In 1960s Transylvania where the novel begins, five-year-old Ildiko becomes victim to psychological abuse at the hands of her babysitter, Yutzi, whom she worships and follows everywhere. Though Ildiko’s family immigrates to Israel soon after, Ildiko’s life continues to be shaped by the secret deep within her; not until many years later is Ildiko able to reveal her story. In flashback fashion, she recounts her horror to her worried husband, who at the novel’s start is nearly hysterical with worry about a recent mysterious and possibly violent incident. Only as Ildiko’s story unfolds—and with it the parallel stories of her family and her husband—do readers come to understand what has taken place and how Ildiko’s story has come full circle. This psychological thriller focuses on family relationships and the aftermath of childhood trauma, and although not a novel specifically of the Holocaust, the narrative is driven by characters whose lives were shaped by it, so much so that those events become a silent character in the book.
Suzane Adam moved to Israel at age ten. She received undergraduate degrees in medieval art, photography, and etching and later went on to study graphic arts and multimedia. In addition to teaching art and creative thinking, image consulting, and computerized commercial presentation, she has worked as an illustrator and invented games for one of Israel's largest toy firms.
Adam began writing seriously in 1996. Her 2004 novel Janis's Mother was awarded the the Kugel Prize in 2006. Her fiction has been translated in German and English.
סיפורה של אישה צעירה, שיום אחד מסתגרת בתוך עצמה. לאחר עידוד היא מתחילה לספר את קורות חיה החל מגיל 5 ועד להווה. בסיפור היא משחזרת אירועים שמלווים אותה מילדותה ועדין משפיעים על חייה השפעה ניכרת. סוד הספר הוא החשיפה האיטית של מארג החיים של הדמויות. אפילו את שמה הפרטי של המספרת הקורא לא יודע והיא חושפת את הפרט האינטימי הזה רק לאחר שכבר הקורא התוודע ונכרך אחר קורותיה. הסיפור מלווה בעוד קול, קול של דמות גברית, שגם המקום שלו במארג מסתבר ככל שהספר מתקדם. ההתחלה קשה. עד עמ´ 100 בערך (שם מסתיים בערך הסיפור של העבר וקיימת התקרבות אל ההווה) התחושה היא של כבדות עמומה. הסיפור קשה לעיכול וכל ניסיון לגרוס אותו מבלי לתת לכל פרט את תשומת הלב הראויה, לא יצלח. כבמטה קסמים היא מהפנטת את הקורא שלא יכול להניח את הספר מידיו גם ברגעים הקשים של הסיפור. ואז מגיעה הרווחה. היא משחררת את הקורא. תחושות סותרות הציפו אותי בזמן הקריאה : גועל, שמחה, אמפטיה, הזדהות, כולן בו זמנית בלי יכולת להבחין. פתאום כמו יד שמשחררת את הפרפר הקורא מרגיש חופשי לרוץ עם השורות ולהתקדם אל הסוף המיוחל, אבל אז, מסתבר שבעצם אין כאן סיפור אחד אלא דמויות שונות עם סיפורים שונים שפועלים במקביל. היקומים מתאחדים למציאות כמעט בלתי אפשרית עד הסוף הבלתי נמנע. אני בכוונה לא חושפת פרטים כדי לא להרוס את חווית הקריאה בפעם הראשונה. מאוד סבלתי בהתחלה. מאוד נהנתי בסוף. העושר הסיפורי, החוויות שמקבלות אישושים מצדדים בלתי צפויים, הספקות המחלחלים. נהדר. מומלץ בחום.
Laundry (translated from Hebrew) is told from the first-person POV of two narrators in 1970s Israel: Ephraim, the primary voice, and his wife Ildiko née Rott, who relates to him the story of her lonely, fearful childhood and the mental and physical abuse she experienced at the hands of Yutzi.
