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Unfinished Acts of Wild Creation
Following a tight-knit, eccentric Jewish family, the Rosenbergs, over four decades, Unfinished Acts of Wild Creation combines the madness of motherhood with the manic absurdity of grief in a stunning tale for fans of Allegra Goodman and Rebecca Makkai.
The night after fleeing her mother’s funeral, cellist Louise Rakoff meets aspiring therapist Leon Rosenberg at a Rosh Hashanah dinner in 1974. Over the next two decades, they build a marriage and a family based on honesty, argument, and a shared appreciation of the absurd. But that rock-solid foundation crumbles when Louise is diagnosed with a rare degenerative disease—the same one responsible for her mother's slow, agonizing passing.
Determined to spare Leon and their daughter Lydia from her messy decline, Louise makes the simultaneously selfish and altruistic decision to leave her family and die on her own terms. Her disappearance forces the Rosenbergs to grapple with how to find meaning in the face of mortality—a manic and mystical quest that sends them careening across the globe, colliding into tattoo artists, Chasidic Jews, playworkers, and witches. And finally, back into each other.
Bursting with humor and heartbreak, and inspired by Yahm's own experience as a disabled author facing the existential terror of parenting while ill, Unfinished Acts of Wild Creation leaps into the trials of motherhood, the impossibility of adolescence, the hopelessness of grief, and all the wild beauty and hilarity that makes life worth living anyway.
The night after fleeing her mother’s funeral, cellist Louise Rakoff meets aspiring therapist Leon Rosenberg at a Rosh Hashanah dinner in 1974. Over the next two decades, they build a marriage and a family based on honesty, argument, and a shared appreciation of the absurd. But that rock-solid foundation crumbles when Louise is diagnosed with a rare degenerative disease—the same one responsible for her mother's slow, agonizing passing.
Determined to spare Leon and their daughter Lydia from her messy decline, Louise makes the simultaneously selfish and altruistic decision to leave her family and die on her own terms. Her disappearance forces the Rosenbergs to grapple with how to find meaning in the face of mortality—a manic and mystical quest that sends them careening across the globe, colliding into tattoo artists, Chasidic Jews, playworkers, and witches. And finally, back into each other.
Bursting with humor and heartbreak, and inspired by Yahm's own experience as a disabled author facing the existential terror of parenting while ill, Unfinished Acts of Wild Creation leaps into the trials of motherhood, the impossibility of adolescence, the hopelessness of grief, and all the wild beauty and hilarity that makes life worth living anyway.
347 pages, Hardcover
Published May 6, 2025
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2504 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 18 of 18 reviews
April 13, 2025
This book gutted me. The Rosenbergs are so opposite of what my own family and life are like that I found them annoying and obnoxious in an eye rolls way. Sort of how I felt when I started (but did not finish) Sandwich by Catherine Newman. We do not lay ourselves bare, literally or figuratively, in my house. But I recognize a lot of my irritation is really jealousy - I’m jealous that they can have these conversations with each other, and be frank and honest and bounce ideas off one another. I wish I had a creative way to express my feelings: music, drawing, more education. Even though I am not and do not want to be that person.
I connected more with Leon than Lydia or Louise for this reason.
There’s a lot of grief here, which was sad of course but also kind of cathartic.
The last book to which I gave five stars was Jami Attenberg’s last book and now I’m thinking on it this did remind me of Jami Attenberg.
I especially loved the end. The stuff about love and work really resonated with me.
As a side note: the publishers marketing blurb makes it sound like there may be some magical realism at play here, or maybe some wacky encounter with a circus troupe, but that is one hundred percent not the case. Jewish customs and religious beliefs yes, but very much rooted in reality (as much as any religion can be rooted in reality but that’s another story.)
I connected more with Leon than Lydia or Louise for this reason.
There’s a lot of grief here, which was sad of course but also kind of cathartic.
The last book to which I gave five stars was Jami Attenberg’s last book and now I’m thinking on it this did remind me of Jami Attenberg.
I especially loved the end. The stuff about love and work really resonated with me.
As a side note: the publishers marketing blurb makes it sound like there may be some magical realism at play here, or maybe some wacky encounter with a circus troupe, but that is one hundred percent not the case. Jewish customs and religious beliefs yes, but very much rooted in reality (as much as any religion can be rooted in reality but that’s another story.)
November 30, 2025
This book is one of the 45 entered in the 2025 Republic of Consciousness prize for the US and Canada. The longlist of 10 will come out in mid January but I am reading as many of the entries as I can. The only requirement is that they must be published by small presses which usually don't get much attention.
