From a new Canadian talent who will sweep you off your feet, a love story about a man and a woman irresistibly drawn to each other despite the impediments of geography and culture.
Meeting as strangers at a party, Raymond and Hannah stumble into a one-night stand with unexpected consequences. Together, they share a single, magical week before Hannah leaves for Jerusalem, where she is to spend nine months at an orthodox yeshiva learning Torah among students who disapprove of intermarriage. Raymond, a graduate student researching love in Robert Burton’s Anatomy of Melancholy, struggles with his loneliness and Hannah’s increasing religiosity.
As their separation comes to an end, Hannah questions whether she can live with a man who is not of her people, and Raymond’s hunger for human intimacy reaches a crisis point. He cheats on her; she begins to practice the Commandments. Still, neither can tolerate the other’s absence. Unable to make a clean break, they’re forced to try their insoluble problems in the city without solution, Jerusalem.
Acute and closely observed, Raymond and Hannah captures with gripping precision the thrill of new romance, the bitter doubt of longing, the inescapable urgings of love.
Excerpt from Raymond and Hannah
Preliminaries
“What are you here for?” Hannah asks Raymond.
“What am I here for? I was invited.”
“You know Paul.”
He nods. “And you?”
Hannah sips her champagne. “I’m here to meet men.”
A moment’s pause, while he casts a critical gaze across the offerings of the room. “What about Jim?”
“Which one’s Jim?”
He points to a hippie leaning on the radiator across the room, a large-bearded man in jeans and a check flannel shirt whose laughter drunkenly booms like dropped tympani over the light chatter. “I realize that I’ve just ruined it by pointing, but maybe it’s all for the best. It wouldn’t have worked out with Jim anyway. He’s married or something. How about Roger?” He bugs his eyes in the direction of a man in overalls. Hannah looks, arching her elegant neck to see the scruffy poseur affecting boredom beside the refrigerator. “The one in overalls. His name’s Roger. Actually I have no idea who he is. I made up the name.”
She frowns. “That one’s not bad. Excuse me.” She reaches over to the table for the champagne and refills their cups.
“My name’s Raymond,” he says.
“Hannah,” she replies.
They touch cups, and Raymond again scans the room, apparently displeased with its contents. “The pickings here really are a bit slim. I suggest we inspect the other rooms to see if this is all the night has to offer.”
Stephen Marche is the author of The Unmade Bed (2016), The Hunger of the Wolf (2015), Love and the Mess We’re In (2013), How Shakespeare Changed Everything (2012), Shining at the Bottom of the Sea (2007) and Raymond and Hannah (2005). He's written for nearly every newspaper and magazine you can name.
A superby written and edited debut novel, with a lot of heart. I especially liked the clever way he wrote out outlines in the margins for various sections of the book.
The story was probably appreciated more because I picked it up at random while, like the protagonists, I was in a long-distance relationship as well.
Raymond and Hannah meet cute at a party and hit it off only to realize that Hannah is leaving in two weeks for Isreal to learn about Judaism. THey decide to continue the 'relationship' long distance while Raymond finishes his PhD thesis at UofT. In the end it wasn't really a book about Judaism or love, to me it was a story about self-discovery and the importance of keeping in touch constantly and how easily misunderstandings creep in and take over the relationship.
I liked the no-nonssense storytelling and the vague ending...it stands upto a re-read
It was certainly an original read with the author creating a literary dance between a couple, who after a few weeks of a lust-driven time, say goodbye. Hannah is off to Israel to immerse herself in the culture, to learn more about her Jewish faith, while Raymond stays at home to continue his studies.
As a reader, I kept wondering if their hot romance would endure the separation. They communicate frequently, giving us a good picture of what they're going through and the pulls on them. Well worth reading.
Raymond and Hannah meet at a party and have a mad weeklong fling, at the end of which she leaves for a yeshiva in Jerusalem to reclaim her largely lost Jewish identity. Sadly, both characters are kind of pretentiously self-examining, the issues around Judaism aren't portrayed in any way that seemed really interesting or meaningful to me, and the author seems to want to imply that humans will nearly always surrender up their better judgements for sex.
This is another book that just left me feeling dirty. It was evident that Raymond and Hannah were not going to stay together and the heartache and pining was all for nothing. It's reminiscent of something I experienced in my own life and I think that's why I felt so strongly about this book. I just wanted to scream the whole time - I wished they had never met. (But then again, then there'd be no book.)
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I like reading it, but I wasn't into it. Marche's language is beautiful and reading this book made a couple subway rides fly by, but when the choice was between reading this book and anything other than staring at ads on the subway, I wasn't interested. I don't really care about Raymond or Hannah. I read the last section of the book this morning to see what happens, and then I returned it to the library.
An inauspicious start, given the force, breadth, and majesty of his second book. A brief and worthwhile romance with a very slight twist on the form. Skip this and just read Shining At The Bottom of the Sea again.
