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Unspeakable Things
A wild, erotic novel—a daring debut—from the much-admired, award-winning poet, author of Flying Inland, A History of Yearning, and With Robert Lowell and His Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton, Elizabeth Bishop, Stanley Kunitz, and Others. A strange, haunting novel about survival and love in all its forms; about sexual awakenings and dark secrets; about European refugee intellectuals who have fled Hitler’s armies with their dreams intact and who have come to an elusive new (American) “can do, will do” world they cannot seem to find. A novel steeped in surreal storytelling and beautiful music that transports its half-broken souls—and us—to another realm of the senses.
The the early 1940s, New York—city of refuge, city of hope, with the specter of a red-hot Europe at war.
At the novel’s Anna (known as the Rat), an exotic Hungarian countess with the face of an angel, beautiful eyes, and a seraphic smile, with a passionate intelligence, an exquisite ugliness, and the power to enchant . . . Her second cousin Herbert, a former minor Austrian civil servant who believes in Esperanto and the international rights of man, wheeling and dealing in New York, powerful in the social sphere yet under the thumb of his wife, Adeline . . . Michael, their missing homosexual son . . . Felix, a German pediatrician who dabbles in genetic engineering, practicing from his Upper East Side office with his little dachshund, Schatzie, by his side . . . The Tolstoi String Quartet, four men and their instruments, who for twenty years lived as one, playing the great concert halls of Europe, escaping to New York with their money sewn into the silk linings of their instrument cases . . .
And watching them Herbert’s eight-year-old granddaughter, Maria, who understands from the furtive fear of her mother, and the huddled penury of their lives, and the sense of being in hiding, even in New York, that life is a test of courage and silence, Maria witnessing the family’s strange comings and goings, being regaled at night, when most are asleep, with the intoxicating, thrilling stories of their secret pasts . . . of lives lived in Saint Petersburg . . . of husbands being sent to the front and large, dangerous debts owed to the Tsar of imperial Russia, of late-night visits by coach to the palace of the Romanovs to beg for mercy and avoid execution . . . and at the heart of the stories, told through the long nights with no dawn in sight, the strange, electrifying tale of a pact made in desperation with the private adviser to the Tsar and Tsarina—the mystic faith healer Grigory Rasputin (Russian for “debauched one”), a pact of “companionship” between Anna (the Rat) and the scheming Siberian peasant–turned–holy man, called the Devil by some, the self-proclaimed “only true Christ,” meeting night after night in Rasputin’s apartments, and the spellbinding, unspeakable things done there in the name of penance and pleasure . . .
From the Hardcover edition.
The the early 1940s, New York—city of refuge, city of hope, with the specter of a red-hot Europe at war.
At the novel’s Anna (known as the Rat), an exotic Hungarian countess with the face of an angel, beautiful eyes, and a seraphic smile, with a passionate intelligence, an exquisite ugliness, and the power to enchant . . . Her second cousin Herbert, a former minor Austrian civil servant who believes in Esperanto and the international rights of man, wheeling and dealing in New York, powerful in the social sphere yet under the thumb of his wife, Adeline . . . Michael, their missing homosexual son . . . Felix, a German pediatrician who dabbles in genetic engineering, practicing from his Upper East Side office with his little dachshund, Schatzie, by his side . . . The Tolstoi String Quartet, four men and their instruments, who for twenty years lived as one, playing the great concert halls of Europe, escaping to New York with their money sewn into the silk linings of their instrument cases . . .
And watching them Herbert’s eight-year-old granddaughter, Maria, who understands from the furtive fear of her mother, and the huddled penury of their lives, and the sense of being in hiding, even in New York, that life is a test of courage and silence, Maria witnessing the family’s strange comings and goings, being regaled at night, when most are asleep, with the intoxicating, thrilling stories of their secret pasts . . . of lives lived in Saint Petersburg . . . of husbands being sent to the front and large, dangerous debts owed to the Tsar of imperial Russia, of late-night visits by coach to the palace of the Romanovs to beg for mercy and avoid execution . . . and at the heart of the stories, told through the long nights with no dawn in sight, the strange, electrifying tale of a pact made in desperation with the private adviser to the Tsar and Tsarina—the mystic faith healer Grigory Rasputin (Russian for “debauched one”), a pact of “companionship” between Anna (the Rat) and the scheming Siberian peasant–turned–holy man, called the Devil by some, the self-proclaimed “only true Christ,” meeting night after night in Rasputin’s apartments, and the spellbinding, unspeakable things done there in the name of penance and pleasure . . .
From the Hardcover edition.
304 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 26, 2016
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About the author
Kathleen Spivack
19 books17 followersKathleen Spivack’s newest book is the novel Unspeakable Things (Alfred A. Knopf, 2016). The book centers on European refugees in New York City struggling to survive during the last year of the second World War. Kathleen started this book in France, on a Fulbright grant, during the Maurice Papon trial, while France was re-examining its history.
Kathleen Spivack is the author of With Robert Lowell and His Circle (University Press of New England, 2012), a touching and deeply revealing look into the lives and thoughts of some of the most influential poets of the twentieth century. Kathleen came to Boston in 1959 on a scholarship to study with Robert Lowell. The book includes portraits of other poets of that time: Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton, Elizabeth Bishop, Stanley Kunitz; who took her under their wing, with a strong focus on how they approached their work. With Robert Lowell et al. showcases this journey, the life-changing privilege of being part of a major evolution in modern American poetry.
Other books include: A History of Yearning, Winner of the Sows Ear International Poetry Prize 2010, which went on to win the London Book Festival Poetry Prize, and others; Moments of Past Happiness (Earthwinds/Grolier Editions 2007); The Beds We Lie In (Scarecrow 1986), nominated for a Pulitzer Prize; The Honeymoon (a collection of short stories, Graywolf 1986); Swimmer in the Spreading Dawn (Applewood 1981); The Jane Poems (Doubleday 1973); and Flying Inland (Doubleday 1971). A literary writer, she publishes and performs her work widely: essays, short stories, poetry.
Kathleen Spivack has been a visiting professor of American Literature/Creative Writing (one semester annually) in France since 1990. She has held posts at the University of Paris VII-VIII, the University of Francoise Rabelais, Tours, the University of Versailles, and at the Ecole Superieure (Polytechnique). She was a Fulbright Senior Artist/Professor in Creative Writing in France (1993-95). Her poetry has been featured at festivals in France and in the U.S. She reads and performs in theatres, and she also works with composers. Her song cycles and longer pieces have been performed worldwide.
She has received grants from the National Endowment for the Arts; Bunting Institute; two Radcliffe Institute fellowships; Massachusetts Council for the Arts and Humanities; the Fulbright Commission and others. A Discovery winner, she has held residencies at Yaddo, MacDowell, Ragdale, Karolyi, and the American Academy in Rome. Some recent prizes include: Allen Ginsberg Poetry Award 2010, the 2010 Erica Mumford Award, the 2010 Paumanok Award, Solas/Best Travel Writing Awards, and others. An international writing coach, Kathleen Spivack directs the Advanced Writing Workshop, originally created through the NEA, an intensive program for professional writers. She has taught in the Bahamas, Puerto Rico, Barbados, in Greece, at the Provincetown Fine Arts Work Center in its early days, and for the Holland America Line. She also teaches in Santa Fe, Taos, Aspen, IWWG/ Skidmore, Brown and other programs throughout the United States and abroad.
Published in numerous magazines and anthologies, some of her work has been translated into French. Publications include The New Yorker, Ploughshares, The Atlantic Monthly, Poetry, Massachusetts Review, Virginia Quarterly, The Southern Review, Harvard Review, The Paris Review, The Kenyon Review, Agni, New Letters, and many others, some of which are listed below.
Kathleen Spivack is the author of With Robert Lowell and His Circle (University Press of New England, 2012), a touching and deeply revealing look into the lives and thoughts of some of the most influential poets of the twentieth century. Kathleen came to Boston in 1959 on a scholarship to study with Robert Lowell. The book includes portraits of other poets of that time: Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton, Elizabeth Bishop, Stanley Kunitz; who took her under their wing, with a strong focus on how they approached their work. With Robert Lowell et al. showcases this journey, the life-changing privilege of being part of a major evolution in modern American poetry.
Other books include: A History of Yearning, Winner of the Sows Ear International Poetry Prize 2010, which went on to win the London Book Festival Poetry Prize, and others; Moments of Past Happiness (Earthwinds/Grolier Editions 2007); The Beds We Lie In (Scarecrow 1986), nominated for a Pulitzer Prize; The Honeymoon (a collection of short stories, Graywolf 1986); Swimmer in the Spreading Dawn (Applewood 1981); The Jane Poems (Doubleday 1973); and Flying Inland (Doubleday 1971). A literary writer, she publishes and performs her work widely: essays, short stories, poetry.
Kathleen Spivack has been a visiting professor of American Literature/Creative Writing (one semester annually) in France since 1990. She has held posts at the University of Paris VII-VIII, the University of Francoise Rabelais, Tours, the University of Versailles, and at the Ecole Superieure (Polytechnique). She was a Fulbright Senior Artist/Professor in Creative Writing in France (1993-95). Her poetry has been featured at festivals in France and in the U.S. She reads and performs in theatres, and she also works with composers. Her song cycles and longer pieces have been performed worldwide.
She has received grants from the National Endowment for the Arts; Bunting Institute; two Radcliffe Institute fellowships; Massachusetts Council for the Arts and Humanities; the Fulbright Commission and others. A Discovery winner, she has held residencies at Yaddo, MacDowell, Ragdale, Karolyi, and the American Academy in Rome. Some recent prizes include: Allen Ginsberg Poetry Award 2010, the 2010 Erica Mumford Award, the 2010 Paumanok Award, Solas/Best Travel Writing Awards, and others. An international writing coach, Kathleen Spivack directs the Advanced Writing Workshop, originally created through the NEA, an intensive program for professional writers. She has taught in the Bahamas, Puerto Rico, Barbados, in Greece, at the Provincetown Fine Arts Work Center in its early days, and for the Holland America Line. She also teaches in Santa Fe, Taos, Aspen, IWWG/ Skidmore, Brown and other programs throughout the United States and abroad.
