Her First American

by Lore Segal

She's Ilka Weissnix, a young Jewish refugee from Hitler's Europe, newly arrived in the United States. He's Carter Bayoux, her first a middle-aged, hard-drinking black intellectual. Lore Segal's brilliant novel is the story of their love affair―one of the funniest and saddest in modern fiction.

Genres: Fiction, Historical Fiction, Literary Fiction, American, Romance, Novels, Race

304 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1985

About the author

Lore Vailer Segal was an Austrian-American novelist, translator, teacher, short story writer, and author of children's books. Her novel Shakespeare's Kitchen was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize in 2008.

Reviews

[Violeta · Rating 5 out of 5]

She, Ilka Weissnix: Jewish, Austrian, Young, Refugee, Greenhorn, Survivor.
He, Carter Bayoux: Black, American, Middle-aged, Intellectual, Cynical.
Tags, labels, categorizations.
What defines us most? Which one should be mentioned first? What does it say about me if I put one before the other? What does it say about the person who carries them? Can we exist, can we bear to exist, without our labels, be they of our own construction or imposed by the structure of the society we live in?

Ilka and Carter’s paths cross somewhere in the heartland of 1950s America, the “real America”, and become a couple in New York, which “is not the real America”, but the perennial go-to place for people running away from their indignities – those that others inflicted on them and those that they themselves fabricated.

"Very sensible of you to get born right away in America” Ilka said. “Think of all the time you saved not queuing in consulates, waiting for quota numbers, alien cards, affidavits, sponsors, visas, permits.”

Ilka is a 21-year-old WWII refugee fresh off the boat, after years of wandering around Europe, bereft of home and family. She’s determined to find both as much as she’s determined to preserve a clear vision of America. She finds Carter, an older, experienced and cynical black intellectual. In order to understand her new country and new love, she throws herself into his world, nurses him through his depression and alcoholism but soon finds herself having to decide between his (unlikely) salvation and that of her own future.

Published in 1985, a time that themes of mixed-race-relationships weren’t all the rage, this book is a sharp, uncritical and compassionate account of a love story that is equally beautiful and ugly, same as its protagonists, same as all people really, regardless of their labels.

It’s a book about losses and traumas, all kinds of losses and all kinds of traumas, and how one might or might not survive them and move on, given that one is fortunate enough to have a choice. It’s a book about prejudices, stereotypes and deliberate misconceptions.
About how we barricade ourselves behind labels because it’s a defense and an absolution to attribute all our plights to those labels than to the dark places we carry within. It’s a book about communication, how difficult it is and how we desperately search for ways to make it happen, through protocol, procedures, regulations, declarations…all rather futile because we almost always prefer to turn against each other, lest we have to turn against ourselves.

Ultimately, I think it’s a book about survival and how above and beyond all classifications, there are really only two kinds of people: those who can help themselves and move on and those who can’t and don’t – because no one can really do it for them despite one’s best intentions.

I really liked Segal’s prose and I don’t know why she’s not mentioned more often in the literary world. I discovered her from a New Yorker podcast that was the opening passages of this book and had appeared as a story in the magazine a couple of years before its publication.
https://www.newyorker.com/podcast/fic...

She didn’t emotionally biased me with unnecessary sentimentality. She possesses the humor, the unflinching eye and the compassion of someone who once was a newcomer herself and managed to make a home of the new country she was given. She pays the proper respect to the American melting-pot that accepted her, subtly pointing out the vital need for such a place to exist, if only as an idea that must at all costs be protected, despite its unavoidable all-too-human imperfections.

Fishgoppel said, “Jews care enough about their children to give them an education.” Ebony said, “Negroes were lynched if they learned the alphabet.” “We had pogroms”, said Fishgoppel “Slavery”, said Ebony “Holocaust”, cried Fishgoppel “Aren’t there no griefs that aren’t racist or antisemetic?”, shouted Ilka “Like what?”, said Fishgoppel and Ebony, turning their agitated faces against Ilka. “Old age?”, Ilka said…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=En3Sm...

[Ayelet Waldman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Lore Segal is my absolute favorite writer of the year. This book is so full of stuff, so packed with wonderful insights and people.

[Claire Fuller · Rating 4 out of 5]

Well, this is an odd (but good) one: Her First American by Lore Segal. First published in 1985 I listened to the audio version narrated by Casey Holloway. It has a very distinctive prose style where events happen often without any introduction and people make phone calls over and over. You’re either going to love it or hate it. Viennese Jew, Ilka Weissnix comes to America just after the end of the Second World War. She barely speaks English when she starts a relationship with Carter Bayoux a much older Black man. Dealing with survival, prejudice, immigration, alcoholism, and race, this is a funny, tragic and provocative novel. Recommended. #clairesbooksatbreakfast

[Stacy · Rating 1 out of 5]

I didn't actually finish this book. I just couldn't get through it. The first 20-30 pages or so were interesting enough, but once the main character meets her "first American" the story instantly becomes difficult to follow. Events keep happening with no explanation, the main character seems to have no personality/likes/dislikes of her own, the author keeps introducing new characters & new ideas but then doesn't develop them & the story keeps going off on strange tangents. For example, the main character accompanies her "first American" to a wedding where the "first American" gets extremely drunk, makes the groom cry, and makes a fool of himself. The main character meets someone else at the wedding that she wants to talk to, especially because she is annoyed with her drunk friend, but she leaves with the drunk friend when told to do so & forgets about the guy at the party. She accompanies drunk friend to dinner, which doesn't actually happen, and has a terrible night. Yet, when he contacts her again, she's excited and goes out with him again. It just seems too forced & not a natural read. This is only the 3rd book--EVER--that I have started and not finished.

