By Rabbi Rachel Esserman

Biblical times

The debate continues in scholarly circles over whether the Exodus from Egypt actually occurred. For many writers that debate is irrelevant: the Exodus has inspired storytelling from ancient to contemporary times. Maggie Anton, whose novels focus on tales of little known Jewish women, now offers her view of that event. One difference between her novel and other works is that the two characters who narrate “The Midwives’ Escape: From Egypt to Jericho” (Banot Press) are non-Jewish midwives, whom she calls Asenet and Shifra.
Readers of the Bible will be familiar with the name Shifra, who, with Pua, helped the newly born sons of the Israelite women survive, even though they had been commanded by Pharaoh to put them to death. Commentaries debate whether the women were Egyptians or Israelites (the text is unclear), but Anton portrays them as Egyptian with Asenet as the mother of Shifra and Pua, the latter of whom is married to an Israelite man. When the Exodus occurs, the two narrators, along with other non-Israelites, also decide to leave Egypt. 
The novel follows the two women’s travels and echoes parts of the biblical text. The most interesting sections, though, explore the practical aspects of the trip in which biblical writers had no interest. That includes everything from showing the Israelites taking advantage of the horses and weapons left behind by the Egyptians who died in the Red Sea to where the latrines were dug when the people camped. Anton includes characters from biblical and rabbinic tales, for example portraying Serach bat Asher (the daughter of Jacob) as still alive at the time of the Exodus, which means she was able to tell Moses where Joseph’s bones were buried so they could be brought to the promised land. Also interesting are the personal interactions between Moses, Aaron and Miriam. Anton portrays Aaron as an untrustworthy person: he sends Moses’ wife away without letting her and her children see Moses. He also lies about the creation of the golden calf. 
“The Midwives’ Escape” is generally well done and easy to read. One quibble is that it is sometimes difficult to determine which chapters were written by Asenet and which by Shifra, meaning that readers may have to refer to the chapter’s title page to know who is speaking. However, readers who enjoy novels focusing on characters from the Bible will want to add this work to their must-read pile. 

Eighteenth century Italy and Egypt

Is it possible to read the sequel of a novel without having read the first work? Fortunately, Michelle Cameron offers enough detail in “Napoleon’s Mirage” (She Write Press) that those who have not read her previous book, “Beyond the Ghetto Gate,” will still be able to follow the plot. This novel, which takes place in 1798-99, focuses mainly on two characters, Mirelle, who is running her late father’s scribal business in Acona, Italy, and Daniel, a French Jewish soldier who is taking part in Napoleon’s campaign to conquer Egypt and Palestine. Mirelle and Daniel, who are cousins, met in the first book when Napoleon conquered Italy and tore down the gates of the Acona ghetto. By the end of the prior work, the two cousins were in love with each other, although neither had revealed the fact. Each wonders if the other feels the same and worries they will never meet again. 
Although the Jewish population of Italy has gained equal rights under Napoleon, that is not true for Italian women. Mirelle tries to support herself by running her father’s workshop, something the local rabbi opposes. Because she had fallen in love with a non-Jewish French soldier in the first novel, this connection branded her as a fallen woman in the Jewish community. Now, though, she realizes she is in love with Daniel, but he is far away and her life becomes even more difficult when a former friend turns against her.
The chapters that focus on Daniel portray his changing feelings about Napoleon as the French army fights its way through Egypt and into Palestine. He wonders if there is a reason for the campaign, especially since so many people are dying for no reason he can understand. This new Napoleon murders the innocent and acts in ways Daniel considers inappropriate. These sections do an excellent job portraying the horror, stupidity and savagery of war, while also leaving readers wondering which characters might die.
However, the character whose fate most affected me was that of Mirelle. In my review of the first novel (www.thereportergroup.org/executive-editor/off-the-shelf-womens-roles-and-history-by-rabbi-rachel-esserman?entry=364059), I noted my lack of emotional engagement with the characters. This time I was so concerned about Mirelle’s fate that I was tempted to skip ahead to the chapters featuring her story so I could learn what happened to her, something I never do. That helped make “Napoleon’s Mirage” an engaging and exciting work. 

Nineteenth century Palestine and Italy

When is a murder mystery not really a murder mystery? When the theological path of the deceased is far more interesting than whether he was murdered or died by suicide. In “The Renegade” by Ariel Toaff and translated by Cristine Popple (CPL Editions), the body of Rabbi David Ajash is found under an olive tree, along with the weapon that caused his death. David – who was born in Algeria, but spent a good portion of his life in Italy – was a controversial figure. His religious explorations took him far from the approved path, partly because of his interest in not only mysticism and Kabbalah, but the radical ideas offered by messianic figures of that time. However, those living in Nablus, where he spent the last years of his life, saw him as a kind, warm human being.
Not so his son, Moise, who is called from Jerusalem for the funeral. Staying with a member of the community who fears David’s death will create problems with the Ottoman government, Moise receives a manuscript taken from his father’s house before the authorities could find it. The document is David’s attempt at a memoir: it explains not only his life path, but his theology. Moise dislikes his father who deserted his family in Palestine to go to Italy and whose behavior was considered a disgrace by the community. Moise is also a rabbi, but one who prefers a rationalist approach to religion. Although he rejects his father’s theology, he finds himself far more intrigued by David’s life story than he expected. 
The novel rotates narration between Moise and David, with Moise commenting on his father’s memoir. At times, it’s difficult to tell the two sections apart because the fonts used are so similar. However, the prose is beautiful and readers will find themselves intrigued by David’s spiritual journey, even if they are not particularly interested in mysticism. Parts of the work – particularly the section dealing with the freemasons – may leave readers wondering how much of the novel is based on fact. Unfortunately, the author does not include a section noting which parts are real and which are based on his imagination. 
“The Renegade” offers a portrait of someone who deviated in unusual ways from the traditional Jewish path: choosing a different spiritual path, rather than a secular one. David and Moise make excellent counterpoints as each chose to live their lives in very different ways. What does stand out is the way emotional ties – whether positive or negative – played such an important role in both men’s personal and religious decision making. 

Twentieth century America

Many novels about the Jewish American immigrant experience offer rags-to-riches tales or, at least, from poverty to a lower middle class comfortable existence. That is not exactly true of “Gitel’s Freedom” by Iris Mitlin Lav (She Writes Press). As a young child, Gitel emigrated from Russia with her mother and five brothers to join her father in South Bend, IN, in 1911. Although her father makes a good living, Gitel’s problems begin when she becomes an adult and marries. 
Gitel wanted to be an all American girl, but her parents were resistant to her efforts. That included not letting her attend college. When Gitel becomes involved in the labor movement, she meets Shmuel, an Orthodox Jew whose left-wing political stands she admires. Shmuel is a pharmacist and, after they marry, opens his own store. Gitel uses her bookkeeping skills to help, but the Great Depression forces them to give up the store and Shmuel suffers several other setbacks, which leave Gitel not only the sole breadwinner, but with children who need her care.
The writing in “Gitel’s Freedom” is plain and blunt, making the plot the most interesting part of the work. The discussions about the role mazel (luck) plays in one’s life and if one’s religious practice determines whether one succeeds or fails will be something readers will also debate. Gitel finds parts of married life unsatisfactory (which will leave readers wondering about her sexuality, something that is never resolved) and worries about the different paths her two daughters take. That raises the question of whether women, even if they are happily married, should be prepared that for the fact someday they may have to support themselves and their children through no fault of their own. Readers may find themselves debating this and other questions, which makes this work suitable for book clubs.