Published in numerous magazines and anthologies, some of her work has been translated into French. Publications include The New Yorker, Ploughshares, The Atlantic Monthly, Poetry, Massachusetts Review, Virginia Quarterly, The Southern Review, Harvard Review, The Paris Review, The Kenyon Review, Agni, New Letters, and many others, some of which are listed below.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 81 reviews
April 22, 2018
Tears were running down my cheeks very early in this novel...my jaw was frozen open...
Mythological in nature..."Unspeakable Things", knocked the wind out of me.
I was caught off guard --I had no idea how breathtaking & heartbreaking this novel would feel ...'immediately' from the start!
"New York. New York, City of Hope. The strident avenues streaked across the city,
silver: fiery arrows like long, bright sounds, almost too much for the ear to bear. And still the band played. Louder. More volume. New York, and the gleaming saxophones
entered in chorus. New York. And now the trumpets rose to a wail, a city of pain,
and the saxophones sang of darker things. Sadness. Nostalgia. New York, City of Dreams Left Behind. New York."
"Each week, the ships came into the harbor, disgorging the crippled remains of Europe, already charred, or at least forever marked".
A one legged whore and her stump...a talented contortionist could put more love into a man and any other girl on the coast.
A rat lady, so little, her body without weight, long whiskers curving out of the mole near the Rat's nose... Anna...( the little Rat lady) was so deformed that her spine resembled that of a shrimp, curved and curled onto itself.
Anna, "Rat Lady", was Hungarian, had a passion for intelligence, literature, language and playing chess with her cousin Herbert. She could not stand straight when she walked. She moved painfully slow with the cane.
"A Rat with the most beautiful eyes, the most seraphic smile. A Rat with the face of an angel, made more beautiful by the imperfections that called attention to her beauty. This Rat have the power to enchant".
Children...lovely children - a wife gone mad - a loss son - another son works in Washington - a Nazi Doctor- refugees- The Tolstoi Quartet...secrets ... atonement..
This is an irresistible non-stop train ride read!
Rare & precious....."Unspeakable Things", validates the power of fiction to awaken
the souls of people damaged by the forces of history.....'Holocaust-Themed'...
......extraordinary beauty!
Thank You Knopf Doubleday Publishing, Netgalley, and to Kathleen Spivack...(Thank you for this amazing book!!!!)
Mythological in nature..."Unspeakable Things", knocked the wind out of me.
I was caught off guard --I had no idea how breathtaking & heartbreaking this novel would feel ...'immediately' from the start!
"New York. New York, City of Hope. The strident avenues streaked across the city,
silver: fiery arrows like long, bright sounds, almost too much for the ear to bear. And still the band played. Louder. More volume. New York, and the gleaming saxophones
entered in chorus. New York. And now the trumpets rose to a wail, a city of pain,
and the saxophones sang of darker things. Sadness. Nostalgia. New York, City of Dreams Left Behind. New York."
"Each week, the ships came into the harbor, disgorging the crippled remains of Europe, already charred, or at least forever marked".
A one legged whore and her stump...a talented contortionist could put more love into a man and any other girl on the coast.
A rat lady, so little, her body without weight, long whiskers curving out of the mole near the Rat's nose... Anna...( the little Rat lady) was so deformed that her spine resembled that of a shrimp, curved and curled onto itself.
Anna, "Rat Lady", was Hungarian, had a passion for intelligence, literature, language and playing chess with her cousin Herbert. She could not stand straight when she walked. She moved painfully slow with the cane.
"A Rat with the most beautiful eyes, the most seraphic smile. A Rat with the face of an angel, made more beautiful by the imperfections that called attention to her beauty. This Rat have the power to enchant".
Children...lovely children - a wife gone mad - a loss son - another son works in Washington - a Nazi Doctor- refugees- The Tolstoi Quartet...secrets ... atonement..
This is an irresistible non-stop train ride read!
Rare & precious....."Unspeakable Things", validates the power of fiction to awaken
the souls of people damaged by the forces of history.....'Holocaust-Themed'...
......extraordinary beauty!
Thank You Knopf Doubleday Publishing, Netgalley, and to Kathleen Spivack...(Thank you for this amazing book!!!!)
April 22, 2018
This novel has an average rating here of 2.83. I don't think I've ever seen a book with a lower average rating. I'm baffled why. True, it's acid trip magical realism alienated me a bit at times but on the whole it's a beautifully written novel with lots of humour and insight into the human condition, especially regarding bereavement, displacement and female struggles with self-esteem.
It's a poetic novel about a family of refugees who have escaped from war torn Vienna to New York. They have left a dead son behind who was killed by the Nazis. The author is especially good at imbuing the present with the past. The past is what everyone is struggling to overcome in their new alien environment. The family are joined by three bizarre characters. There's a deformed character called The Rat whose lover, Rasputin, has left his handprints on her thighs; a Nazi doctor who is a quintessence of Nazi scientific delusion and mania. He keeps animate body parts in jars, including the pinkies of the Tolstoi Quartet, four elderly musicians who lost their fingers for playing inappropriate music in Nazi occupied Vienna.
A comic fable about the Holocaust is perhaps going to alienate some readers. Add to that, it broaches paedophilia in a sometimes discomforting manner. But I often found it illuminating and stirringly mischievous and it's very wise about the struggle to achieve mental health.
It's a poetic novel about a family of refugees who have escaped from war torn Vienna to New York. They have left a dead son behind who was killed by the Nazis. The author is especially good at imbuing the present with the past. The past is what everyone is struggling to overcome in their new alien environment. The family are joined by three bizarre characters. There's a deformed character called The Rat whose lover, Rasputin, has left his handprints on her thighs; a Nazi doctor who is a quintessence of Nazi scientific delusion and mania. He keeps animate body parts in jars, including the pinkies of the Tolstoi Quartet, four elderly musicians who lost their fingers for playing inappropriate music in Nazi occupied Vienna.
A comic fable about the Holocaust is perhaps going to alienate some readers. Add to that, it broaches paedophilia in a sometimes discomforting manner. But I often found it illuminating and stirringly mischievous and it's very wise about the struggle to achieve mental health.
December 19, 2015
2 1/2 stars. As I read it, my reaction to Unspeakable Things swung wildly between loving the cleverness of some of the writing to feeling that the weirdness was over the top. Based on that, I don’t suppose it will be surprising that it seems impossible for me to describe what Unspeakable Things is about. It’s mostly set in New York City during WWII, focusing on a group of European immigrants escaping the war. There is a very surreal quality to the writing and the story. It’s at times horrifying and at times humorous. There's a grandfather, Herbert, who sees himself as burdened with having to help the other newly arrived Europeans, with his secret complex web of knowledge and connections. There are his family members -- wife, living son, dead son, daughter in law and granddaughter -- all living their complicated burdened lives. There’s a brilliant scene in the middle describing a Viennese music quartet, how they ignored their wives to dote on their instruments, and how this ultimately led to their expulsion from Vienna. There’s a deformed aunt who refers to herself as The Rat, who has a complicated sad history including marriage to a Russian count and some nasty entanglement with Rasputin. There’s a perverse doctor, who treats children abominably and has ties back to Hitler’s eugenics projects. And so on… And the lives of these characters are intertwined and intersect in various ways. While parts seemed brilliant and beautifully written, at other times I felt completely lost, a bit repulsed and underwhelmed. This may well be due to my concrete brain and others will no doubt get far more out of Unspeakable Things than I did. Although I must add a note of caution: there are in fact a few unspeakable things that happen in this book, which means that it is definitely not a book for the squeamish. To be honest, I’m still shaking my head trying to figure out what I think of the whole experience. Thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for a chance to read an advance copy.
December 25, 2015
There definitely are unspeakable things in this book and the problem I had was that they were spoken about in such explicit detail . I found it gruesome and offensive in parts, in particular those depicting abhorrent treatment of children. Did things like this really happen? Certainly there were unspeakable things that happened to those trying to escape Hitler as well as those who didn't escape. Of course , they need to be spoken about so we don't forget BUT I think that the effect would have been so much more powerful if some things were left unspoken. I found myself skimming pages just to get through it. I could say more about what I didn't like but I'll leave them unspoken. Two stars because some of the the writing was really very good , but it wasn't enough for me .
Thanks to NetGalley and Knopf.
April 22, 2018
Baroque, Bestial, Brilliant
Though not the prime meaning of the title, the Holocaust surely comes into the category of "unspeakable things." Yet it is a subject that must be spoken of, again and again. And when straight words lose their force, you talk of it obliquely, or backwards, or upside down. The horrors are so obscene that they distort language itself, becoming something close to grotesque farce or surreal pornography. It is an approach we have seen quite a lot in the past two decades, for example in Time's Arrow by Martin Amis, A Blessing on the Moon by Joseph Skibell, or Heidegger's Glasses by Thaisa Frank. Or, for another strikingly oblique approach, though not in the least comic, The White Hotel by D. M. Thomas. I mention these only to mark out some imaginative space within which to site Kathleen Spivack's extraordinary new novel. But hers is wildly original, totally sui generis, and as likely to infuriate some readers as it will delight and disturb others.
Unspeakable Things is more accurately described as a refugee novel, being set in New York City in about 1940; the closest we get to the camps is the departure of a single character from Vienna in a sealed boxcar. But without the Holocaust, none of the characters would have had to flee to New York and live whole families to a single room in cold water flats. No matter how bizarre, how perverse Spivack's action becomes, you know that even more unimaginable things are going on in Auschwitz, Maidanek, and the laboratories of Dr. Mengele. This is the Holocaust reflected in a fun-house mirror, but—unlike the situation in Europe—ultimately offering the hope of emerging from the madhouse and making your garden grow.