Unfinished Acts is about a Jewish family through several generations. The main character is Louise, who has just lost her mother who was also a therapist and Louise has many mixed feelings about this loss. The author does a great job of describing both the outer events and the inner feelings that result. We are presented with many life events from Louise as a post-partum mother who is almost losing her mind to the end of the story when the father of the family has to deal with life changes.
I am not much of a fan of family sagas and this novel seemed just a bit too long at over 400 pages. Also it doesn't seem to have the expected structural literary qualities such as risk-taking and boundary- pushing one expects to find in ROC selections. 3.5*
Unfinished Acts is about a Jewish family through several generations. The main character is Louise, who has just lost her mother who was also a therapist and Louise has many mixed feelings about this loss. The author does a great job of describing both the outer events and the inner feelings that result. We are presented with many life events from Louise as a post-partum mother who is almost losing her mind to the end of the story when the father of the family has to deal with life changes.
I am not much of a fan of family sagas and this novel seemed just a bit too long at over 400 pages. Also it doesn't seem to have the expected structural literary qualities such as risk-taking and boundary- pushing one expects to find in ROC selections. 3.5*
May 10, 2025
Intimate and expansive, hilarious and heartbreaking, riddled with contradiction, this brilliant beautiful book carries it all with honesty, complexity and nuance.
My review
https://www.jewishbookcouncil.org/boo...
My review
https://www.jewishbookcouncil.org/boo...
March 25, 2025
Devastation lit 🔥 💔. This is a gorgeously rendered family saga of love and grief and art and meaningful work in the world. I fell in love with this quirky dysfunctional yet functional Jewish family immediately and had to keep reading. The characters and storylines are so unique, so complex, you’ll be thinking about them long after reading. Highly recommend!
May 4, 2025
Also on Snow White Hates Apples.
I’m wholly unfamiliar with everything Jewish and had no idea what to expect going into this book, but after resurfacing from the pages, I can only say that I was emotionally obliterated.
Familiar or unfamiliar, there are many universal aspects in Unfinished Acts of Wild Creation that anyone can relate to. From dysfunctional families and love to autonomy and dying with dignity, this book captures the messy, beautiful contradictions of being human, and it does it with such nuance and aplomb that I’m awed.
Awed and a little jealous because despite the moments of stonewalling and selfishness — which was understandable and very human, there was also so much actual communication. The Rosenbergs are frank with each other. They argue, yes, but they communicate as well. They talk and they listen, they discuss and build on each other. Though I’m neither mother nor father, I could still understand where Louise and Leon were coming from. I empathised with their fears and worries, anger and sorrow, joy and love.
Of course, there is a lot of grief in this book too. Caring for an ill loved one, knowing that they’re dying and losing them is never easy. The same goes for the other side, where they must face their own decline while watching their loved ones witness them losing themselves as time passes. Following Louise, Leon and Lydia’s journey as they navigate Louise’s inevitable death due to illness is a heartbreak that’s both quiet and loud.
Regardless, I must admit that the final bits of the book felt a little directionless, a little too neat and surface. Perhaps it’s meant to mimic how lost we feel after all that’s said and done, or how putting one foot forward at a time is part of living, even if we’re not really feeling it. Still, even with that in mind, it doesn’t quite feel enough, especially given the great emotional impact the earlier parts have.
All in all, there’s rawness and realness in every page to pull you in. Unfinished Acts of Wild Creation is a prickly yet tender, deeply human must-read.
I’m wholly unfamiliar with everything Jewish and had no idea what to expect going into this book, but after resurfacing from the pages, I can only say that I was emotionally obliterated.
Familiar or unfamiliar, there are many universal aspects in Unfinished Acts of Wild Creation that anyone can relate to. From dysfunctional families and love to autonomy and dying with dignity, this book captures the messy, beautiful contradictions of being human, and it does it with such nuance and aplomb that I’m awed.
Awed and a little jealous because despite the moments of stonewalling and selfishness — which was understandable and very human, there was also so much actual communication. The Rosenbergs are frank with each other. They argue, yes, but they communicate as well. They talk and they listen, they discuss and build on each other. Though I’m neither mother nor father, I could still understand where Louise and Leon were coming from. I empathised with their fears and worries, anger and sorrow, joy and love.
Of course, there is a lot of grief in this book too. Caring for an ill loved one, knowing that they’re dying and losing them is never easy. The same goes for the other side, where they must face their own decline while watching their loved ones witness them losing themselves as time passes. Following Louise, Leon and Lydia’s journey as they navigate Louise’s inevitable death due to illness is a heartbreak that’s both quiet and loud.
