Michael Andre Bernstein (1947–2011)

This was a wonderful book -- interesting subject matter; distinctive, thoughtful style; psychological and human at the same time. I bought it after reading a NY Times mildly favorable review, attracted by the unplowed subject matter -- revolutionary callow youth and the Jewish community at the eastern end of the Austro-Hungarian empire on the verge of WWI. The subject matter was indeed interesting, but the quality of the novel was much greater than the review's restraint. The convoluted, intellectual prose made getting into the book slow, but brought a great payoff of depth and authenticity. Most of all, it has a gravitas I've been missing in contemporary fiction, which lurches from one lurid situation to another, substituting sensation for insight. The customer reviews on Amazon.com thoroughly reinforced my view -- about one third liked the book, the rest excoriated it for being slow, boring, no action, and violating the cardinal rule of writing, which supposedly is "Show, don't tell". Hooray for the violation! Who made that rule -- Ernest Hemingway?… (mais)