Spivack pulls together a peculiar set of characters. There is Herbert, known as Herr Hofrat, a former civil servant who even in New York seems to be able to arrange things for his suffering compatriots who pay court to him in an automat or the Public Library. There is his son, David, who works in Washington, translating ads from German papers in case they contain codes. There is his wife Adeline, a former pianist now confined to a mental hospital. There is Herbert's long-time correspondent (in Esperanto, chess notation, and various more normal languages), Anna, known as "the Rat," a diminutive Russian Countess, permanently bent into the shape of a question mark, whose only experience of physical sex was at the sulfurous hands of the mad monk Rasputin. There is the pediatrician Dr. Felix who plays sex games with his juvenile patients, has a shrine to Hitler in his bedroom, and dreams of being able to clone supermen from preserved genetic material. And there is the Tolstoi Quartet, four aging string players whose price for being smuggled to America was the amputation of their little fingers.
Spivack's writing is superb, ranging from poetic descriptions of New York to the pornographic excesses of Rasputin's assault on the hunchbacked Countess. I cannot quote the first without taking too much space, and the second is too rich for general audiences, but it would be wrong to end without offering some samples of the prose. So here are two brief paragraphs, both from near the end of the novel, the first bizarre, the second sadly true. There is a lot more where these came from:
I originally posted this review on Amazon with a five-star rating. Almost immediately, though, I added a comment giving an alternative point of view, not so much on the quality of Spivack's narrative, but upon the morality of watching it as voyeurs:
Though not the prime meaning of the title, the Holocaust surely comes into the category of "unspeakable things." Yet it is a subject that must be spoken of, again and again. And when straight words lose their force, you talk of it obliquely, or backwards, or upside down. The horrors are so obscene that they distort language itself, becoming something close to grotesque farce or surreal pornography. It is an approach we have seen quite a lot in the past two decades, for example in Time's Arrow by Martin Amis, A Blessing on the Moon by Joseph Skibell, or Heidegger's Glasses by Thaisa Frank. Or, for another strikingly oblique approach, though not in the least comic, The White Hotel by D. M. Thomas. I mention these only to mark out some imaginative space within which to site Kathleen Spivack's extraordinary new novel. But hers is wildly original, totally sui generis, and as likely to infuriate some readers as it will delight and disturb others.
Unspeakable Things is more accurately described as a refugee novel, being set in New York City in about 1940; the closest we get to the camps is the departure of a single character from Vienna in a sealed boxcar. But without the Holocaust, none of the characters would have had to flee to New York and live whole families to a single room in cold water flats. No matter how bizarre, how perverse Spivack's action becomes, you know that even more unimaginable things are going on in Auschwitz, Maidanek, and the laboratories of Dr. Mengele. This is the Holocaust reflected in a fun-house mirror, but—unlike the situation in Europe—ultimately offering the hope of emerging from the madhouse and making your garden grow.
Spivack pulls together a peculiar set of characters. There is Herbert, known as Herr Hofrat, a former civil servant who even in New York seems to be able to arrange things for his suffering compatriots who pay court to him in an automat or the Public Library. There is his son, David, who works in Washington, translating ads from German papers in case they contain codes. There is his wife Adeline, a former pianist now confined to a mental hospital. There is Herbert's long-time correspondent (in Esperanto, chess notation, and various more normal languages), Anna, known as "the Rat," a diminutive Russian Countess, permanently bent into the shape of a question mark, whose only experience of physical sex was at the sulfurous hands of the mad monk Rasputin. There is the pediatrician Dr. Felix who plays sex games with his juvenile patients, has a shrine to Hitler in his bedroom, and dreams of being able to clone supermen from preserved genetic material. And there is the Tolstoi Quartet, four aging string players whose price for being smuggled to America was the amputation of their little fingers.
Spivack's writing is superb, ranging from poetic descriptions of New York to the pornographic excesses of Rasputin's assault on the hunchbacked Countess. I cannot quote the first without taking too much space, and the second is too rich for general audiences, but it would be wrong to end without offering some samples of the prose. So here are two brief paragraphs, both from near the end of the novel, the first bizarre, the second sadly true. There is a lot more where these came from:
From the closed refrigerator, also, came the sound of A, loud and clear, piercing, as the severed quartet fingers cried out from their concealment. "Aleph. We are Alive!" All of New York was sounding to the tone of A: The skyscrapers, the trumpets, the solemn shafts of sunlight piercing, as in the inside of a cathedral, the dark streets.
Home. A difficult concept in a new world. How to find oneself at home again? Far away, the blanketed cities of Europe huddled, the rust of blood on their stones. All that dark tragic history, that sense of cynicism and fatalism led to a point of view that would be known, in the more dignified sense, as "European Philosophy." All founded on certainty, and fear, and the inability to prevent death. Europe reeked of death. […] Here hopes rained like gold, promises burned the land to a crisp, and there was no history to be seen in the hastily thrown up houses of the United States of America.+ + + + + +
I originally posted this review on Amazon with a five-star rating. Almost immediately, though, I added a comment giving an alternative point of view, not so much on the quality of Spivack's narrative, but upon the morality of watching it as voyeurs:
For the sake of fairness, let me offer an opposing view to what I have written above. I said of the Holocaust, "Yet it is a subject that must be spoken of, again and again." Must it? Why? So that we do not forget. For this reason, books like The Diary of Anne Frank or Elie Wiesel's Night—the simple narratives of the Holocaust—should continue to be taught in schools. But is there not also a danger that we do not turn this most terrible example of man's inhumanity into a cliché or, worse, a half-forgotten quarry of source material to be mined by clever authors for some delicious frisson?
In giving an enthusiastic five stars to Kathleen Spivack's novel, I was always aware that behind her playfulness there was the murder of an entire people, that behind her pornography lay true events even more obscene. But I felt this because I had already read the simple narratives; I already knew. But supposing I didn't? Can I say that anything in Spivack's book told me about them, or even made me see them in a new light? The White Hotel by DM Thomas, to which I compared her novel, for all the extraordinary weirdness with which it opened, did at the end let me approach the Holocaust through a back door, so to speak; you went through and suddenly there it was, in all its horror. There is no such back door in this novel, no way in which the real events in Europe might be accessed through the fictional ones in America. I responded to Spivack as a clever author—but should I have done? Is not the very idea obscene?
May 31, 2016
If ever there were unspeakable things done to humanity, it was during the years of the Holocaust. But does that mean we do not speak of them? And if we do dare to speak of them, what tone should we use?
Last year, I read Martin Amis’ audacious Zone of Interest, a book that used the novelist’s art to convey the absurdity and senselessness of the Holocaust. At that time, I noted that the story was about the death of the collective souls of virtually everyone even marginally involved.
I might say the same thing for Kathleen Spivack’s book. The biggest difference – and it is a major one – is that the action is removed from the concentration camps and plays out in post World War II New York City.
Here, we meet Herbert – a former Austrian official – and his hunchback second cousin Anna, “a Rat with the face of an angel, made more beautiful by the imperfections that called attention to her beauty. This Rat had the power to enchant.” In the wings is Herbert’s deceased son Michael, his son David and defiled granddaughter Maria, and the Tolstoi Quartet, who sacrificed their four pinky fingers in order to leave Vienna. And front and center is the soulmate of Dr. Mengele, Dr. Felix, who does unspeakable things to his young patients.
There are many adjectives that come to mind in trying to describe this novel: daring, haunting, dark, creepy, and surreal are just five of them. Certainly Ms. Spivack succeeds in casting a spell and one of her themes appears to be the pervasiveness of evil—the fact that evil is never truly contained but does become collective. “So maybe it is like the laws of continuous conservative of energy. Nothing ever goes away; it just changes. So evil stays in the world, perhaps only lying dormant for a moment, in a heap, its black wings folded.”
And yet, in comparing her work to Martin Amis’ book – which also is Holocaust-themed and pushes the envelope in its attempt to illuminate existing evil – Unspeakable Things came up wanting. From time to time – particularly in the portrayal of the reprehensible Dr. Felix – I could sense the author’s disdain for her character (for instance, having him cross-dress and passionately kiss a photo of the Fuhrer.) I wanted to build up that disdain (not hard to do) by myself. Often, she uses adverbs (“he said, beseechingly”) as if to give the reader stage directions on how to interpret what’s going on.
There are other small fault lines as well: we are teased with the story of Michael yet we never get a sense as to why his family survived and he did not. The Rat’s two weeks with the mystical advisor Rasputin skirt are elusive and vaguely pornographic. I assume Rasputin represents Hitler himself – a Satan character who casts his spell over an entire country. But what does that say about Anna? That part of her fell under Hitler’s spell? I was never quite sure.
All in all, I applaud Kathleen Spivack’s flights of imagination. But I can’t say I was totally satisfied.
Last year, I read Martin Amis’ audacious Zone of Interest, a book that used the novelist’s art to convey the absurdity and senselessness of the Holocaust. At that time, I noted that the story was about the death of the collective souls of virtually everyone even marginally involved.
I might say the same thing for Kathleen Spivack’s book. The biggest difference – and it is a major one – is that the action is removed from the concentration camps and plays out in post World War II New York City.
Here, we meet Herbert – a former Austrian official – and his hunchback second cousin Anna, “a Rat with the face of an angel, made more beautiful by the imperfections that called attention to her beauty. This Rat had the power to enchant.” In the wings is Herbert’s deceased son Michael, his son David and defiled granddaughter Maria, and the Tolstoi Quartet, who sacrificed their four pinky fingers in order to leave Vienna. And front and center is the soulmate of Dr. Mengele, Dr. Felix, who does unspeakable things to his young patients.
There are many adjectives that come to mind in trying to describe this novel: daring, haunting, dark, creepy, and surreal are just five of them. Certainly Ms. Spivack succeeds in casting a spell and one of her themes appears to be the pervasiveness of evil—the fact that evil is never truly contained but does become collective. “So maybe it is like the laws of continuous conservative of energy. Nothing ever goes away; it just changes. So evil stays in the world, perhaps only lying dormant for a moment, in a heap, its black wings folded.”
And yet, in comparing her work to Martin Amis’ book – which also is Holocaust-themed and pushes the envelope in its attempt to illuminate existing evil – Unspeakable Things came up wanting. From time to time – particularly in the portrayal of the reprehensible Dr. Felix – I could sense the author’s disdain for her character (for instance, having him cross-dress and passionately kiss a photo of the Fuhrer.) I wanted to build up that disdain (not hard to do) by myself. Often, she uses adverbs (“he said, beseechingly”) as if to give the reader stage directions on how to interpret what’s going on.
