This book came to me as a “blind book date” at a book fair. If you’re unfamiliar with the idea, a bookseller will wrap a book in plain colored paper, but a few hints as to what the book is about (like the genre). It can be a fun way to dive into the unknown and challenge yourself with what could be a different kind of read.
I was curious about Chabon after hearing of “The Mysteries of Pittsburgh” — ironically, I’ve not read it yet. It’s got good reviews, and my Mom (herself an addict of the written word) enjoyed it immensely. So I dove in, ready and willing.
I wasn’t expecting a Jewish quasi-noir mystery in an alternate timeline of our own world in a Hebrew colony an Alaska.
Meyer Landsman is a detective for the Sitka police, the classic down on his luck character — a broken marriage, a drinking problem, and stuck in a cheap apartment in a run down building. When another tenant is murdered, he takes on the case — and takes it personally. Unfortunately, Sitka, initially an independant Yiddish city-state, is about to revert back to the United States, and Landsman has a limited amount of time to close all of his open cases.
The mystery delves into the Yiddish social landscape, including an organized crime family, and a conspiracy revolving around a potential messianic figure. Other reviews have praised the book as being “raucous” (The Houston Chronicle), and “terrifically funny” (the San Francisco Chronicle).
Unfortunately, I didn’t get it. And that’s not the fault of the writing — that’s solid. Whether the blind spot is cultural or in my sense of humor, that’s hard to say. I liked reading the book, but I wasn’t fully vested in it. Enjoyed? Yes. Loved? Not really. I just couldn’t put my finger on why — still can’t.
This might be a book I need to reread another time, perhaps with a little more wisdom and experience under my belt.
Until then, it’s on to the next book…
