Queen of the Jews by NL Herzenberg (Philistine Press, 2016) is a novel written under a pen name, and all we know about the author is that she (he?) is a “widely published American author.” But based on certain qualities, I have a suspicion that the author may not be American born. What qualities am I talking about? I have noticed that most contemporary American writers, and in fact, Western writers in general, have become so entrenched in their identities, that they can no longer create convincing characters, especially when the character is the Other. If the writer is a woman, she may create interesting female characters, but the men look like shadows; if the writer is a man, the interesting characters are male. And if the conflict or intrigue forces us to take sides, you can be sure that female readers will take the side of the woman; the men, on the other hand, will be split, depending on their political allegiance and whether they want to show that they are “allies.” Gone are the days when a male writer could say, “Madame Bovary c’est moi!” But can you even imagine an American female writer say, “Monsieur So-and-So c’est moi!” (I am not saying “Monsieur Bovary” because, frankly, who would want to be him?) I am generalizing, of course, but the trend is obvious.
I began with this parenthesis because Queen of the Jews is one of those rare contemporary novels that depict a love story whose protagonists are very convincing in their contrasting male and female attributes, all the more so since their otherness is enhanced by the fact that the male is Palestinian and the female Jewish-American. The woman, Galia, a writer who is remodeling her home, falls in love with one of the construction workers, Alejandro, whom she believes to be a former marine biologist from Mexico, but turns out to be a Palestinian. And it turns out that this Palestinian refugee--who wants nothing more than to have a normal life by acquiring a coveted green card--has been secretly hired by a pro-Palestinian American professor (the “Mastermind”) who is convinced that Galia, who publishes online excerpts from her Hasmonean Chronicle, wants to undermine the Palestinians’ claim to a homeland. The novel (first published in 2015) is a great workshop in the current Israel-Palestine conflict, or rather, in the response to it of many American intellectuals: while the Palestinian man would like to live a normal life and be left alone, the two Americans, the pro-Palestinian professor and the Jewish woman, have created a fictional character in their minds: for the professor, he is a tool in pursuit of Social Justice; for the woman, he is a mysterious Other, uncultivated like a rough diamond, but a diamond nonetheless.
Structurally, the novel keeps shifting between the present—the contemporary love story of Alejandro and Galia—and the past (the antiquity and the Hasmonean dynasty), moving slowly toward the unexpected climax. Well written and researched, this is a very topical and useful reading for the current times.