There are other small fault lines as well: we are teased with the story of Michael yet we never get a sense as to why his family survived and he did not. The Rat’s two weeks with the mystical advisor Rasputin skirt are elusive and vaguely pornographic. I assume Rasputin represents Hitler himself – a Satan character who casts his spell over an entire country. But what does that say about Anna? That part of her fell under Hitler’s spell? I was never quite sure.
All in all, I applaud Kathleen Spivack’s flights of imagination. But I can’t say I was totally satisfied.
December 6, 2015
Unspeakable things refer to the shattered lives of Holocaust survivors, as well as the harrowing acts that happen to certain refugees and their loved ones living in New York City. Herbert, a Viennese government official, has relocated to NYC and is putting all his money and energy into helping other refugees from the war. His wife, Adeline, a former pianist, lost her mind after their oldest son, a homosexual, was captured by the Nazis and taken to an extermination camp. Their other son, David, is living in Washington D.C. as a cryptologist. Herbert’s second cousin, Anna, a Hungarian known as the Rat, is a woman with an “exquisite ugliness,” a deformed spine and three whiskers growing from the mole on her face, but she has a beautiful face, a seraphic smile, deep, penetrating eyes, and a gentle heart, and is the unlikely hero of the story.
Then there is Dr. Felix, an insane Mengele-esque doctor who performs unspeakable acts, as well as dabbling in a menacing form of genetic engineering. His relationship to the Tolstoi String Quartet, a group of older male musicians, is a form of specimen collection and monstrous science, which eventually incite Herbert and the Rat. And then there is Rasputin, who changes the Rat forever. Herbert and company form the foreground, while in the background, Hitler’s Germany rages on, yet between Herbert and Hitler is a surreal space of remove, a daub of magical realism that adds a touch of grace and a twisted beauty. It is a dark, eerie, bleak and depraved place that also resonates with hope. Art, literature, language, music, and poetry survive within the most horrifying events.
What makes this novel so sui generis is the prose, which creates the touches of magical realism that penetrate the story or swirl the reality with a fantastical lift. For example: ”The instruments in their cases began to throb, their nose swelling next to their owners. From the dark cases came discordant deaf-mute sounds, a cacophony of scrapes, the meaningless tonalities of deserted music. The violins sobbed like sick women; the viola and violoncello howled.”
This is such an aslant Holocaust/not Holocaust story--mixing fairy tales with human horror-- that I don’t recommend it for everyone. Without the Holocaust in the background, this story wouldn’t be as meaningful, yet it occurs at a distance, in America, and with individuals fighting different struggles, for the most part. As long as the reader isn’t looking for something customary, and can look so far outside the box that the box has changed shape, then it surely may be a rare and bittersweet experience. Unspeakably so.
Then there is Dr. Felix, an insane Mengele-esque doctor who performs unspeakable acts, as well as dabbling in a menacing form of genetic engineering. His relationship to the Tolstoi String Quartet, a group of older male musicians, is a form of specimen collection and monstrous science, which eventually incite Herbert and the Rat. And then there is Rasputin, who changes the Rat forever. Herbert and company form the foreground, while in the background, Hitler’s Germany rages on, yet between Herbert and Hitler is a surreal space of remove, a daub of magical realism that adds a touch of grace and a twisted beauty. It is a dark, eerie, bleak and depraved place that also resonates with hope. Art, literature, language, music, and poetry survive within the most horrifying events.
What makes this novel so sui generis is the prose, which creates the touches of magical realism that penetrate the story or swirl the reality with a fantastical lift. For example: ”The instruments in their cases began to throb, their nose swelling next to their owners. From the dark cases came discordant deaf-mute sounds, a cacophony of scrapes, the meaningless tonalities of deserted music. The violins sobbed like sick women; the viola and violoncello howled.”
This is such an aslant Holocaust/not Holocaust story--mixing fairy tales with human horror-- that I don’t recommend it for everyone. Without the Holocaust in the background, this story wouldn’t be as meaningful, yet it occurs at a distance, in America, and with individuals fighting different struggles, for the most part. As long as the reader isn’t looking for something customary, and can look so far outside the box that the box has changed shape, then it surely may be a rare and bittersweet experience. Unspeakably so.
November 21, 2015
Author Kathleen Spivack, in her episodic novel, Unspeakable Things, takes the reader from the dark precipice of the old world during the war-torn 1940s, to the new life which is being created, haltingly and painfully, by the intelligentsia who have escaped to New York. Refugees from Europe, they attempt to continue their lives in New York City. It is a moment in time which is suspended. There is little direction. Memories hold as much import and reality as actions for the family to whom the reader is introduced. There is Herbert, now a grandfather, who is struggling to accept his position as this small community's man with the answers. His wife has gone mad with the loss of their son Michael. Their other son, David, works in Washington as a decoder or cipher. His grandchildren are still young. Only Ilse, David's wife, who works, seems to have adapted to the new way of life they are living in New York.
When the little Countess, Anna (also known as "the Rat", for her ugliness and beauty combined) arrives to live with the family, other forces begin to affect each member. Her powerful presence is a physical as well as intellectual signal for change.
Additionally playing a critical part in this novel is Felix, a Nazi doctor who is a scientist attempting to realize the dream of the master race from specimens he collects and cultures. In fact, he has specimens from the Tolstoi Quartet. They too arrive in New York during the course of Unspeakable Things. Each one of them is missing something essential without which they will be unable to play pieces as they once did in Vienna.
What are the "Unspeakable Things" which are brought to light by this novel? They could be construed as the unspeakable things which the little Countess, Anna, brings up to the child Maria. These concern the physical and sexual brutality she underwent at the hands of Rasputin in order to pay off a debt owed by her husband, a debauched count.The passion and depravity she experienced changed her forever.
Even more however, the unspeakable things concern the horror and brutality brought upon Europe by Hitler and the Nazis.The loss and the darkness which swept away whole civilizations and peoples is portrayed within this novel frighteningly and horrifyingly, yet from one step removed.
The author, with vivid and powerful writing, plunges the reader into this time period in New York. The balance of things is beginning to turn from old to new. However, for many within this tiny cadre of refugees, memories hold them and keep them from taking action as if they are trapped within specimen jars, hopeless in a collection kept barely alive by a mad scientist. Only the little Countess make an ultimate sacrifice.
Finally, from the haunting and horrible depths comes the unquenchable urge for a new Spring, and a new life. To accomplish this, values of beauty and refinement must be left behind, like photographs of strangers, in silver frames. Were they real? What significance did they have? Many things which represent the arts and beauty, and all that we embrace and cleave to in our humanity, are lost during this time of transition.
In the end, Unspeakable Things turns and faces renewal and change. A choice is made. The old is left behind. What unfolds and adapts may be prosaic, however it promises a future for the next generation.
When the little Countess, Anna (also known as "the Rat", for her ugliness and beauty combined) arrives to live with the family, other forces begin to affect each member. Her powerful presence is a physical as well as intellectual signal for change.
Additionally playing a critical part in this novel is Felix, a Nazi doctor who is a scientist attempting to realize the dream of the master race from specimens he collects and cultures. In fact, he has specimens from the Tolstoi Quartet. They too arrive in New York during the course of Unspeakable Things. Each one of them is missing something essential without which they will be unable to play pieces as they once did in Vienna.
What are the "Unspeakable Things" which are brought to light by this novel? They could be construed as the unspeakable things which the little Countess, Anna, brings up to the child Maria. These concern the physical and sexual brutality she underwent at the hands of Rasputin in order to pay off a debt owed by her husband, a debauched count.The passion and depravity she experienced changed her forever.
Even more however, the unspeakable things concern the horror and brutality brought upon Europe by Hitler and the Nazis.The loss and the darkness which swept away whole civilizations and peoples is portrayed within this novel frighteningly and horrifyingly, yet from one step removed.
The author, with vivid and powerful writing, plunges the reader into this time period in New York. The balance of things is beginning to turn from old to new. However, for many within this tiny cadre of refugees, memories hold them and keep them from taking action as if they are trapped within specimen jars, hopeless in a collection kept barely alive by a mad scientist. Only the little Countess make an ultimate sacrifice.
Finally, from the haunting and horrible depths comes the unquenchable urge for a new Spring, and a new life. To accomplish this, values of beauty and refinement must be left behind, like photographs of strangers, in silver frames. Were they real? What significance did they have? Many things which represent the arts and beauty, and all that we embrace and cleave to in our humanity, are lost during this time of transition.
In the end, Unspeakable Things turns and faces renewal and change. A choice is made. The old is left behind. What unfolds and adapts may be prosaic, however it promises a future for the next generation.
January 25, 2016
I received an advanced review copy from Edelweiss in exchange for an honest review.
*Unspeakable Things* is a WW2 novel set in New York City. There is literally a ton of unspeakable things that happen to children and adults in this book, so much so, that I couldn't finish. The writing was brilliant, but the subject was a bit too much for me.
*Unspeakable Things* is a WW2 novel set in New York City. There is literally a ton of unspeakable things that happen to children and adults in this book, so much so, that I couldn't finish. The writing was brilliant, but the subject was a bit too much for me.
December 8, 2015
Charming characters, detailed description of scenes, gentle pace of events, strangely mysterious and rich concepts, all in all an enchanting read...
August 12, 2024
Initially I thought this would be in the vein of A Gentleman in Moscow, an atmospheric kind of fable. It does start and end that way and there are passages of great beauty in between, because Spivak does have a way with words: her descriptive imagery is brilliant and evocative, and if I were the sort of person who used words like crystalline and luminous, I would certainly describe her writing that way.