[Kate O'Shea · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ilka Weissnix has emigrated to the US from post-war Austria, not knowing where her mother or father are. She lands in New York and lives with a distant relation - Fishgoppel - while she gets her life together.

Fishgoppel tells Ilka that New York is not the real America and encourages her to travel by train. However, at her first stop Ilka ends up meeting the charismatic Carter Bayoux, who is a diplomat, a writer, a raconteur and he knows everyone.

The story follows Ilka and Carter's relationship where she meets more strange and larger than life characters as she tries to find a place for herself and her mother in the US.

Whilst there were parts I did find interesting, I'm afraid this just wasn't my taste. The only bit I found really amusing was during Ilka's naturalisation process where the wording of her pledge to her new country keeps on bothering her.

Otherwise I found it a little confusing and I didnt really take to any of the characters, except perhaps Brunetta. It is not the book at faukt, it was my misplaced expectation of what I would be reading.

As always, these thoughts are my own and I would prefer anyone read the book themselves than take my dislike as gospel. You may find it a gem as so many others have.

Thankyou to Netgalley and The New Press for the advance review copy.

[Bill Silva · Rating 4 out of 5]

Published in the 1980s and set mostly in early 1950s New York, the novel is both comical and profoundly sad, not shy about both indulging in and shattering stereotypes and prejudices across the board, and as distinctive a story as anything I’ve recently read. Some will be offended, perhaps, but the narrative voice is completely entertaining, and the provocation is intentional. It made me think and it made me laugh, which isn’t a bad combination.

[Shannon Frizzell · Rating 3 out of 5]

I suppose if I find the character unlikable that isn't actually grounds for a lower rating for a book. Maybe it means the author made me feel something, and that is the goal of an author. However, I found Ilka annoying and Carter infuriating. What is a 21 year old "new" American doing dating a 40+ yo drunk? Do better Ilka! And get it together Carter, you're wasting your intelligence and life. Hard to read this trainwreck.

[Marc Gerstein · Rating 2 out of 5]

Fascinating characters (Ilka Weissnix, a 21-year old refugee from post WWII Europe newly arrived in New York City, and Carter Bayoux, a presumably 50-something black well known writer/political commentator) and a fascinating setup (Ilka and Carter meet in a bar in the rural West as Ilka, soon after reaching NY, travels to meet genuine Americans and wind up in a relationship) should make for a five-star novel and many have rated it just that way. But for me, I thought what the author delivered fell far short of what could have been.

We know from the novel that Ilka wants to fit into her new country and can give her high fives for her persistence in dealing with various challenges and awkward situations to get there. We also know that Carter is in a decline.But its hard to extract much more as the novel stays on the surface going from dialogue to dialogue, episode to episode, with negligible at best drill down into how the characters got to where they were when we meet them.

It appears the author wants us to see challenges regarding acceptance and assimilation. But I’m not really feeling it here.

Considering what Ilka has been through in Europe, she seems remarkably non-traumatized. She was a child of the Holocaust and Word War II who gets to the US thanks to an ever-supportive cousin and with no idea if either of har parents are alive. Yet the most angst she shows is framing correct English sentences and understanding Carter’s obsessive reliance on slang and idioms (one would think a person as educated as he would know better given Ilka’s being new to the language, but oh well . . . ). Yet as the novel progresses, I do see some assimilation issues as Ilka shows herself more willing than her cousin to put her European Jewishness on the back burner and go all in on being American — but with only one minor episode of reflection near the end.

As to Carter, we’re supposed to see him as being a victim of racism. At least that’s what Lore Segal tries to tell us through various monologues and quips by Carter. But to me, that theme was completely swamped by Segal’s having chosen to also make Carter a roaring drunk (one who is not worthy of the more sensitive label “alcoholic” or “alcohol abuser;” an old fashioned pre-pc-era “drunk,” “lush,” “boozehound,” etc.). While racism prevented many from reaching their potential, that played zero role in Carter’s decline. Anybody who drinks the way he does has to fail, no matter what his or her race, nationality, gender, religion, sexual orientation, etc. (And I don’t for a minute buy the notion that racism made him drink; other black characters in this novel weren’t drunks, and history, even as of the time Segal wrote, gives us more than enough people in Carter’s position who weren’t drunks.)

It’s a shame Segal chose to make Carter a lush. Had he been a normal drinker, or even one with a moderate tendency to drown sorrows, he could have delivered a powerful message. Being black, and favoring the militant views that were just starting to emerge at the time, Segal had ample opportunity to show Carter as a victim of skin color. I have no idea why she felt a need to have him hit the bottle so hard that he can only be viewed as an equal-opportunity failure.

