I have a tomato garden that is currently wilted from the August heat. (Really, I do, and stay with me, because this is going places.) The tomato plants started producing nice red plum tomatoes in June, but all the ripe tomatoes were rotten and black at one end at first. This is called "blossom-end rot" and is caused by not having enough calcium in the soil. It wasn't hard to fix, and I enjoyed a bountiful harvest.
There's only one thing wrong with THE ANGEL OF LOSSES, and it is, in its own way, similar to blossom-end rot, in that only one part of the story is really affected by it. The problem is that the rot is not in the blossom end of the story but at its center.
(One hates to compare someone else's book to a rotten tomato, and as I will argue, it isn't exactly fair to do so here, but that's my impression and I am sticking to it.)
THE ANGEL OF LOSSES is narrated by a young woman named Marjorie, who is a doctoral student in feminist literary theory. I have to stop myself here, because I don't actually know anyone who is a doctoral student in feminist literary theory. Furthermore, I don't want to insult anyone who happens to be a doctoral student in feminist literary theory. I especially double-don't want to insult the author if she's reading this, working on the assumption that she might be a doctoral student in feminist literary theory, or at least that she might know some people who are. Having said that, and taking into account that I don't want to insult anyone, there are not a lot of books out there which have heroines (or heroes) that are doctoral students in feminist literary theory, and there is a reason for that.
I have two complaints about Marjorie here. First is that she's kind of a drip. Again, I hope no one takes this personally. It is PERFECTLY OKAY to be kind of a drip. If you are kind of a drip, I support you fully in your lifestyle choice. But, again, people who are kind of a drip are not the sort of people you build your typical novel around. Marjorie is not interesting in sort of an aggressive way, like she's super intensely serious about not being interesting, and has made kind of a study of it. You walk away from the book not knowing one thing about her personally--how she takes her coffee, what kind of band she likes, whether she likes Springsteen better than Bon Jovi. She studies the story of the Wandering Jew and has a perfectly bloodless relationship with a librarian with similar literary tastes, and that's about it.
The second complaint is that Marjorie is not exactly at the center of the conflicts in this book. The main issue that she has that needs to be resolved is that she doesn't much like her brother-in-law.
(deleted approximately thirty thousand words complaining about my ex-brother-in-law)
Where was I? Okay. It turns out that Marjorie's sister Holly has married someone who's in a sect of Orthodox Judaism, and that Holly has converted and changed her name and developed a lot of what sounds like might be interesting kosher Indian food recipes, and Marjorie has a bit of a problem with this, and that's one of the central conflicts that drives the book. And not to repeat myself any more than I have repeated myself, but there's a reason there aren't a whole lot of brother-in-law versus sister-in-law conflicts in the history of literature, and that is because such conflicts tend towards the trivial and commonplace.
And those are two words that I hate to use about this book, because THE ANGEL OF LOSSES is not trivial and it is not commonplace. The writing is gorgeous, and in the sections where Stephanie Feldman dumps Marjorie and proceeds to tell an actual story, the novel bestirs itself and comes alive. It would be wrong to say that THE ANGEL OF LOSSES is really four short stories within a modern frame, but not too far wrong. The short pieces tell the story (or, rather, one story) of the Wandering Jew, who was a "wonder rabbi" in medieval Lithuania who performs miracles and searches for the Ten Lost Tribes. That story, laden with Jewish mysticism, intersects with the life of Marjorie's grandfather, and to an almost equal extent with her young nephew.
I can't quite recommend THE ANGEL OF LOSSES. It mixes the extraordinary with the commonplace and the otherworldly with the mundane, but doesn't always do so effectively. It is certainly well-researched and thought out, and anyone with any interest at all in the history and mysticism of Judaism should snap it up immediately. The writing is first-rate, and if you're looking more for literary merit than storytelling, THE ANGEL OF LOSSES will no doubt delight you.
For me, though, it all comes down to character and storytelling, and THE ANGEL OF LOSSES just never finds its wings and soars in those respects.