But the story? I suppose you could say it is a sort of magical-realist/black whimsy-rather-than-comedy, an interpretation of the European refugee experience in the USA. But plot development is not one of Spivak’s strong points – this is more a series of loosely-linked vignettes involving a fairly large cast of characters. So rather than attempt to summarize the story I’ll just describe some of them …
• Herbert, a Jewish refugee from Vienna who does some sort of unspecified immigrant support, working out of the New York Public Library and a cafeteria;
• his tiny cousin Anna (affectionately called “the Rat”) who has a severe spinal deformation; a penniless countess who had a porny relationship with Rasputin that would surely qualify for the Bad Sex in Fiction award **;
• Felix, a mad cross-dressing Nazi-loving doctor and paedophile, with delusions of regenerating life from body parts that he keeps in mason jars;
• Herbert’s granddaughter Maria aged about 9, attempting to be dead inside as a result of Felix’s abuse; she forms a bond with Anna who has to share her bed;
• Herbert's older son David, mostly absent on government work in Washington;
• David’s wife Ilse who is not Jewish and is also under Felix’s spell and unable to protect Maria;
• Herbert’s wife Adeline, formerly a talented pianist but now a psychiatric patient, driven mad with grief after her younger son Michael was deported and murdered in Vienna;
• Michael’s therapist-lite spirit, a calming and reassuring but rather creepy ghost who once interposed himself between David’s and Ilse’s lovemaking;
• and four members of an obsessive Viennese string quartet with animated instruments, now refugees in New York, and whose little fingers came into the possession of the said Dr. Felix.
But the whimsical elements – mainly the musicians’ tale and their talking instruments, but also some of Felix’s antics – don’t sit at all well with the black and sombre parts, and particularly not with Maria’s extreme distress (all magically resolved, by the way, in a long session with Michael’s spirit).
With the Felix character in mind, I tried to read this as a Dr. Strangelove-like black satire - though it isn’t satirizing anything - but there is way, way too much maudlin reflectivity for that.
However, it’s the dialogue that really kills Unspeakable Things; it’s histrionic, artificial and repetitive (I swore I would scream if I saw anyone addressed as “dear Lady” one more time … and then I did, aaaaaaugh!), with Adeline’s madness and the musicians’ pleas to Herbert being particularly stagey and melodramatic.
So dialogue is not Spivak’s strong point either. As I mentioned, the woman can certainly write but I just didn’t know what she was trying to say here.
________________
** a short example, or you won’t believe me:
But the story? I suppose you could say it is a sort of magical-realist/black whimsy-rather-than-comedy, an interpretation of the European refugee experience in the USA. But plot development is not one of Spivak’s strong points – this is more a series of loosely-linked vignettes involving a fairly large cast of characters. So rather than attempt to summarize the story I’ll just describe some of them …
• Herbert, a Jewish refugee from Vienna who does some sort of unspecified immigrant support, working out of the New York Public Library and a cafeteria;
• his tiny cousin Anna (affectionately called “the Rat”) who has a severe spinal deformation; a penniless countess who had a porny relationship with Rasputin that would surely qualify for the Bad Sex in Fiction award **;
• Felix, a mad cross-dressing Nazi-loving doctor and paedophile, with delusions of regenerating life from body parts that he keeps in mason jars;
• Herbert’s granddaughter Maria aged about 9, attempting to be dead inside as a result of Felix’s abuse; she forms a bond with Anna who has to share her bed;
• Herbert's older son David, mostly absent on government work in Washington;
• David’s wife Ilse who is not Jewish and is also under Felix’s spell and unable to protect Maria;
• Herbert’s wife Adeline, formerly a talented pianist but now a psychiatric patient, driven mad with grief after her younger son Michael was deported and murdered in Vienna;
• Michael’s therapist-lite spirit, a calming and reassuring but rather creepy ghost who once interposed himself between David’s and Ilse’s lovemaking;
• and four members of an obsessive Viennese string quartet with animated instruments, now refugees in New York, and whose little fingers came into the possession of the said Dr. Felix.
But the whimsical elements – mainly the musicians’ tale and their talking instruments, but also some of Felix’s antics – don’t sit at all well with the black and sombre parts, and particularly not with Maria’s extreme distress (all magically resolved, by the way, in a long session with Michael’s spirit).
With the Felix character in mind, I tried to read this as a Dr. Strangelove-like black satire - though it isn’t satirizing anything - but there is way, way too much maudlin reflectivity for that.
However, it’s the dialogue that really kills Unspeakable Things; it’s histrionic, artificial and repetitive (I swore I would scream if I saw anyone addressed as “dear Lady” one more time … and then I did, aaaaaaugh!), with Adeline’s madness and the musicians’ pleas to Herbert being particularly stagey and melodramatic.
So dialogue is not Spivak’s strong point either. As I mentioned, the woman can certainly write but I just didn’t know what she was trying to say here.
________________
** a short example, or you won’t believe me:
“Look at me,” Rasputin commanded. Rasputin parted the skirts of his robe. His mad eyes fixed on hers; he drew from his skirts his enormous member. It throbbed and weaved toward her, pointing toward her body as surely as a dowser’s stick. It quivered. “Look!” Anna tried to look away, down, up, anywhere but directly in front of her. “Look. Behold the Rod of God!” There was moisture on the end of it, a shiny, pearly drop hanging from its tip. The enormous branch of flesh moved toward her; it appeared to be drooling lasciviously. Despite herself, an answering river of liquid ran through her body, down her thighs, a shining river on which to travel inward.
Rasputin stared at her fixedly as his member grew and swelled. “Down on your knees,” he commanded. “Down on your knees before your God!” He grappled for her hump, held it, clawing, palpating. Roughly, he pushed her head against him. The oversized penis grew and found her mouth. “On your knees. Pray,” commanded Rasputin. “Pray, my little Countess.”
February 3, 2016
At this point in my life I've read so much Holocaust fiction that I feel a book needs to do something completely different in order to catch my attention. In this regard Unspeakable Things is revolutionary. There is a strong mix of magical realism and horror throughout and the subject matter is often unsettling but I thoroughly enjoyed it. I loved how Kathleen Spivack captured the plight of the refugees from the doom and gloom of Nazi-occupied Europe to the "clean and new" United States. The Tolstoi String Quartet was my favorite section - so whimsical and fantastical!
December 17, 2015
Thanks Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group and netgalley for this ARC.
I've read a few negative reviews of this book, and i think those people are missing the point. This is meant to be whimsy and funny while making us cry and laugh. Kathleen Spivack hits all the right notes on a hard subject to write and read about.
I've read a few negative reviews of this book, and i think those people are missing the point. This is meant to be whimsy and funny while making us cry and laugh. Kathleen Spivack hits all the right notes on a hard subject to write and read about.
May 4, 2018
I don't even know what to say about this book. I knew the reviews were mixed, but I didn't expect to be this let down. I guess it's a story of the Holocaust and the refugee crisis during WWII told in an allegory? Maybe I'm not smart enough or literary enough, but I didn't like her writing. Maybe poetry is her thing and she should stick with it.
February 18, 2016
From The Musings of a Starving Author:
There is a temptation from the menu entry of Unspeakable Things to want to put it into certain categories, certain specific cuisines. A homefront war novel, perhaps? A coming-of-age historical novel? A Holocaust-themed book? What will this meal actually turn out to be when it gets to the table? Better yet, will it be any good?
Before we dig to the bottom of the dish, let’s recite the Starving Review motto:
I attempt to rate every book from the perspective of a fan of the genre
I attempt to make every review as spoiler-free as possible
Unspeakable is all of those things and much more. I would argue it defies easy genre classification outside of ‘historical fiction’. There are dashes of science-fiction, splashes of fantasy, spicy notes of pure horror, and a generous dash of the erotic, on top of everything I mentioned in the first paragraph, save the Holocaust theme. Not that the Holocaust isn’t touched on in several parts, but it does not dominate the theme like many Holocaust-related meals. This I particularly enjoyed, as the meal reveals in each escalating course, building up to a crescendo of overlapping, brilliant insanity that weaves together into a weirdly coherent whole.
The primary strengths of this meal are its characters and its theme. Unabashedly over-the-top, the cast of characters are deep and vibrant, strange and yet very relatable. As the primary narrative runs on this cast, it lends quite a bit of flavor to the entire book. Thematically, the emphasis on love, loss, and desire touches on primal desires that almost everyone shares and is handled with a strong but careful focus.
I think it’s a good point to bring up that Unspeakable Things does, indeed, include many unspeakably horrific ingredients. Evil deeds are in this mix, my foodies, and these deeds are not shied from one bit. This will no doubt be one of the big, divisive point over whether one will find this meal good or bad. If you have a strong tolerance for the evils of man, then you can dig deeper to explore the overall themes and narrative. If you don’t, you may simply be unable to go the distance of all the courses.
While so much of the book is properly cooked, there is one overall foible in the recipe that I would be remiss to not point out. Unspeakable may talk of things many may want to not speak of, but it doesn’t shy away from using many, many words to talk about them. What I mean to say is that the decorative spices, adjectives and adverbs, are sometimes dumped in rather than carefully mixed. This isn’t a constant. Often, the descriptions are quite lovely and evocative, but there are moments where the narrative hits a crawl under the burden of cloying, excessive spice. Fair warning!
To sum it up, Unspeakable Things mixes in a variety of spices and flavors, often to brilliant effect, but doesn’t shy away from its namesakes. If you find historical fiction with endless, strange twists appealing, you should definitely sample this dish. If there are certain limits you have to your reading sensibilities, especially sexual ones, or are adverse to prose that at times edges towards the purple, you might want to pass this one buy.
FINAL VERDICT: **** (A variety of spices and flavors, often to brilliant effect, but doesn’t shy away from its namesakes!)
There is a temptation from the menu entry of Unspeakable Things to want to put it into certain categories, certain specific cuisines. A homefront war novel, perhaps? A coming-of-age historical novel? A Holocaust-themed book? What will this meal actually turn out to be when it gets to the table? Better yet, will it be any good?
Before we dig to the bottom of the dish, let’s recite the Starving Review motto:
I attempt to rate every book from the perspective of a fan of the genre
I attempt to make every review as spoiler-free as possible
Unspeakable is all of those things and much more. I would argue it defies easy genre classification outside of ‘historical fiction’. There are dashes of science-fiction, splashes of fantasy, spicy notes of pure horror, and a generous dash of the erotic, on top of everything I mentioned in the first paragraph, save the Holocaust theme. Not that the Holocaust isn’t touched on in several parts, but it does not dominate the theme like many Holocaust-related meals. This I particularly enjoyed, as the meal reveals in each escalating course, building up to a crescendo of overlapping, brilliant insanity that weaves together into a weirdly coherent whole.