As a result of this, and other novels I’ve read, I think I need to propose a revision to the First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, something like this: “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances — however nothing contained herein or in any other portion of this Constitution shall restrain Congress or any other branch of Federal, State or Local government from enacting legislation or regulation prohibiting writers of fictional works from presenting alcoholic protagonists, such restraints being highly desirable to protect the reading public from extreme boredom and/or exposure to needlessly one-dimensional characters.”

[Ian Mond]

I typically write these reviews a couple of days after I’ve read the book (there are exceptions to this, mostly due to laziness). But with Her First American, I’ve deliberately held back. I wanted to let the book stew in my brain before I put any thoughts down, and I think I’ve stewed enough.

The short version is that I did enjoy this book. It’s very funny (a caustic sort of humour), thoughtful and provocative—all the things I love in fiction. And yet, I never felt fully in tune with the novel. In reflecting on why, I think my issue is one of structure, but before I get to that, let me tell you what it’s about.

The title is also the plot. The “Her” is Ilka Weissnix, a Viennese Jew who has arrived in America (New York, of course) following the Second World War. Her father is presumed dead; her mother is missing (though she will later turn up in a Kibbutz in the newly formed State of Israel). Ilka is staying with one of her American cousins (who is only ever referred to by her eye-popping surname: Fishgoppel). The “First American” is Carter Bayoux, literally, the first American, who isn’t Fishgoppel, that Ilka meets. He’s a much older black man, an academic, a journalist, but also an alcoholic who, when he’s in New York, rents a room in a hotel. The novel charts their unconventional love affair.

First, the positives, of which there are many. The dialogue is magnificent. Every conversation between Ilka and Carter and everyone Ilka meets pops. It’s not just the wit; it’s how what’s said enlivens and fleshes out each character (even the secondary cast, like the wonderful Ebony). Carter is a remarkable creation. I say this knowing that cultural appropriation is a thing and that people of colour have been mistreated in literature for generations. But Carter is not a stereotype. He is intelligent. He is a drinker. He is obnoxious. He is generous. He is hated by some and loved by others. Demons beset him. He cannot be reduced to a single sentence or even a paragraph. That he’s the product of a European Jew’s imagination is, in my view, astounding. Ilka is also terrific, although Segal is on familiar ground here. Her life story doesn’t entirely match her protagonists (for one, her family left Vienna on the eve of War and ultimately interned on the Isle of Man), but she’s still a wonderful, vibrant, always curious and passionate person. The chemistry between her and Carter fizzes with an energy that’s bright and intense but also unstable.

As much as I loved the characters, I could never get into the flow of the novel. The book's first third is very bitty, with each chapter treated like a set piece. It’s not until we get to the section called “Summer” about halfway through the novel, where Ilka holidays with Carter and his friends in Connecticut, that the book starts to cohere, that I began to fall into the story. The last third, though, is much like the first. Short chapters, skipping between set-pieces, some more powerful than others, like the shortish section where Ilka goes to Vienna with her mother.

Here’s the thing: I know if I reread the novel, I would love it; I would find the bittiness a strength, not a flaw. This is one book where I wished I had more time to do a second read (I’m always astounded by those who do second reads straight after the first, especially critics). I hope I get that chance.

[Áine Ruth · Rating 4 out of 5]

I enjoyed this novel immensely. The relationships between Carter and Ilka and his friends and family and acquaintances…. They felt so deep and nuanced. Segal’s writing style is simple but arresting, and the dialogue and events that pass by rapidly, often with minimal detail or commentary, tell a greater story of racial injustice and tension. It was a joy to read. I loved Carter too, in spite of his demons.

[Hilary · Rating 2 out of 5]

I feel like I didn't get this book. I know it was about race relations, and I even got the double entendre about Ilka's last name, but I still don't think I understood the various undercurrents in the book. (For example, was the Ebony character constantly feeling downtrodden, or was she sweet?) Maybe if someone had read it aloud so I could hear the tones of voice, I would have liked it better.

[Erika Dreifus · Rating 5 out of 5]

Picked this one up for an online book club (which I neglected to register for, and now it's sold out!). But I'm so glad that I read it, and I'll hope for a recording of the discussion that I'll miss.

[Shona_reads_in_Devon · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book was mostly a flop for me. The ideas that it flirted with were interesting but I don't feel like they were explored in any deep or productive way.

The writing style largely got in the way for me. The staccato style did a great job of reflecting the hectic and chaotic environment of New York at the time and if the writing style was an attempt to leave the reader as dumbfounded about social mores of 1950s New York as the main character, it succeeded in spades, but left little space for an actual reading enjoyment.

There were moments of humour, and towards the end I started to feel some empathy but the writing really prevented me from feeling connected to anyone in a meaningful way and where I came across really incisive and intelligent reflections on race relations it was quickly subsumed within the chaotic writing and never thought of again.

I'm not a stupid reader, but this book made me feel like I didn't 'get' it but I'm in great company because everyone in my book club felt the same, so that's something at least!