Regardless, I must admit that the final bits of the book felt a little directionless, a little too neat and surface. Perhaps it’s meant to mimic how lost we feel after all that’s said and done, or how putting one foot forward at a time is part of living, even if we’re not really feeling it. Still, even with that in mind, it doesn’t quite feel enough, especially given the great emotional impact the earlier parts have.
All in all, there’s rawness and realness in every page to pull you in. Unfinished Acts of Wild Creation is a prickly yet tender, deeply human must-read.
Thank you so much Dzanc Books for sending me a copy of this in exchange for an honest review!
June 5, 2025
This book follows the lives - and in some cases, the deaths - of Leon and Louise Rosenberg and their daughter Lydia from the 1970s to the aughts. A brilliant debut novel that deals with heavy topics with a very light touch. I was impressed with how whimsical this book was without being precious, and think it’s definitely the funniest book about terminal illness I’ve ever read. Although it is about a Jewish family, the themes of love and loss are universal and relatable. I laughed, I cried, and I was sad when it ended.
July 23, 2025
via my blog: https://bookstalkerblog.wordpress.com/
“𝑰’𝒎 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒐 𝒕𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕. 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝑰 𝒅𝒐 𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒚 𝒐𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒚. 𝑰 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆.”
I read this beautiful novel months ago, having been given an arc. Life got hectic, honestly it hasn’t stopped being frenzied and has left me dizzy for years. Dizzy physically (neurological issues) which is one of the reasons I fell behind review writing. The characters took up residence in my heart, and while it was published in May, and we’re now in the scorching heat of July, I am long overdue to gush over it. It is 1974 when the tale opens with cellist Louise Rackoff giving a eulogy in memory of her mother Freya, but not during the service. Instead, she is presenting it to a man at Shoshanna Teitelbaum’s shabbat dinner table. Deeply interested in how it felt to be raised by an analyst, the stranger, Leon, confides he is in school to become a therapist and doesn’t want to screw up any future children. Getting her insight is a boon. Louise and her mother spent decades making a study of each other, now that she is free, she feels lost. Leon has no clue the state she is in, reeling over her mother’s death. Overwhelmed, she walks out of dinner and into bed with Leon. So begins their love story that leads to the birth of their daughter, Lydia. It is a tale about illness and deep abiding, protective love. But there is humor, Louise is practical and hates when people candy coat hard truths. She is blunt, honest and meets her match in Leon.
Though Freya spent her life running away from Judaism, she couldn’t escape the mysterious neurological, genetic disease passed on to the women in her family. One that has made its way to Louise. It begins with little symptoms, dropping things (losing muscle control), small tremors, but all of it is a slow creep. Leon is supportive but his faith and staunch support will never be enough. Not even love can shield her from her rotten fate. The fact is, Louise is terrified of her daughter Lydia watching her waste away, as she herself was a trapped witness to her own mother Freya’s brutal demise. She refuses to ever see Lydia filled with terror of what could be her own doom, watching Louise stripped of her health, her independence, her light. As Lydia grows up, she is anxious, more reason to protect her from the horrors of the illness as long as they can. But disease is a bully, and Louise’s request feels like she is abandoning the marriage-worse, Lydia. She wants to travel to Israel and die on her own terms. Louise has given the best of herself to Lydia and refuses to expose her daughter to its ravages.
As the story unfolds it is one of absence, how Louise’s choice stunts and frees Lydia. Because both things can be true at once. Any mother can relate, we never want to be a burden, our job has always been to love and protect our children, to nurse them. This is a double-edged sword, knowing this brutal disease could be waiting to snatch Lydia, the only gift (as Louise sees it) is to let her beloved daughter live without the horror show that may well one day be Lydia's demise too. I was moved; it breaks down the reality of sickness, how helpless one feels. Illness isn’t a choice; it isn’t practical nor kind, it is debilitating. In this story, Louise wants to steer the course for as long as she can, but it costs her too. It is the hardest choice she has ever made, to the bitter end.
An emotional read by an incredibly talented author.
Published May 2025
Dzanc Books
“𝑰’𝒎 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒐 𝒕𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕. 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝑰 𝒅𝒐 𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒚 𝒐𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒚. 𝑰 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆.”
