runner-up. Other childhood recollections are prosaic (I'm probably biased as an ex-Soviet) and probably wouldn't be printed if it weren't for the author's Russian backdrops.

While Vapnyar has some distance to cover stylistically, and could stand to inject more humor into her stories (believe me, "Mistress" is full of potential), as a valuable early entry in the hopefully soon-to-be Russian-American canon, this book should not be dismissed .