[Brad Erickson · Rating 3 out of 5]

There were some very funny moments in this novel but unfortunately they were either early on or late in the book with a lot of back and forth reparte in the middle that really never went anywhere. I’ll give it 3.5 stars.

[Dee Turner · Rating 5 out of 5]

The author was born in 1928 and was about the same age as when her protagonist, Ilka, arrives in America at 21. At the end of the novel, a group of black women and men eulogizing her deceased lover are concerned she'll exploit him--by writing a book about him. I wonder how much of this book is very nearly a memoir.
Published in 1985, the book arrived many years after her fictional lover, Carter Bayoux, had died of acute alcoholism. (It was first published as a series of short stories in The New Yorker magazine.)

The characters in this book are so real, and the lessons to be learned so many, that I made notes of half the text. I was surprised that Amazon let me download half of them.

Ilka arrives in America some years after the end of WWII, in the 1950s, having been shopped around Europe as a refugee & losing track of her parents as a child. A cousin has found her and sent her a ticket--this woman will be her first contact in the US and her home will be Ilka's, although we never learn the woman's first name. She is merely Fishgoppel, throughout. Ilka and Fishgoppel are Jewish (it's hilarious that Fishgoppel presumes throughout that Ilka and her family speak Yiddish, although they never did); Ilka suspects her parents may be dead, but she continues to search. In NYC, she is told that New York is NOT the real America, so she boards a train to what she believes will be Utah as the very middle of the U.S.--but lands in Nevada, instead. (She will persist in her belief that Nevada is Utah for a number of years.). Ilka is a naïf, but an intrepid one.

At a nowhere bar in a grimy waystation where the train has dropped her off, Ilka makes her first mistake by ordering-- coffee, giving the bartender fits. A big man sitting at the bar informs her that ordering coffee in a bar is a faux pas, and he orders a watered down White Russian to start her on alcohol, when Ilka tells him she doesn't indulge. A few pointed stares from other customers later, she and the man agree to leave together. Sort of.

"The man on the stool had smoked his cigarette down to a nubbin. He said, “We leave separately.” “Excuse me?”
“Get up. Go out the door, walk to Main Street, and wait for me.” “But,” said Ilka, “I can wait in here.” The man was patting his two trouser pockets, his right and left jacket pocket; he located his wallet. Was it that his neck had thickened, or shortened? Or withdrawn into his shoulders? Had the ears retracted? The head and shoulders had streamlined as if an outside pressure, failing to eliminate his person, had compacted it and reduced the size without affecting the bulk. He looked like a high-caliber torpedo. Ilka saw what she saw and stored it away in the back of her mind. She said, “Yes, so, then, I wait corner Main Street,” and rose. He did not raise his head; he was busy with the wallet. “We are not all white” was what Ilka thought one of the men inside the booth had said and she stopped, and looked...It was Ilka to whom he was talking...The other, younger man, and the barman, too, were looking at Ilka. She said, “I am new in America. I cannot yet so well understand.” The man looked her straight in the eye and, enunciating very clearly, said it again: “We are not all white.” Ilka smiled. She shook her head. She didn’t understand." We'll be about halfway through the book before she comes to understand that Carter Bayoux is, indeed, a black man.

"That first evening, "Ilka felt excited and hilarious: on both thronging sidewalks everyone was male and young. “I believe you have conjured this all, isn’t it?” “I have conjured,” said the big American, looking at her. Then he looked deliberately across the street and back at Ilka, and said, “YOU AND I STAND HERE, SIDE BY SIDE, BUT I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE HELL YOU’RE SEEING.' ” [emphasis added]

Once they meet outside, Ilka finds the night delightful. But the man "kept a slice of the night air between them." Later, he gives her his address in NYC, but then he doesn't call. When he finally does, she's grateful. He offers her dinner but asks that she meet him at his hotel instead of meeting her at Fishgoppel's.

Later, at a wedding party as a first date, Ilka discovers that the Carter Bayoux is SOMEBODY. "'It’s Professor Bayoux!” a shrill, childish voice called out. A plump girl with blue-framed glasses and sweet, moist skin pressed around Ilka through an open door into the kitchen, where Carter Bayoux sat on the edge of the sink. He said, “Susan Goldshine, as I live and breathe!” “That’s Carter Bayoux!” the young man said to Ilka.
“Who is Carter Bayoux?” Ilka asked him. The young man said, “Didn’t you come with him?” “Yes,” said Ilka. “Who is he?' ”

He's a newspaper reporter who covers the U.N. and even has a desk in the pressroom there. He's a world traveler. He's published books. He's highly revered in the circles of black academia. He's also an alcoholic. "He lifted his bottle by its short neck as if to toast the plump girl and said, “I’ll teach you how to drink good Scotch.” The girl, whose back was to Ilka, raised her forefinger and said, “Maybe some people don’t like to drink! Is that a sin?” “No, my girl, a bore,” Carter Bayoux said..."