The primary strengths of this meal are its characters and its theme. Unabashedly over-the-top, the cast of characters are deep and vibrant, strange and yet very relatable. As the primary narrative runs on this cast, it lends quite a bit of flavor to the entire book. Thematically, the emphasis on love, loss, and desire touches on primal desires that almost everyone shares and is handled with a strong but careful focus.
I think it’s a good point to bring up that Unspeakable Things does, indeed, include many unspeakably horrific ingredients. Evil deeds are in this mix, my foodies, and these deeds are not shied from one bit. This will no doubt be one of the big, divisive point over whether one will find this meal good or bad. If you have a strong tolerance for the evils of man, then you can dig deeper to explore the overall themes and narrative. If you don’t, you may simply be unable to go the distance of all the courses.
While so much of the book is properly cooked, there is one overall foible in the recipe that I would be remiss to not point out. Unspeakable may talk of things many may want to not speak of, but it doesn’t shy away from using many, many words to talk about them. What I mean to say is that the decorative spices, adjectives and adverbs, are sometimes dumped in rather than carefully mixed. This isn’t a constant. Often, the descriptions are quite lovely and evocative, but there are moments where the narrative hits a crawl under the burden of cloying, excessive spice. Fair warning!
To sum it up, Unspeakable Things mixes in a variety of spices and flavors, often to brilliant effect, but doesn’t shy away from its namesakes. If you find historical fiction with endless, strange twists appealing, you should definitely sample this dish. If there are certain limits you have to your reading sensibilities, especially sexual ones, or are adverse to prose that at times edges towards the purple, you might want to pass this one buy.
FINAL VERDICT: **** (A variety of spices and flavors, often to brilliant effect, but doesn’t shy away from its namesakes!)
January 28, 2016
Sometimes the title of a book is a review in itself. There are many unspeakable things in this book that I sincerely hope I never have to think about again. At the top of the list –
- the use of the word aureole
“Once again, an aureole of light seemed to life him by his meager hair….”
“And Maria’s grandfather, his white hair an aureole about his head…”
“…her gray hair in a tousled aureole, staring at nothing.”
“His penis flared; a shining aureole surrounded it.”
“…bushy hair stood on end, making an aureole around his head like illustrations in the German children’s book Struwwelpeter.”
“…large ears backlit, his head like an aureole.”
- and also thrumming (used 24 times).
“Herbert’s ears, large and transparent, thrummed to the A sound.”
“…closed her eyes, and her left whisker thrummed. Felix stroked her body gently.”
- Rasputin’s enormous rod
- fingertips with personalities
“Across the city, the fingers were thrumming like mad, calling.”
- string instruments that behave like ponies
“The musicians removed their gloved hands from their instruments’ strings and bowed. Like plunging horses, the instruments also bowed their necks, whinnying slightly.”
- a Nazi doctor in stockings and a birthday party hat
Now let’s not speak of this book again.
1/5
I received my copy of Unspeakable Things from the publisher, Knopf Doubleday, via NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.
- the use of the word aureole
“Once again, an aureole of light seemed to life him by his meager hair….”
“And Maria’s grandfather, his white hair an aureole about his head…”
“…her gray hair in a tousled aureole, staring at nothing.”
“His penis flared; a shining aureole surrounded it.”
“…bushy hair stood on end, making an aureole around his head like illustrations in the German children’s book Struwwelpeter.”
“…large ears backlit, his head like an aureole.”
- and also thrumming (used 24 times).
“Herbert’s ears, large and transparent, thrummed to the A sound.”
“…closed her eyes, and her left whisker thrummed. Felix stroked her body gently.”
- Rasputin’s enormous rod
- fingertips with personalities
“Across the city, the fingers were thrumming like mad, calling.”
- string instruments that behave like ponies
“The musicians removed their gloved hands from their instruments’ strings and bowed. Like plunging horses, the instruments also bowed their necks, whinnying slightly.”
- a Nazi doctor in stockings and a birthday party hat
Now let’s not speak of this book again.
1/5
I received my copy of Unspeakable Things from the publisher, Knopf Doubleday, via NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.
April 30, 2016
I saw this book likened to All the Light We Cannot See on a book blog somewhere, so I had to give it a try. Honestly, I'm not sure why I stuck with it to the end. The title is at least appropriate, many of the characters in this book are guilty of Unspeakable Things... and that's about the most I can say for it. That, and sometimes there's a pretty turn of phrase.
But I found this appalling, and it's not often I feel that way. I'm not a very sensitive person, so it takes a lot to get under my skin in that way. But when a character like Felix, an expatriate Nazi doctor who does awful things to small children, and a myriad of other awful things on top of that, is written in a somewhat sympathetic light despite the gravity of his extremely graphic inexcusable actions, it's hard to feel anything else.
Hated Felix, hated the obliviousness and stupidity of many of the characters, hated how "The Rat" Anna had zero character growth and was never allowed happiness, hated how poor Maria was always left on her own despite the presence of a ghost which may or may not have existed, hated the convenience of many things which made it all feel too tidy and laughable ... and the list goes on. I have literally nothing good to say about this one. Spare yourself.
But I found this appalling, and it's not often I feel that way. I'm not a very sensitive person, so it takes a lot to get under my skin in that way. But when a character like Felix, an expatriate Nazi doctor who does awful things to small children, and a myriad of other awful things on top of that, is written in a somewhat sympathetic light despite the gravity of his extremely graphic inexcusable actions, it's hard to feel anything else.
Hated Felix, hated the obliviousness and stupidity of many of the characters, hated how "The Rat" Anna had zero character growth and was never allowed happiness, hated how poor Maria was always left on her own despite the presence of a ghost which may or may not have existed, hated the convenience of many things which made it all feel too tidy and laughable ... and the list goes on. I have literally nothing good to say about this one. Spare yourself.
March 7, 2016
Unspeakable Things is a haunting tale of the depth of depravity humans are capable of enduring and sustaining within as told through a tale that centers on a group immigrants who fled to NYC in the 1940's from Europe during WWII and the ugly, unspeakable thoughts and acts that define them. They have brought all of the unspeakable things with them, carrying them knowingly and involuntarily into their place of freedom. The irony of this book is essential - speaking so graphically, loudly, and in such detailed, beautiful prose about the unspeakable things humans harbor in their hearts, minds, and soul, how humans act and fail to act upon while believing they are doing so to protect or promote a common or their own individual humanity - and rife throughout this masterpiece.
I was wrecked for days after reading this book. Staring at such harsh, undigestible truths; witnessing each of the innumerable dark, deeply disturbing acts; I was laid bare, vulnerable, bereft. And that, my fellow readers, is a hallmark of the very best kind of book.
I was wrecked for days after reading this book. Staring at such harsh, undigestible truths; witnessing each of the innumerable dark, deeply disturbing acts; I was laid bare, vulnerable, bereft. And that, my fellow readers, is a hallmark of the very best kind of book.
June 29, 2016
I am still composing review in my head--a lot to digest...
...and I am back, six months later to finish.
I gave this book 3 stars because the writing was quite good, but, always a but, some elements of the book were really weird. I am a pretty open reader, and understand magical realism, sometimes enjoy it. I could handle the pedophilic doctor with fingers in jars who planned to reconstitute the musicians, weird, but novel. I liked the characters. I liked the themes, I liked the setting. Except the Rasputin sexual penance/pleasure. It was strange and unpleasant to read. Did she get her children back, no, I guess. All that for nothing. No bitterness because it was a little pleasurable on her part. Ick. Rape fantasies are not my thing, never will be.
...and I am back, six months later to finish.
I gave this book 3 stars because the writing was quite good, but, always a but, some elements of the book were really weird. I am a pretty open reader, and understand magical realism, sometimes enjoy it. I could handle the pedophilic doctor with fingers in jars who planned to reconstitute the musicians, weird, but novel. I liked the characters. I liked the themes, I liked the setting. Except the Rasputin sexual penance/pleasure. It was strange and unpleasant to read. Did she get her children back, no, I guess. All that for nothing. No bitterness because it was a little pleasurable on her part. Ick. Rape fantasies are not my thing, never will be.
June 7, 2016
a strange mix of historical wwii and nyc experience with magical happenings a la marquez. some bold metaphors, some gruesome 'things' happening to the defenseless, but very little about the actual nazis, but the unspeakable things people can/will/would do to ones that might be just a little bit less powerful. has very nice passages about the ny public library. a unique story in wwii topics.
March 8, 2024
My first thought when I see a GoodReads rating in the 2s is to be suspicious of the reviewers. No book can truly be that bad. There must be some political agenda at play.
But well before finishing this book, I realized if I was to rate it 3 stars, it’s because I’m rounding up from 2.5. I may reserve the right to change the star-rating later.
Oh, this book. There is perhaps some beautiful writing about refugee trauma, supremacist ideology and the American dream. But most of it seems to be Fifty Shades of Grey marketed towards the Holocaust reader.
Actually, Fifty Shades of Grey may be more tame than this.
Unrelatedly, this book is also fabulist, which is rarely my cup of tea. But in this case, the emotive fingernails in jars and a ghostly relative who pops in and out weren’t the most off-putting part of the story.
This is the story of German refugees in New York City during WWII. Arguably, Herbert is our main character and arguably he’s Jewish (Spivak’s characterization tends to shift towards the vague.) Herbert’s son, Michael, was sent to a concentration camp in a move that apparently saved the rest of the family for some reason. Michael occasionally appears as a ghost to contribute to family angst scenes.
Herbert is also a cousin to a White Russian countess, a woman named Anna, or “the Rat,” whose deformity is explored in increasingly dehumanizing terms. There’s a whole subplot with Rasputin, which good grief. Ana and Christian would blush. The opening chapter sees her smuggled into Herbert at the New York Public Library.
In the present day of the story, Herbert and his son, David, are trying to save people from the Nazis. David works in a basement office intercepting mail, including from his daughter’s Nazi pediatrician, Felix. No one ever seems to put two and two together about what a one-dimensional villain Felix is despite his creepy behavior even when he’s in public. The central plot poses him as a secret Nazi doctor who’s sent amputated body parts from Germany in order to try and Dr. Frankenstein together a master race.