I read this beautiful novel months ago, having been given an arc. Life got hectic, honestly it hasn’t stopped being frenzied and has left me dizzy for years. Dizzy physically (neurological issues) which is one of the reasons I fell behind review writing. The characters took up residence in my heart, and while it was published in May, and we’re now in the scorching heat of July, I am long overdue to gush over it. It is 1974 when the tale opens with cellist Louise Rackoff giving a eulogy in memory of her mother Freya, but not during the service. Instead, she is presenting it to a man at Shoshanna Teitelbaum’s shabbat dinner table. Deeply interested in how it felt to be raised by an analyst, the stranger, Leon, confides he is in school to become a therapist and doesn’t want to screw up any future children. Getting her insight is a boon. Louise and her mother spent decades making a study of each other, now that she is free, she feels lost. Leon has no clue the state she is in, reeling over her mother’s death. Overwhelmed, she walks out of dinner and into bed with Leon. So begins their love story that leads to the birth of their daughter, Lydia. It is a tale about illness and deep abiding, protective love. But there is humor, Louise is practical and hates when people candy coat hard truths. She is blunt, honest and meets her match in Leon.
Though Freya spent her life running away from Judaism, she couldn’t escape the mysterious neurological, genetic disease passed on to the women in her family. One that has made its way to Louise. It begins with little symptoms, dropping things (losing muscle control), small tremors, but all of it is a slow creep. Leon is supportive but his faith and staunch support will never be enough. Not even love can shield her from her rotten fate. The fact is, Louise is terrified of her daughter Lydia watching her waste away, as she herself was a trapped witness to her own mother Freya’s brutal demise. She refuses to ever see Lydia filled with terror of what could be her own doom, watching Louise stripped of her health, her independence, her light. As Lydia grows up, she is anxious, more reason to protect her from the horrors of the illness as long as they can. But disease is a bully, and Louise’s request feels like she is abandoning the marriage-worse, Lydia. She wants to travel to Israel and die on her own terms. Louise has given the best of herself to Lydia and refuses to expose her daughter to its ravages.
As the story unfolds it is one of absence, how Louise’s choice stunts and frees Lydia. Because both things can be true at once. Any mother can relate, we never want to be a burden, our job has always been to love and protect our children, to nurse them. This is a double-edged sword, knowing this brutal disease could be waiting to snatch Lydia, the only gift (as Louise sees it) is to let her beloved daughter live without the horror show that may well one day be Lydia's demise too. I was moved; it breaks down the reality of sickness, how helpless one feels. Illness isn’t a choice; it isn’t practical nor kind, it is debilitating. In this story, Louise wants to steer the course for as long as she can, but it costs her too. It is the hardest choice she has ever made, to the bitter end.
An emotional read by an incredibly talented author.
Published May 2025
Dzanc Books
July 11, 2025
I realize I'm an outlier with my 3 star rating. While I loved the relationship between Louise and Leon, at times I wanted to give them the look of disappointment (accompanied by the slight head shake of disgust) that my grandpa occasionally used. The edgy and sarcastic conversations could easily cross a line into hurtful territory. The decisions made by the characters regarding their own mortality were heart wrenching and the plot was interesting for that reason. Overall, this was a good, not great, book.
August 21, 2025
Sarah Yahn’s novel “Unfinished Acts of Wild Creation” (Dzanc Books) has one of the best opening lines I’ve read in years: “‘My mother was raised an Orthodox Jew and then became an Orthodox Freudian, so she pathologized me with a religious fervor,’ Louise told the ordinary-looking young man sitting next to her.” Her explanation of how this affected her cannot be printed in a family-friendly newspaper. However, the conversation intrigues Leon, the name of the young man listening to her.
See the rest of my review at https://www.thereportergroup.org/book...
See the rest of my review at https://www.thereportergroup.org/book...
August 4, 2025
Through humor, honesty and authentic characters, Yahm explores what it means to live with chronic illness. These characters are so alive, fueled and full of the minutiae of living. Yahm has such attention to detail that you truly know this family, can almost anticipate their choices and eccentricities. Yahm builds a believable world and provides insight into a topic in need of attention.
May 24, 2025
I love this book and found that it made me laugh and cry for different reasons. I thought the characters were vey layered and complex and I find that rare in fiction now. I hope to read a lot more from Sarah Yahm.
November 16, 2025
I've been in a slight reading slump. It happens. This helped me out of it slightly. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to take away from the saddish story. But I did "enjoy" it for the writing. It was almost like 3 separate stories and the one who gets to the end kind of surprised me. But not.
July 13, 2025
Lovely. So well written and the characters are quirky, fun, and smart. It’s a sad story of loss and grief, but is also very funny and endearing.
August 23, 2025
Should be a 3.5.
Read
August 25, 2025I loved this book - a very tender and engrossing story.
August 31, 2025
Review to follow.
September 25, 2025
I just could not get into this book. It is well written, just not my cup of tea.
June 20, 2025
I picked this up after reading a glowing review from one of the staff of a local book store. This is a family saga. Parents and daughter are smart eccentric individuals who face very large challenges, with unclear paths to compassionate solutions. I highly recommend this book.
Displaying 1 - 18 of 18 reviews