Both Ilka and Carter Bayoux are discriminated against: her by anti-semitism, which is ever present but sotto voce at this time, and him by racism, which is clearly obvious and unavoidable. "“Are you anti-Semitish?” Ilka surprised herself by asking. “Of course,” said Carter Bayoux. “Aren’t you?” “I am a Jew,” said Ilka. “Then you know more Jews you cannot stand, no? Just as I’m anti more Negroes. A matter of one’s opportunity.” He is a Negro! Ilka thought. Or does that mean he isn’t ...? “You think I am anti-Negroes?” Ilka marveled. “Of course." (Later, when Ilka decides that she IS a racist, he tells her not to worry, all his best friends are, too.)

"“Bayoux,” pondered Fishgoppel. “Did his family came via France?” “Africa. He says he is Negro.” Ilka watched Fishgoppel’s face. Fishgoppel said, “How do you mean Negro?” and she blanched. “He’s not Jewish!” Fishgoppel wailed."

Sometimes he calls, more often he doesn't. There are times when he ignores her calls; at other times he demands she come to his place, when he is falling down sick with drink. Occasionally, she tries to leave him to it, but then she is haunted by guilt, imagining herself on trial for his negligent homicide:
"(And it did not occur to you that he might be ill? asked the prosecutor of a future court, convening inside Ilka's head, to try her in the death of Carter Bayoux on the bathroom floor of his suite in the Hotel Bloomsbury Arms while she, Ilonka Weissnix, had sat in his bathroom and done nothing to prevent it. "I worried about it," Ilka was going to reply. Prosecutor: "Did you knock on the door? Did you call to ask him if he needed help?"Ilka: "One doesn't call a man one hardly knows inside his bathroom." "Did you call down to the desk?" "I kept thinking how embarrassing if he turned out to be alright." Prosecutor: "Are you telling this court that you chose to risk a man's life rather than embarrass yourself?" Ilka: "Yes." The toilet flushed. He was perfectly alright."

Of course, they eventually become lovers. Segal's descriptions not only vividly capture mood: "He kept a slice of the night air between them," but also accurately and hilariously describes life's little peccadillos: "Carter's sleeping breath forced an opening between his lips and popped out like a necklace of little farts."

Ilka is often put off by Carter; she has brief flashes of distaste. "Ilka watched Carter Bayoux' massive back; she observed how the fold of the back of his neck bulged over the collar of his sports jacket and decided she must go out and see other people." Not only is he set in his ways and an alcoholic in steep decline, but he is well into his 50s--more than 30 years her senior. Yet she is enamored with the idea of being in love and mistakes that for the real thing, although she learns a great deal from him. He has an uncanny sense of humor that sharply and clearly punctuates reality. He takes her to Carnegie Hall to hear Billie Holiday sing "Strange Fruit." He takes her backstage to meet her, and Ilka sees at firsthand the damage and suffering caused by heroin addiction.

The book shows that black people are educated, articulate, and fully aware of their place in a racist society. They reveal both their frustrations and humor in ways not often so accurately depicted by white authors. Ilka's own realizations come far more slowly: "In the gray light that seeped between and around the curtains, Ilka studied the sleep-swollen lips and wooly hair of the sleeping head of--Ilka saw it for the first time--a Negro." "Ilka asked Carter, "what will happen to us? Will we end up badly?" "Of course, said Carter." For some reason, Ilka is thrilled by this. At one point as he's taking her to D.C., he says that his first wife was white and when they married right out of high school, they chickened out of living together and went each to their separate family home. "Ilka did not understand that Carter meant that they would stay in separate hotels."

When Carter informs her that a group of light-skinned people she's been wondering about are Puerto Ricans, she realizes that once she sees them as a group, she is thereafter less able to see them as individuals. This is a sad and ineluctable truth.

They daydream of being married. While he's perusing rental ads and meandering on about whether they'd like a breakfast nook and how many bedrooms, she sees a homeless man with dirt deeply embedded in his skin. She tries to draw Carter's attention to the man, asking him how many years must it take to have that much dirt in their skin but he stops her abruptly, "...I don't want to look. How far, do you think, am I from that man?' "

"Ilka reported to Carter. She said, "Carl [who will marry and give Ilka children after Carter dies] says the Negro and the Jew have a parallel experience."
Carter said, "Yes, indeedy: parallels are two lines that run side by side and never meet except in infinity."

Along the way please find my very favorite character, Ebony, who teaches 5th grade American history. She avers that white settlers in the Great Plains had three problems: 1) keeping cattle in one place, 2) keeping Indians out, and 3) getting rid of Indians altogether. These problems, she says, were solved by: barbed wire and the six-shooter. At last, an honest history teacher! Ebony is charming, ebullient, wise, and wise-cracking. I love her.

This is a first-rate must-read. Go for it.

[Sarah · Rating 4 out of 5]

In my opinion, this is brilliant. It's funny and sad and layered, and I need more time to think about what it says. But it does get at the American experience, European immigrant version. It might indeed be, as stated by others, the great American novel, endlessly sought. If not that, then it is a great New York novel at least.

[Marcia Miller · Rating 2 out of 5]

The reviews and blurbs about this novel were so upbeat, I decided to give it a try. About 30 pages in, I was underwhelmed. A bit farther in, I grew bored. Finally, by about half-way, I decided to put down this book for another. Any other.