There’s an alarming amount of infantilization of women happening in this book, from the sexual foreplay to the way husbands treat their wives. I first picked up this book for my Page 112 Tag TBR game on BookTube, and I was positive the page in question centered on men looking for their children. Nope. This feels even more squicky when a pedophilia subplot is introduced.
Anywho, after saving Anna “the Rat” from the Nazis, Herbert moves onto the Tolstoi quartet, the men who were looking for their wives on page 112. Unfortunately, these men were so in love with their music that they neglected their wives, and then Nazis cut off their pinky fingers for not playing German nationalist music. Plotlines converge as Herbert, David and Anna center in on saving the pinkies from Felix and reuniting them with their owners.
Beautiful language and half-formed metaphors about intriguing ideas don’t cut it for me when the characters and plot are one-dimensional at best and offensive at worst. What a slog of a read, as if I have time for this. (DNF time, self?) Hopefully, future me will be much more contented with the books I’m adding to my TBR today.
But well before finishing this book, I realized if I was to rate it 3 stars, it’s because I’m rounding up from 2.5. I may reserve the right to change the star-rating later.
Oh, this book. There is perhaps some beautiful writing about refugee trauma, supremacist ideology and the American dream. But most of it seems to be Fifty Shades of Grey marketed towards the Holocaust reader.
Actually, Fifty Shades of Grey may be more tame than this.
Unrelatedly, this book is also fabulist, which is rarely my cup of tea. But in this case, the emotive fingernails in jars and a ghostly relative who pops in and out weren’t the most off-putting part of the story.
This is the story of German refugees in New York City during WWII. Arguably, Herbert is our main character and arguably he’s Jewish (Spivak’s characterization tends to shift towards the vague.) Herbert’s son, Michael, was sent to a concentration camp in a move that apparently saved the rest of the family for some reason. Michael occasionally appears as a ghost to contribute to family angst scenes.
Herbert is also a cousin to a White Russian countess, a woman named Anna, or “the Rat,” whose deformity is explored in increasingly dehumanizing terms. There’s a whole subplot with Rasputin, which good grief. Ana and Christian would blush. The opening chapter sees her smuggled into Herbert at the New York Public Library.
In the present day of the story, Herbert and his son, David, are trying to save people from the Nazis. David works in a basement office intercepting mail, including from his daughter’s Nazi pediatrician, Felix. No one ever seems to put two and two together about what a one-dimensional villain Felix is despite his creepy behavior even when he’s in public. The central plot poses him as a secret Nazi doctor who’s sent amputated body parts from Germany in order to try and Dr. Frankenstein together a master race.
There’s an alarming amount of infantilization of women happening in this book, from the sexual foreplay to the way husbands treat their wives. I first picked up this book for my Page 112 Tag TBR game on BookTube, and I was positive the page in question centered on men looking for their children. Nope. This feels even more squicky when a pedophilia subplot is introduced.
Anywho, after saving Anna “the Rat” from the Nazis, Herbert moves onto the Tolstoi quartet, the men who were looking for their wives on page 112. Unfortunately, these men were so in love with their music that they neglected their wives, and then Nazis cut off their pinky fingers for not playing German nationalist music. Plotlines converge as Herbert, David and Anna center in on saving the pinkies from Felix and reuniting them with their owners.
Beautiful language and half-formed metaphors about intriguing ideas don’t cut it for me when the characters and plot are one-dimensional at best and offensive at worst. What a slog of a read, as if I have time for this. (DNF time, self?) Hopefully, future me will be much more contented with the books I’m adding to my TBR today.
January 13, 2016
"But they were to retain their habits of secrecy."
Certainly, they never seem to let go of their secrecy. Who can blame them? I spent time thinking about this novel after I finished it, days. I imagine it will be hard on some readers not just for the subject matter , particularly the creepy disgusting Doctor preying on children but for it's original style. It is peculiar, strange happenings abound with these characters but the writing is beautiful. There is a lot of story within, and you cannot deny the characters are the fullest incarnation a fictional being can become. The Rat is going to be a favorite among the readers. I could dissect this book for days, and the horrors (this is often dark) don't sit well, but should they? When I first started reading I thought... no... this is too much but then I continued and everything came together. I hated things that happened, it just infuriated me to read about molestation and unable to stop it (I am a mother).
The writing is gorgeous as the author creates clawing and clever sentences... a taste ""Grownups sometimes joked. But they did not exepect you to joke back.:"
"Each week, the ships came into the harbor, disgorging the crippled remains of Europe, already charred, or at least forever marked "Bring me your huddled masses, " Miss Liberty had cried."
"In the darkness, both she and Maria were silent. Maria stared into the room, wondering what "unspeakable things" could cover. She thrilled to the dark inclination of the phrase...."
There is something thrilling about the stories the Rat has tells young Maria in the cover of the night while the house is sleeping. The fury inside of Maria trying to shut out her mother's 'hateful voice' that her mother trusts the evil doctor left me gutted but it also rang true. Children know when something is wrong, but being told they are bad is how those in authority are able to harm children, especially when parents tend to blindly trust those in authority be they doctors, clergy etc... No, it is not easy on the heart. Many of us swear we'd never be so foolish as to trust such an evil person, and yet many do.
There is magical writing, it took me a chapter to get with things, and as I have read many books in this style it was familar to me and I understand what the author is trying to do, even with the horror. There are quite a few European writers that tackle heavy subjects in this style, it is meant to express horrible things and yet take the sting out at the same time.
Heed the warning about child abuse within, but it's so much more than that. It's very hard to review because every reader is going to take something different from it, if nothing else it's going to provoke reactions from every reader. It will be interesting to discuss this with others, and certainly a book group will have interesting conversations and maybe some arguments.
Certainly, they never seem to let go of their secrecy. Who can blame them? I spent time thinking about this novel after I finished it, days. I imagine it will be hard on some readers not just for the subject matter , particularly the creepy disgusting Doctor preying on children but for it's original style. It is peculiar, strange happenings abound with these characters but the writing is beautiful. There is a lot of story within, and you cannot deny the characters are the fullest incarnation a fictional being can become. The Rat is going to be a favorite among the readers. I could dissect this book for days, and the horrors (this is often dark) don't sit well, but should they? When I first started reading I thought... no... this is too much but then I continued and everything came together. I hated things that happened, it just infuriated me to read about molestation and unable to stop it (I am a mother).
The writing is gorgeous as the author creates clawing and clever sentences... a taste ""Grownups sometimes joked. But they did not exepect you to joke back.:"
"Each week, the ships came into the harbor, disgorging the crippled remains of Europe, already charred, or at least forever marked "Bring me your huddled masses, " Miss Liberty had cried."
"In the darkness, both she and Maria were silent. Maria stared into the room, wondering what "unspeakable things" could cover. She thrilled to the dark inclination of the phrase...."
There is something thrilling about the stories the Rat has tells young Maria in the cover of the night while the house is sleeping. The fury inside of Maria trying to shut out her mother's 'hateful voice' that her mother trusts the evil doctor left me gutted but it also rang true. Children know when something is wrong, but being told they are bad is how those in authority are able to harm children, especially when parents tend to blindly trust those in authority be they doctors, clergy etc... No, it is not easy on the heart. Many of us swear we'd never be so foolish as to trust such an evil person, and yet many do.
There is magical writing, it took me a chapter to get with things, and as I have read many books in this style it was familar to me and I understand what the author is trying to do, even with the horror. There are quite a few European writers that tackle heavy subjects in this style, it is meant to express horrible things and yet take the sting out at the same time.
Heed the warning about child abuse within, but it's so much more than that. It's very hard to review because every reader is going to take something different from it, if nothing else it's going to provoke reactions from every reader. It will be interesting to discuss this with others, and certainly a book group will have interesting conversations and maybe some arguments.
February 18, 2016
I love historical fiction, I love subtle magic, I love family history-- this novel had all of that-- except it was strange. Unspeakably strange. I only finished it because I had a morbid fascination for the characters. I cringed, phalanges curled, I rolled my eyes at the word aureole, I bit my lip as I tried to finish this novel.
Some people will like this-- the writing was lovely when referring to the settings and emotions-- about New York, about home, about passion; but overall it wasn't enough. There were no likable characters and no realism. I'm not quite sure if the appendages actually spoke, or if we were supposed to believe the doctor was insane. And the dead brother! Was he murdered? Was he taken? I'm actually not quite sure. All I know is he vicariously lived through his brother as he made love to his wife, and phantomly watched his insane (or so we're led to believe) mother play the piano.
There is also a retelling of The Hunchback of Notre Dame (my boyfriend pointed that out when I explained what I was reading), molested children, a crossdressing, mad scientist pedophile, many games of chess, a dead girl and a real dead brother, and most interestingly, breathing instruments that shared a bed with their musicians.
It was strange. And it'll float around in my head because it was strange, but I didn't like it.
From the first chapter, it could have gone much differently. I would have liked more historical, realistic, fiction.
Some people will like this-- the writing was lovely when referring to the settings and emotions-- about New York, about home, about passion; but overall it wasn't enough. There were no likable characters and no realism. I'm not quite sure if the appendages actually spoke, or if we were supposed to believe the doctor was insane. And the dead brother! Was he murdered? Was he taken? I'm actually not quite sure. All I know is he vicariously lived through his brother as he made love to his wife, and phantomly watched his insane (or so we're led to believe) mother play the piano.
There is also a retelling of The Hunchback of Notre Dame (my boyfriend pointed that out when I explained what I was reading), molested children, a crossdressing, mad scientist pedophile, many games of chess, a dead girl and a real dead brother, and most interestingly, breathing instruments that shared a bed with their musicians.
It was strange. And it'll float around in my head because it was strange, but I didn't like it.
From the first chapter, it could have gone much differently. I would have liked more historical, realistic, fiction.