This is one of the best books I have read in a long time. It reminded me a lot of Shawn Wong's American Knees - especially the way in which it weaves sexual desire and identity politics. Not to mention, the author uses the margins of each page to write witty character reflections. Loved it.
From the first sentence, I was back in my twenties, a grad student who had no idea what she wanted to be when she grew up. A sweet and sometimes funny novel about first (serious) love, impetuous decisions, enthusiasm and confusion. Highly recommended.
This book has some very strong points. The unconventional style worked for me--the book is broken into very short sections instead of chapters, each section from one paragraph to three pages long, and at the beginning of each section is a little marginal annotation about who's speaking, where we are, what's going on, or if all those things are self-explanatory, just a little comment on the action. That technique allowed Marche to move fluidly between perspectives, places, and events without spending any time on filler. Many of the sections are like little prose poems, but the lyric parts never caused me to lose my place in the story.
The love story is beautifully portrayed and I rooted for it, rooted for them, so that when the narrative took a turn that seemed calculated to make the story less romance-novel predictable, I was disappointed. The story had already set up the difficulties for the two lovers: Hannah is off to a Jerusalem yeshiva to reconnect with her Jewish identity, Raymond is a WASPy atheist finishing a PhD, and they're physically and culturally remote from one another for most of the story. I would have preferred to see the story work itself out on those terms than to have it go, well, the way it does. I was also a little unbelieving of the tiny social universe they both live in--Hannah's family is next to nonexistent (only Raymond sees her off at the airport) even though she spends most of the novel dealing with her heritage, and Raymond is some kind of PhD student who never teaches, who meets with his advisor once every few months, and who spends every day alone in a library. Maybe that's how it works in Canada, I don't know. But Hannah's yeshiva classmates were a joy to read about, as were the theological explorations they take each other through, and Marche's descriptions of Jerusalem were vivid and immediate.
Overall, it has its problems--I am somewhat inclined to call them "first-novel problems"--but it's an interesting experiment, and a beautiful exercise in writing about the intellectual and the carnal as parts of the same story.
i loved this book. perhaps it was because as i read it, i was currently in a long-distance relationship and could really understand how communication was key. the emails were an amazing way to discuss their relationship; it was as though you were experiencing it with them and reading it as though you were raymond and hannah.
i felt his introduction was awesome. i got the tingles when he said a description of who they were followed by, "be hannah." brilliant.
and true to long-distance relationships, there are always cracks and unravelings. i think stephen took a realistic approach to their tale. though it is a work of fiction, not all things have a fairy-tale ending. therefore, i admired him for doing what he did.
and p.s. - i met stephen marche and i loved the book even more after he explained why he wrote it the way he did. the man is brilliant!
186. Raymond and Hannah by Stephen Marche It’s just about lust at first sight with these two. He’s a graduate student working on a dissertation on The Anatomy of Melancholy and she is an unattached graduate who is at loose ends. They meet in Toronto, but Hannah will be leaving in a week for a nine-month course at a yeshiva in Jerusalem, paid for by her late grandfather. Marche has formatted the book as little sections with little sidebar captions, which I did not appreciate all that much. It reminded me of the Bibles of my childhood, and I found that it was more of a distraction than any kind of added value. Okay, it was irritating and gimmicky. I liked the other students at the yeshiva and their descriptions. I also found some of the theological arguments more interesting than the predictable romance, betrayal and coming back together.
Stephen Marche is a friend (or former student maybe? I forget?) of someone I've corresponded with on the web. Amanda of Etsy maybe? This was a funny little book. Part third-person narrative, part epistolary, with side "synopsis" quotes like you'd expect to see in a magazine article or a research report. Very romantic. Very descriptive, you could almost "see" Jerusalem in Hannah's letters. But I was thrown off by the odd break in style that happens in the very last chapter. Not sure if I'm supposed to think a certain thing, or not. Liked it all a lot, until the end.
An interesting introduction to Toronto and the University of Toronto where I am studying right now. Interesting perspective on Canadians and the complexity and fragility of intimate human relationships. It is an interesting study of how cultural heritage and beliefs influence relationships. Like the use of the postmodern structure of the text using email as a structural element throughout the text.
"Species and languages die out everyday. The whole world is clamouring with lost things and every day an army of mourners--editors, lecturers, curators, writers, archivists-- rush to preserve the frailest relics of everything we love that vanishes. The vanishing makes us all want to burst into song and to burn something and to blow up. Every library is an incomplete encyclopedia of the vanishing's spread."-page 28
Raymond and Hannah were supposed to have a one night stand, but something else developed. So she is off for a year of study in Israel. And he has a dissertion to write in Toronto. This book was really different. I think it is a poetic narrative. But that's not all. More than half of the story is told in emails. I like that the author avoid the cliche ending.
A very bookish book, the kind that I secretly enjoy... :) Of course it features two very serious (but witty) and bookish (and one imagines, beautiful) young people.