I didn't find it anywhere near as funny as reviewers claimed. The story of a lone immigrant woman coming to America alone caught my eye. That she became enamored of a large, older, wealthy, bright, and self-destructive black man was a stretch. To me, the entire scenario bordered on racism and antisemitism in equal measure, and what came across as humor to certain readers struck me as tone-deaf, preposterous, and mean. Yes, there are some funny moments, but also much blathering.

To each their own.

[Jess · Rating 4 out of 5]

I received this book from the Publisher in exchange for an honest review.

How It Made Me Feel:
I haven't read a book in a while that really made me think as I read. Her First American is very different from the books I've been reading lately and I really enjoyed it! It was a completely different take on Historical Fiction for me and I felt like it opened up a completely new door in books. The story is written from Ilka's point of view, a point of view from a Viennese woman learning English and being in New York for the first time in her life. Lately, whenever I've read a historical fiction book, it's been written by an American author. This book was different. I loved the feel of the book as I continued reading, I enjoyed the conversations between characters, I loved hearing about the history, and I liked how Ilka grew through out the story. It was a story that dealt with racism, depression, knowledge, alcoholism, post war situations, and foreign characters. A great combination to say the least.

What I Thought Worked:
One of my favorite parts was reading through Ilka's slow learning of the English language. Reading that she had to go find a 'real American' was sort of a different take on post WWII America. I rather loved that conversations Ilka would have in the book were true to type, seeing how someone who has spoken a language other than English as their first, would start to learn and have to struggle sometimes when hearing native English speakers.

What I Thought Didn't Work:
There were times, where I wasn't able to follow Carter's thought process or ideas. His character was a big all over the place and so very eccentric. But the further I read into the book, the easier I found to understand his character.

Rating
4/5

Why It Got That Rating:
It was a take on post WWII America that I had never taken into consideration. Reading this book opened my eyes and I found something I would have never appreciated before. I enjoyed the reaction I had after finishing the book and I hope that other people can find the same thing.

Who Would I Recommend To:
I would recommend to anyone who enjoys reading about Post WWII America, unconventional romances, and foreigners making their way in the United States.

[Kay · Rating 4 out of 5]

Shelving this book took a moment of thought: the author was born in Vienna and educated in London, but this is at heart a very American story -- perhaps the most American of stories, in fact, for it is an immigrant's story.

The central characters, Ilka Weissnix and Carter Bayoux, are an unlikely pair of lovers: she, a young Jewish girl who fled the horrors of WWII, her parents left behind (one to die, the other to survive but driven mad); he, a sophisticated black intellectual, tormented and alcoholic. They need each other in unexpected ways. One of the pleasures of reading the novel is watching the two characters evolve. While there's little doubt where the story is headed, still it was absorbing to watch it play out.

I also liked how well the author caught the time and place -- 1950's New York. The two characters are set on the cusp of the great civil rights struggle of the sixties, yet it hasn't yet come. Ilka is in many ways an innocent, and she doesn't have any sense of the racial back story of the United States, and her reactions to and growing understanding of Carter's world provide a sort of commentary on the times.

Yet it was a secondary character, Ebony, that I found held my attention the most. There was a long sequence in the second half of the book, in a summer house in Connecticut, that featured Ebony and assorted friends of Carter's. To me this was the central episode of the book. There were long sections which dealt with Carter's long self-destructive alcoholic slide that I found less illuminating.

The greatest pleasure of the book, though, are the conversations - Segal has a wonderful ear for dialog. Each character has a distinctive voice. And the decade, the 1950's, has a own voice, as well - the constant radio and TV chatter that forms the background to Carter's drinking binges in his New York hotel room. It's a voice I can dimly remember from my childhood.

[Michael Reilly · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Backlisted" is my favorite podcast. Two bookish Englishman, a publisher and a writer, discuss one old book each episode. They are joined by two guests who are fans of the book. The books are usually at least 20 years old and can be 150 years old. The conversation is interesting, witty and informative.

Many of the episodes are about books I have read. It is wonderful to revisit old friends. Most of the episodes are about books I have not read. Often, I have not even heard of the book. Those episodes always present the " should-I-read-it?" question.


Backlisted tends towards literary fiction. Frequently I can quickly satisfy myself that this is not my kind of thing. It is important to note that the episodes on books I know I would never be in the mood to read can be as interesting as any. Any book they feature has a complex and interesting story behind it.

Maybe two or three times a year, they convince me to read a book. I almost never regret it. This year they had an episode on Nevil Shute's novel "Trustee from the Toolroom". Never heard of it and would never be inclined to pick it up if I did see it. It was wonderful and I am still in the middle of my Nevil Shute binge.

This book was recently featured on Backlisted. The episode convinced me to give it try. I would not have read it otherwise. It is a love story between a young female Jewish holocaust survivor and an older black intellectual quasi-celebrity. It is mostly set in 1950s New York City. It is very funny.

Ilka Weissnix is a Jewish refugee. By an odd coincidence, she meets Carter Bayoux in a bar in small Neveda town. They exchange phone numbers and meet up again in New York City. She lives in small East Side apartment with her cousin. He lives in a residential hotel downtown. They fall in love.