December 29, 2015
Well, I liked this book a great deal already, maybe even before reaching the first 50 pages, and I felt attached to its setting and characters. It felt certainly very familiar and yet new, and the way it was told was like watching a movie. There is a multitude of characters and stories and they span from north to south, they keep surprising me, but the biggest surprise was the brief encounter between the rat and Rasputin, this made me want to read more about Rasputin as if all these years of hearing about him never made me, and "the good doktor" was another "very" interesting character. I can go on like this and list all the characters this novel tells about, but I feel other readers will be surprised/delighted the same or more than i did.
January 27, 2016
This book is not at all what I was expecting, but I loved it.
It reminded me of Indian literature, where inanimate things almost take on a life of their own, there are hints of alchemy, magic and the supernatural (Midnight's Children comes to mind). And like a lot of Indian literature I have read, I find it almost impossible to say exactly what the book is about.
The characters are interesting, story is intriguing, some scenes are very disturbing, but you have to read on.
I don't think you will feel indifferent about this book, I think you will find it amazing, or you just won't get it.
But I think you will be intrigued by it.
It reminded me of Indian literature, where inanimate things almost take on a life of their own, there are hints of alchemy, magic and the supernatural (Midnight's Children comes to mind). And like a lot of Indian literature I have read, I find it almost impossible to say exactly what the book is about.
The characters are interesting, story is intriguing, some scenes are very disturbing, but you have to read on.
I don't think you will feel indifferent about this book, I think you will find it amazing, or you just won't get it.
But I think you will be intrigued by it.
January 4, 2016
This was a well written book that I would recommend. It takes place during WWII and chronicles the lives of several immigrants trying to make a life in the US. The characters are well fleshed out and have distinct personalities. I was pulled in to the story quickly.
There are a few mini-storylines involved, so the read did get a little confusing at certain parts. It wasn't enough to pull me out by any means.
PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS BOOK INCLUDES SOME SCENES OF CHILD SEXUAL MOLESTATION. ALTHOUGH IT IS NOT GRAPHIC, SOME MAY BE SENSITIVE TO READING THIS TYPE OF MATERIAL.
There are a few mini-storylines involved, so the read did get a little confusing at certain parts. It wasn't enough to pull me out by any means.
PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS BOOK INCLUDES SOME SCENES OF CHILD SEXUAL MOLESTATION. ALTHOUGH IT IS NOT GRAPHIC, SOME MAY BE SENSITIVE TO READING THIS TYPE OF MATERIAL.
March 30, 2016
I do not know how to review this. The writing was exquisite. The concepts mind blowing and executed beautifully. It is a strange and beautiful book. There are moments of grittiness that might not appeal to everyone, but it is woven into a tale so rare and strange, it all seems perfect.
Her writing about music and the Quartet is some of the finest I have ever read, albeit some of the weirdest as well.
READ THIS BOOK.
Her writing about music and the Quartet is some of the finest I have ever read, albeit some of the weirdest as well.
READ THIS BOOK.
January 27, 2016
I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
Holocaust literature is admittedly a difficult read, but Unspeakable Things is not only about the Holocaust. It is about redemption and returning to life after difficult experiences. Written whimsically and graphically, one must read through the difficult passages dealing with abusive sex and child molestation and see what Ms. Spivack is really trying to say: that life goes on, although the light may flicker in dark times.
Holocaust literature is admittedly a difficult read, but Unspeakable Things is not only about the Holocaust. It is about redemption and returning to life after difficult experiences. Written whimsically and graphically, one must read through the difficult passages dealing with abusive sex and child molestation and see what Ms. Spivack is really trying to say: that life goes on, although the light may flicker in dark times.
April 4, 2016
I don't know that I can say anything about this book, except that the writing was so overwrought that I wanted to pluck my eyes out even before the Tolstoi Quartet made its appearance. I have no idea if the magical realism in the book is a euphemism to the actual horror of the Holocaust, I just thought it was a terrible idea. I was glad when I was done with it.
August 29, 2024
Rambling, repetitive, imaginative, self-indulgent, chaotic, repetitive, mystical, and long (though only 304 pages) are just some of the words that came to mind as I read this book.
To me it seemed that the author didn’t know what kind of story she wanted to write. Is it a story of the trials and tribulations of those escaping the holocaust and the atrocities that continued when some of those committing them in Germany were able to slip out? Is it a story about a family trying to survive in the new world? Is it a science fiction story about regeneration? Is it a ghost story centered around a lost family member? Is it a horror story with a New World version of Dr Frankenstein? Is it a story about survivors of child abuse? Is it a romance story of love lost and found again? Is it an erotic fantasy?
To me it seemed that the author had a lot to say and wanted to get it all into one story. The end result comes across as a jumbled set of events which jump around in time and place. Separating these events is long drawn-out prose that, to me, added little to the story and bored me. So much so that 3 chapters into the book I found myself quickly scanning pages to make sure I didn’t miss anything as I tried to hurry through the book. Certain key events, such as why the son Michael was left behind, are never explained. Maybe they were explained in some of those pages I skipped through, but reading other reviews I see that I wasn’t alone.
I understand some of the underlying messages of the horrors of the holocaust, how the effects were not limited to Germany and spread across the globe, and the lasting varied effects that this had on a wide range of people. And I appreciate Spivack’s attempts to weave this into a fictional story that was compelling and interesting enough to read. I just struggled with the writing and wild swings in the directions of the story and the sub-plots and mystical elements and how they all supposedly were interrelated.
Characters in the book include:
- A German/Austrian Nazi pediatrician in New York who is a child molester and womanizer (uses his position to have sex with the children’s mothers) and spends his spare time with his experiments in regenerating and cloning human (and animal) tissue with the end goal of creating a new superior race in the honor of Hitler.
- An intelligent, small, misshapen Russian Countess (through marriage) who ends up as Rasputin’s sex slave for 2 weeks and is forever marked by him both physically, mentally, and spiritually - and spends much of the story having shivers and shakes of supposedly magically or physically induced orgasms
- The family patriarch with some sort of powers, never really explained, that he uses to help others in the new world
- the half crazy and domineering family matriarch who loves the missing son the most, hates her daughter in law, and shows bipolar tendencies
- A ghost of a boy, now an adult ghost, who was left behind so the others could escape (though it is never explained why) and who haunts the memories and presence of the rest of the family
- The other son who works long weeks away from the family in an underground government office in DC basically doing secret decryption and spy work
- The granddaughter who is mentally scarred by the molesting Dr. and ignored by her mother and father – the only person in the story who I actually felt anything for
- A collection of regenerated body parts that come alive, sing, move, and do other many strange things in the kitchen lab and refrigerator of the above mentioned Nazi Dr.
I almost put the book down (or more accurately returned the ebook) several times, but in the end I decided to finish it because I didn’t feel right marking it “Read” in Bookreads if I didn’t actually read the whole thing, and I did want to see where Spivack was going with the story. I was glad I finished and the ending was ok. Actually the 2nd to last chapter redeemed the story enough to give it 2 stars vs 1 (but not quite enough for 3) while the very last chapter was anticlimactic and more like the rest of the book.
And it left me with many questions about what happened to Michael, what was Anne’s motivations for her actions near the end, and others questions I won’t share because they might end up being spoilers.
To me it seemed that the author didn’t know what kind of story she wanted to write. Is it a story of the trials and tribulations of those escaping the holocaust and the atrocities that continued when some of those committing them in Germany were able to slip out? Is it a story about a family trying to survive in the new world? Is it a science fiction story about regeneration? Is it a ghost story centered around a lost family member? Is it a horror story with a New World version of Dr Frankenstein? Is it a story about survivors of child abuse? Is it a romance story of love lost and found again? Is it an erotic fantasy?
To me it seemed that the author had a lot to say and wanted to get it all into one story. The end result comes across as a jumbled set of events which jump around in time and place. Separating these events is long drawn-out prose that, to me, added little to the story and bored me. So much so that 3 chapters into the book I found myself quickly scanning pages to make sure I didn’t miss anything as I tried to hurry through the book. Certain key events, such as why the son Michael was left behind, are never explained. Maybe they were explained in some of those pages I skipped through, but reading other reviews I see that I wasn’t alone.
I understand some of the underlying messages of the horrors of the holocaust, how the effects were not limited to Germany and spread across the globe, and the lasting varied effects that this had on a wide range of people. And I appreciate Spivack’s attempts to weave this into a fictional story that was compelling and interesting enough to read. I just struggled with the writing and wild swings in the directions of the story and the sub-plots and mystical elements and how they all supposedly were interrelated.
Characters in the book include:
- A German/Austrian Nazi pediatrician in New York who is a child molester and womanizer (uses his position to have sex with the children’s mothers) and spends his spare time with his experiments in regenerating and cloning human (and animal) tissue with the end goal of creating a new superior race in the honor of Hitler.
- An intelligent, small, misshapen Russian Countess (through marriage) who ends up as Rasputin’s sex slave for 2 weeks and is forever marked by him both physically, mentally, and spiritually - and spends much of the story having shivers and shakes of supposedly magically or physically induced orgasms
- The family patriarch with some sort of powers, never really explained, that he uses to help others in the new world
- the half crazy and domineering family matriarch who loves the missing son the most, hates her daughter in law, and shows bipolar tendencies
- A ghost of a boy, now an adult ghost, who was left behind so the others could escape (though it is never explained why) and who haunts the memories and presence of the rest of the family
- The other son who works long weeks away from the family in an underground government office in DC basically doing secret decryption and spy work
- The granddaughter who is mentally scarred by the molesting Dr. and ignored by her mother and father – the only person in the story who I actually felt anything for
- A collection of regenerated body parts that come alive, sing, move, and do other many strange things in the kitchen lab and refrigerator of the above mentioned Nazi Dr.
I almost put the book down (or more accurately returned the ebook) several times, but in the end I decided to finish it because I didn’t feel right marking it “Read” in Bookreads if I didn’t actually read the whole thing, and I did want to see where Spivack was going with the story. I was glad I finished and the ending was ok. Actually the 2nd to last chapter redeemed the story enough to give it 2 stars vs 1 (but not quite enough for 3) while the very last chapter was anticlimactic and more like the rest of the book.
And it left me with many questions about what happened to Michael, what was Anne’s motivations for her actions near the end, and others questions I won’t share because they might end up being spoilers.
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