This is an excellent book of short stories I would never otherwise have finished reading, for my “Stories of Exile” workshop coming up at the Yiddish Book Center. It’s beautifully written; the very first paragraph grabs you and shakes you like a terrier shakes a rat. But the content is heartrending at first. The author’s family is forced from their happy little shtetl in Bessarabia (well, happy enough, it’s Eastern Europe and they’re Jewish so how happy can they be?). The families are broken apart, men from women, and exiled to Siberia in one of Stalin’s massive purges. (By the way, it is very interesting to read about a Jewish exile that wasn’t caused by the Holocaust. It's both the same and different.) The writing is beautiful, and the stories are profound, but the author’s pangs of loss are so acute and life in Siberia is so terrible, there is no way I would have continued reading if not for professional reasons. I had to keep recording my page count on Goodreads to cheer myself onward, an extreme step. But eventually the stories lighten up. The character who seems to be the writer comes back to Bessarabia, confronts the loss of her entire village and way of life, goes onto establish a new life in the new Soviet Union, and then finally finds a reasonably happy old age in a second exile, this time in Israel. (Though the characters are, of course, still bitter, fearful, and traumatized despite their wry sense of humor. But in some sense, that’s practically a description of being Jewish anyway.) By the end I enjoyed the book so much that I forgot all about recording my page count on Goodreads.