They are two great characters. Carter is an intellectual. he has written a few books on race relations. He served on Committees in the UN. He has done some teaching. He knows everyone in the high culture black world. He is not doing well. He has been married at least three times. He has a serious drinking problem. Money is very tight. He is alienated from his family. He also has streaks of great decency and kindness. He is very focused on acting correctly. He believes that "protocol should be followed", until he doesn't.

Ilka is a spectacular creation. She arrives in the US with a small amount of shaky English and no knowledge of America. She sets out to learn about America. She presents as a polite and timid seeming woman, but she is set on figuring out this world. One of the running jokes is her trying to use the dictionary to understand slang sayings. The definition of "bug" doesn't help her understand what someone being 'sent to the bughouse" means.

Segal very subtly unfolds Ilka's hard tough core. She is amazingly resistant to what others think. She is brave enough to show her ignorance and ask questions. Without confrontation, she stands up to the very strong characters in Carter's circle.

The book wrestles with serious issues and complicated people, but it does it all in a damned funny way. Carter has a bellboy at the hotel buy his booze for him. The struggle between them about how much the tip should be weaves through the whole book and wraps up with a hilarious parenthetical comment about the bellboy years later.

There is a moving and difficult love story between Ilka and Carter. He is a hard man to love. The racial issue is all through the book. It provides the background for everything. Carter travels in a world of well-meaning liberals and insecure intellectuals. Segal handles them sympathetically but as humans who can be very amusing to watch.

The book is told from multiple viewpoints. Segal enjoys dropping big things and just moving right along. One scene in the middle of the book is, in toto;

"Ilka asked Carter, "What will become of us? Will we end up badly?"
"Of course," said Carter.
Ilka felt the thrill of it. "Of course"!" she said.

The book is full of fascinating people.

Carter's brother Jonas, who we never meet and only hear on the telephone,

Philip, known as 'the bridegroom", who is a charming young white man who tries desperately to get along with Carter despite a very odd relationship between Carter and his new wife,

Ilka's mother who was found in Israel and reunites in America. She is on the edge of dementia but filled with advice.

Buckey Bailey, who is the host of a radio talk show that Carter listens to when he is drinking.

The most nuanced and intriguing character is Carter's friend Ebony. She is married to Stanley, a wealthy white man who we barely meet. She is a force of nature. She does all of the cooking at the summer home. She is the only one who came tame the wild undisciplined six-year-old girl. She is a perfect hostess to everyone. At the same time, anger bubbles under. She subtly makes it clear that she does not approve of the relationship between ilka and Carter. She notices every slight and saves them up. She is a complicated fully rounded person. Ilka is fascinated by her.

Segal creates a big dense world with Carter in the middle. In Carter she has someone who is neither a hero nor an anti-hero. There is a little bit of the con man in him. There is a little bit of the truth teller. There is a little bit of the addict. He is a hard man to be a friend with, but many people want to try.

Read the book. If you are undecided, listen to the Backlisted episode.

[Anupama · Rating 2 out of 5]

I really couldn't get into the book until 3/4 of the way, because I didn't feel the author had given enough background on the Carter Bayoux character for me to sympathize with him or understand why all those around him tolerated/enabled his alcoholism; he was supposed to be a charismatic man, and I couldn't see it. I found other aspects interesting: the African American "up & coming" community, and Jewish immigrant Ilka's mother's PTSD related to escaping from Nazis in Vienna.

[L.M. Elm · Rating 2 out of 5]

I came across a biography of Lore Segal on Literary Hub. Her life appeared so fascinating and the writer waxed exuberant amounts of praise on her work I thought I'd give one of her works a try.

Her First American was one of those books I had high expectations but it failed utterly. The protagonist was a immigrant Jew suffering from the effects of the Holocaust. The love interest/antagonist was a brilliant but suffering black male journalist old enough to be the protagonist's father. I never really understood the protagonist's fascination with the the journalist. He was a black male and an alcoholic. The protagonist didn't feel as if she had any real thoughts of her own. Maybe that's what Segal was trying to show was the effects of the Holocaust had somehow made the protagonist void of feeling. Or maybe it was just bad writing? There were moments where I wondered why I was reading this novel. Then I'd come along a passage of description that put me in awe, then I'd be back to not understanding why the characters were doing what they did. All in all, the lack of the character's internal processing is what killed this book for me. Maybe this book was a product of it's time and inter-racial relationships were something mainstream authors hadn't explored and the publishing world was ready to take a chance on the material? I have no idea.

[Andrew · Rating 4 out of 5]

Having heard the Backlisted episode I was really intrigued to pick this book up after the very positive description of the story and author.
It is a tale of two very different people who meet in a remote Nevada railway station.
Carter Bayoux is a large Black writer who is an alcoholic but knows everyone is New York intellectual society, he is charming and much loved and admired despite his propensity to self destruction through drink.
Ilka Weissnik is a jewish woman half Carter's age who has escaped Vienna as the Nazi threat approached. Her English is limited and as she struggles to understand the subtleties of the language her honesty puts people on edge.
Their mutual attraction leads to a love affair and the book is the story of this remarkable relationship.
It is a story that is told with humour and poignancy but is not sentimental. The story touches on race with a large portion finding Ilka staying with Carter and his friends at a New York lake house and Ilka's naivety about race in a country where the color divide is fundamental to how Carter and his close friends perceive themselves in an America where they are considered inferior makes for interesting scenes while Ilka also has herself been victim of the treatment of jews in Europe.
I was very absorbed by this book which is very readable but has has profound themes at its Centre.

