By Rabbi Rachel Esserman

“Going Home”

How to define a family is just one of the questions raised by Tom Lamont’s “Going Home” (Alfred A. Knopf). When 30-something Téo Erskine volunteers to babysit Joel, a toddler who is the son of his friend and former crush Lia, he doesn’t expect to be left guardian of the child. After all, he is only there for a duty visit to see his father, Vic, and spend time with a school friend, Ben Mossam, before returning to London, the place he now sees as home. He deliberately left his former community and has no desire to permanently return. But now Téo must decide what will happen to Joel, and everyone from Vic to the community’s new rabbi, Sybil Challis, has an idea about what should be done. 
The story is told from the point of view of four characters: Téo, Vic, Ben and Sybil. Readers not only learn about their connections to Joel and his mother, but to the local Jewish community. Even though he comes to care for Joel, Téo doesn’t see himself as a permanent guardian for the child. Vic, who experienced foster care when young, so very much wants Joel to remain with him that he doesn’t always think carefully about his actions. Ben resists helping, because he’s never thought about anyone beyond himself. He also has a secret that could change the course of his life. Sybil, whose position at the synagogue is probationary, had befriended Lia and wants to make certain that Joel receives the love and care he deserves.
One of the most interesting characters in the novel, though, is the one whose thoughts are never heard. Joel is too young to articulate his feelings and it’s not clear how much he understands what’s happened. He does know his world has changed, but his future will be decided by forces beyond his control. 
What ultimately makes “Going Home” a moving work – both sweet and sad at the same time – is that all those involved are trying to do their best, but their best is not always good enough. Book clubs that enjoy discussing family life will find “Going Home” an excellent choice.

“The Last Dekrepitzer”

So many Jewish-themed books are released every year that is impossible to read and/or review all of them. That means that sometimes I pass on a book, that is until it’s again brought to my attention. I had originally decided not to ask for a review copy of “The Last Dekrepitzer” by Howard Langer, filing it under “not even I can read everything.” However, when I learned that it won the 2024 Miller Family Book Club Award at the National Jewish Book Awards, I changed my mind.
The novel’s prologue was intriguing and drew me into the action: a young man hears a fiddler playing in the New York City subway and recognizes the tune from his musical studies. He approaches the fiddler and asks if he is member of the Dekrepitzer Chasidim, a group whose members were thought to have been murdered during World War II. After a short discussion, the young man realizes that he is standing before the last Dekrepitzer alive, Reb Shmuel Meir Lichtbencher, who now calls himself Sam Lightup. How Shmuel/Sam survived the war and came to the United States is the subject of the rest of the book. 
But first readers learn how fiddle music came to the Dekrepitzers, an isolated group of Chasidim, and how it changed the way they prayed. It was Shmuel’s grandfather who first learned to play the fiddle and, after playing the niggunim, songs chanted without words, that were long part of his community, he began to create his own melodies, ones that served as a way for him to pour out his heart to God. Shmuel followed in his grandfather and father’s paths, studying to be a rabbi, while also learning how to use music as a form of praying. It was his fiddling ability that saved Shmuel’s life: a Soviet official heard him play and brought him to Moscow so he could enter a conservatory. However, the war intervened, which prevented Shmuel from returning to his village and left him without family or community.
Traveling after the war, Shmuel found himself in Naples, Italy, where he met several Black American soldiers playing music. When they heard him play his fiddle, the soldiers befriended him and smuggled him into the U.S. Living in the South and playing his fiddle with members of the Black community in rural Mississippi, Shmuel, now called Sam, learns that not everyone in his new home is tolerant, but, in this case, the main prejudice is against the Black community. Sam is forced to leave Mississippi and moves to New York City. Yet, his only true home is the music he plays.
“The Last Dekrepitzer” is a melancholy, moving portrayal of one man’s longing for home and community. By the end of his life, Sam can’t pray in words because there aren’t words enough to explain just how angry he is with God. Instead, Sam speaks to God through his music, music readers will wish they could hear. However, it is unlikely that any melody could live up to the sound readers imagine. While the work won the 2024 Miller Family award for best book club book, it didn’t strike me as an easy one to discuss. However, it is one worth reading.

“A Dark and Drowning Tide”

When reading the open chapters of Allison Saft’s fantasy “A Dark and Drowning Tide” (Del Ray), I wondered if I’d made a mistake in asking for a review copy. The main character, Lorelei Kaskel, immediately grabbed my interest and the plot seemed intriguing. My problem? I wondered if there was any Jewish content. Then it suddenly became clear: although Lorelei is called a Yevani, that term refers to a group that qualifies as Jewish in everything but name.
The Yevani are forced to live in a ghetto-like section of the city; they observe Shabbat and kashrut (dietary laws) and debate Yevani law in a way that would make a talmudic scholar proud. They are also hated by the general public and used as scapegoats by the king. Lorelei, who become a folklorist under the guidance of her non-Yevani mentor Professor Ziegler, is about to embark with Ziegler on an important mission for the king. The other scholars included in the trip dislike Lorelei, especially the beautiful and beloved Sylvia von Wolff, who irritates Lorelei in more ways than she can list. 
Problems begin almost immediately after the expedition begins when Ziegler is found murdered. Lorelei is technically the next in command, but the other scholars treat her with disdain not only because she is a Yevani, but because she did not grow up as part of their exclusive group. Lorelei is determined to learn who killed Ziegler and to continue their mission, if only not to be blamed by the king and executed in the real murderer’s place.
The plot moved quickly and was filled with unexpected twists and turns. One of the work’s greatest pleasures is watching the development of the relationship between Lorelei and Sylvia. The two spar and get on each other’s nerves, mostly because the oblivious Lorelei has no idea the true reason they are unable to connect.
“A Dark and Drowning Tide” is an excellent novel. Underlying its adventure are several serious questions: is there anything – including the peace of a kingdom – for which it is worth sacrificing the innocent? How do you balance the needs of the many against the truth that might spell disaster? These questions add depth and substance, making this work far more than an ordinary fantasy.