Moishe is an exiled orthodox Jew living in Montreal. He remembers the pogroms in his native Russia. Widowed, he fled his village with his son and his pregnant daughter-in-law. They travelled east to Vladivostok, then sailed to San Francisco before arriving in Montreal. Aaron was born on the way with his mother and father dying soon after his birth. Moishe now works as a tailor, sewing late into the night. He studies the Talmud and the Torah in his spare time, trying to raise Aaron to do the same. It doesn't work. Inevitably, Aaron leaves him. A friend comes to comfort Moishe but the novel closes with Moishe crying into the night that God is not listening anymore.
In 1954, when Aaron was first published by French Canadian writer Yves Thériault, Québec (pronounced KEH-beck, not kwebec BTW) was still wrapped in the Grande Noirceur (the Great Darkness). The Catholic Church's rule over our lives was drawing to an overdue end. Intellectuals had always secretly defied the ecclesiastical authorities by reading banned books. My own grandfather read both Hitler's Mein Kampf (to figure out what Germany was doing, not because he agreed with it!) and Leon Trotsky's History of the Russian Revolution. In the 1950s however, young French Canadian intellectuals wanted to tell their countrymen about the rest of the world and the audience was receptive. Even in this context, this novel is a surprise. Thériault was living in Europe when he wrote this novel but he chose to write about an alien in our own back yard, an orthodox Jew living in Montreal.
It's hard for any reader not to feel sympathy for Moishe. He worked hard and selflessly. He cared for his family while the world was conspiring against him and his culture. Finally, when the troubles are over, with Moishe and Aaron safely settled in a free country, the grandson rejects his cultural heritage and refuses to speak Yiddish or Hebrew. How could a Québec audience, a people who were beginning to feel a need to keep their French language from being overwhelmed by an English speaking North America, fail to understand the depth of Moishe's despair? And feeling that empathy, how could they not accept that there were worlds and peoples beyond their own borders?
Yves Thériault's Aaron is one of Québec's great unsung novels.
Overall not so bad. I think the story lacked a true purpose apart from the obvious theological and biblical references (particularly the Old Testament). I liked the depiction of the Montreal Jewish community, as I do believe the author backed his depictions on actual conversations and experiences with Jewish people! It’s not a must-read, but can definitely be a good read and a refreshing one aswell!