[Russ · Rating 4 out of 5]

Lore Segal is a fearless writer; she does not pander to her readers. She prods, she provokes, she won’t compromise or simplify. She portrays complicated characters, sometimes endearing, sometimes offensive, often inconsistent, always human. She sets complicated scenes, ambiguous, controversial, plot-less but not pointless, and always entertaining. Follow along for an unpredictable adventure: it’s a smart, stimulating romp.

Ilka Weissnix is a 21 yo Jewish refugee from Austria in 1950, separated from her parents during the war, and resettled in NYC with her cousin Fishgoppel (!) With little English comprehension, and clueless as to American social mores, she encounters her “first American”: Carter Bayoux, an older, dissolute Black intellectual who becomes her mentor. Their relationship develops and evolves as Ilka matures and Americanizes, their interdependence shifts and ultimately reverses.

Much is made of the Jewish and Black alliance in the American mixing pot. But don’t look for simple assumptions or conventions. Segal’s characters are sui generis, opinionated, biased, judgemental, which is to say human.

Carter - black intellectual, academic, diplomat, journalist, social butterfly, drunkard, self-destructive
Ilka - naïf, smart, curious, homeless, socially inept,
Fishgoppel
Ebony
Mutti

Wedding
Carnegie Hall
Bloomsbury Arms
Summer house
Hospital
Vienna

[Diane · Rating 3 out of 5]

Stranger in a confusing land

The book was okay, but I didn't love it. It had all the elements to make a great story. A young, Jewish refugee from Nazi Vienna, separated from her parents during the Holocaust, is determined to learn to speak English correctly and to learn the strange - to her - ways of American life so she can leave the New York immigrant society. The first 'real' American she meets is a black, enigmatic alcoholic, Carter. He seems to have made it his job to introduce Ilka to as many different experiences as he can.
The author did a fine job capturing the flavor of the post war era, including subtle references to race relations and the black perspective.

I really wanted to like this novel more than I actually did. However, the narrative lost me several times and I wasn't sure how one scene related to the one it immediately followed.

[Ana Lorena · Rating 4 out of 5]

Carter Bayoux is a mature, middle-aged, book- and street-smart black journalist with a love for bourbon. He meets Ilka Weissnix, a Jewish Viennese and WWII forward thinking refugee in her 20s. They meet at a train station in Nevada and start a relationship in New York City. Ilka gets to know Carter in his green striped pajamas and helps him in many respects, catering to many of his whims. I loved that each kept the essence of who they were. They have a set of friends well blended into the plot with a story of their own.

It is a slow paced novel with great dialogue and lots to think about after finishing it. It is a novel about a caring relationship and individuality and race differences. It is a novel about immigration. Beautifully done!

[Arnie Kahn · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an amazing novel. Dealing with race, gender, religion, and slavery, freedom, Europe and America, it could have been written in 2020. But it was published in 1985, with the first 20 pages published as a short story in The New Yorker in 1983. Stanley Crouch, writing the forward to the 20th anniversary reissue of the novel, “It is one of the first novels to begin to truly break down the conventions of color, which have never been very soft but were surely hard and fast in 1985, when it arrived.” [Please, don’t read the forward until you’ve finished reading the novel.] By the way, Lore Segal’s novel, “Lucinella,” is one of the funniest I’ve ever read.

[Cat · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a read! I will be thinking of this book for a while and so I am giving it five stars. It reminded me of The Great Gatsby in a way. Or maybe my feelings as a reader were similar? I loved the main character while also feeling major frustration at times. It encapsulates New York and a certain time in America without even seemingly trying to, and although at times I wanted to throw this book across the room it was only because I felt tremendous love rage for this book. I think I will definitely need to reread this. So much meat and truth and good god will there ever be a better character name than Fishgoppel? Riveting

[Christopher Junker · Rating 5 out of 5]

Blacks and Jews in America are on parallel lines, traveling together, never meeting says Carter Bayoux a prominent black American journalist to Ilka Weissnix a Jewish refugee in the US after WWII who become lovers. Both are victims of hatred almost unimaginable to those outside those groups, but also ultimately and inexorably to each other no matter how much they love. Weissnix can become a citizen of the US, Bayoux, born here, cannot. Her First American is an arresting portrait of American failure to renounce racism on the heels of military victory over Nazi Germany and the creation of the United Nations.

[Haaris Mateen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Well-written. It's about a young Jewish woman from Vienna who reaches America in the 1950s. The story is about what's lost in translation, and what isn't, about race relations; ultimately, it's a love story but not a happy one even though it's peppered with comedy. The general arc of the narrative bends towards a sad ending and raises questions about what we give and take in a relationship and how we change as a consequence.