The book opens in an emotional whirlwind: Ephraim is confused, frightened, and deeply agitated by a recent, possibly violent, catastrophe involving Ildiko, who at first retreated into herself and is now finally ready to spill out the secrets of her past. Her family has no idea why what happened has happened. To them, twenty years ago in their native Transylvania, Yutzi had found five-year-old Ildiko wandering around after having been lost for three hours. Since then, Yutzi (whose troubled home life included a morbidly obese, immobile mother and two violent, controlling brothers) has been an adopted daughter of sorts, with whom Ildiko's mother has maintained correspondence ever since the family's move to Israel when Ildiko was eight. Tiny, trusting Ildiko had idolized seventeen-year-old Yutzi as a beautiful older girl and followed her incessantly. In retaliation, Yutzi took her to the slaughterhouse where she worked. There, Ildiko witnesses the butchering of calves and the grotesque assembly of sausages, recalled with a vivid surrealism. Before taking her home, Yutzi threatens to "rip your guts out." Though sweet and gracious to Ildiko's parents and baby sister (even as she secretly steals from them), Yutzi continues to emotionally torment Ildiko behind their backs, culminating in attempted murder.
Throughout her childhood, Ildiko's family will wonder at her withdrawn nature and frequent illnesses that only vanish when they leave Romania for good. When telling Ildiko's story to Mrs. Rott, Ephraim's reward is yet another long-buried secret: Mr. and Mrs. Rott's own survival of the Holocaust. Laundry is ultimately a novel of silence buried in silence. In the Rott family, no one talks and the effect is similar to Freud's social theories on repression. Specifically: that the more of it you exercise, the greater the inevitable release of suppressed feelings, drives, and instincts. As in much Israeli literature, the Holocaust lurks as an omnipresent force that continues to shape the lives of the characters in the present. After all, Ildiko learned the principles of silence from somewhere.
Laundry is also a tale of female violence. I once read a critique of fiction's tendency "explain" a woman's aggressiveness by giving her a victimized past. Yutzi has indeed been victimized, but at the same time, Adam makes it quite clear that that is not the source of her twisted nature. Shirley Jackson once said that "some houses are born bad," and you can obviously say the same of humans. But what made Laundry so different (to me, anyway) was its oddly feminine approach to violence and abuse. Ildiko had seen Yutzi as role model, a kind of like a real-life fairy princess. Despite her psychopathic personality, however, Yutzi, as a young woman, is also rendered powerless by society and is herself a casualty of male abuse. Although she is doubtlessly one of the most unsympathetic characters I have ever come across in fiction (up there with Dolores Umbridge), I think Yutzi will force most readers to reconsider their notions of women as being the inherently "more moral" sex. I remember reading an article about Pfc. Lynndie England that mentioned how shocked people were that a woman could be responsible for such horrific behavior. But really, the article went on to say, when you deny that women can be brutal you also deny that they are fully human, with all of humanity's highs and lows. Victimizing others is arguably a part of human nature, a point often made in discussions about the Holocaust. Laundry is above all a powerfully human tale that explores the relationships between people and how they can be formed and deformed by trauma. It certainly makes for uncomfortable reading. This is the kind of book that haunts you.
This a book about a woman who grows up in Transylvania, with a mild case of epilepsy. The start of the book hints at something gone wrong but all we have is an almost catatonic woman hugging herself on a couch.
Then she decides to share her story with her bewildered husband, and we learn of events in her childhood and her family dynamics that have shaped her character all through life in Transylvania to life in Israel where her family moved when she was about 8 years old.
It's hard to review this without giving too much away, but I think I'll have to just say that it's a good look at how things can remain hidden, even in families who think that they share everything and have close bonds.
I really liked this even though there were a few points in the book that disturbed me. All in all, I'd have to give this 4 stars because after the first quarter of the book, I was reluctant to put it down...... and I know I may be in the minority, but I did like the way it ended.
A quiet but moving story--not sure how to sum it up in a few lines. A woman tells her life story--including her secret childhood trauma--to her concerned husband after she is involved in a crime. Through bits of other characters' stories and their interactions with the husband, the full story is gradually pieced together.
I couldn't put this book down. From the beginning the reader is immersed in questions, just as the narrator is, trying to find out for himself what's happened. This is a story of memory and violence, and how the past catches up to us; a personal story that connects us to the terror of the Holocaust.
Wonderful book--I highly recommend it, with the disclaimer that the translator is a good friend of mine. The story is suspenseful but never manipulative: your classic gripping tale, with themes of memory and diaspora woven in masterfully.
Been five days and I forget what it was about! Actually an interesting post holocaust book which illustrated a rather long vignette drawn from the life of a woman severely affected by early childhood experience.