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3 of 3 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
No great needs, only necessary ones, Feb 14 2004
There is an area of London often ignored in popular history. "This was the high road of the ghetto, the one square mile where Yiddish was spoken, the irritating pimple on the backside of London, the subject of parliamentary debate, the hundred thousand newcomers among the millions, ready to take fog as their mother's milk here in the East End, where all the noisy, dirty, and stinking industries were exiled from the city." Canadian author Lilian Nattel is trying something different for her sophomore effort. Her first novel, the award-winning The River Midnight, was an exercise in magical realism, a plainly fictional conglomeration of men endowed with the power of transmogrification, angels and demons manipulating mankind to their heart's content, and even the Angel of Death itself, all weaving throughout a late 19th century Polish-Jewish hamlet. In Nattel's follow-up novel, the fantastic co-mingles with realism in a far more muted fashion. Ghosts of grandmothers and wives flit about in the background, providing minor commentary, but more content to stand mutely by, watching as the tragedy of life unfolds about them, tut-tutting to themselves all the while. Nattel is more focused on the human element this time around, resulting in a story that, if more traditional in form than the predecessor, has greater depth and resonance. The Singing Fire, a notably fine novel, continues Nattel's exploration of Jewish identity, this time in turn-of-the-century London. Amidst the peddlers and thieves lining the streets and doorways, Nattel drops Nehama, an innocent Polish runaway dreaming of independence. Ignorant and confused, she finds herself literally sold into prostitution, beginning a chain of misfortune and adversity made all the more painful by her stubborn refusal to give up her dreams. Nattel parallels Nehama's hardships with those of Emilia's, a pregnant Russian runaway who finds shelter with Nehama. Determined to make a finer life for herself, Emilia flees the "half-Yiddish, half-Cockney English of the alley." Abandoning her baby with Nehama, she creates a new image for herself as a gentile in London's West End. Alongside Nattel's vivid descriptions of the hardscrabble lives of her women, Nattel delves into the spiritual and moral heritage of the Jewish experience in England. Her London is a vast cultural landscape divided between the East End traditionalists, and the assimilated English Jews of the West End. The poor of the East End find themselves derided by the population, while the upper-class Jews are "edgy, sitting as they did on a spiked fence between their Englishness and their Jewishness, wanting to prove one and too often reminded of the other, whether by their own hearts or by the distrust of the English-English." Nattel, while not a particularly remarkable stylist, is an absolutely natural storyteller. Her London is boldly alive, a vibrant universe of pain and stereotypes that she tweaks slightly with her own sensibilities, bringing fresh insight to an atmosphere that has grown lyrically stale since the days of Charles Dickens. Yet Nattel's London would be nothing but window-dressing without her characters. Nehama and Emilia provide sterling examples of the survival of insanity. Nehama experiences all the brutality and indifference a Jewish woman can expect of the times, while Emilia undergoes the extreme crisis of conscience in her determined efforts to deny her heritage. Many books have been penned on the Hebrew life, but rarely has such commentary received the compassion Nattel brings to her writing. The Singing Fire has no great meaning behind its story. There are "no great needs, only necessary ones." Lilian Nattel wants to bring voice to those who have not been allowed to speak, and she succeeds wonderfully
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4.0 out of 5 stars
The Singing Fire, May 21 2004
By A Customer
Truly unforgettable.This is a wonderful, sensitive, real portrayal of women. I am recommending it to my book group and friends. I would have given it 5 stars but I found the first 25 pages difficult to get through. Once past the beginning, I loved it.
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5 of 5 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Fantastic Novel, Sep 28 2004
By A Reader - Published on Amazon.com
This review is from: The Singing Fire (Hardcover)
This is a fantastic novel in many senses of the word. Powerfully written and in the tradition of both Jewish fabulist fiction and contemporary magic realism. Centered on women's lives of about 100 years ago but relevant to both our practical and spiritual lives today. And you don't have to be Jewish to enjoy and treasure it!
7 of 9 people found the following review helpful:
3.0 out of 5 stars
This novel will appeal to many readers., April 26 2005
By algo41 "algo41" - Published on Amazon.com
This review is from: The Singing Fire (Hardcover)
Lilian Nattel is a good story teller, and she brings to life Jewish London in the 19th century. Why didn't I like this novel more? In "Singing Fire", I never could get involved because I felt the characters and their stories were there to illustrate the times, and to make an appealing novel, while never taking on a life of their own. As a better written novel, I would point out "Women of the Silk" by Gail Tsukiyama, also about women working under very poor conditions, in pre-WWII China.
4 of 6 people found the following review helpful:
1.0 out of 5 stars
Not "The River Midnight", Jan 13 2007
By Anonymous - Published on Amazon.com
This review is from: The Singing Fire (Paperback)
After enjoying the original style of Nattel's first book, "The River Midnight," I was eager to read this follow-up novel. Like another reviewer, I was disappointed. I found this novel poorly constructed, with a rather contrived story line and cardboard characters to match. Characters like the Squire (Nehama's pimp in the first part of the book) and Emilia's father were one-dimensional, simply evil people with absolutely no complexity. I even found the main characters, Nehama and Emilia very difficult to identify or empathize with.
Many aspects of the book ranged from stretching it to highly unrealistic. Emilia, who wears a cross and passes for a Christian in order to get a job, then gets engaged to a Jewish man who loves her lack of annoying "Jewish" traits. Both her assimilated mother-in-law and her highly religious grandfather-in-law embrace her with fervor and affection, while insisting that she maintain various random aspects of Jewish observance (as a religious Jew, it was obvious to me that Nattel failed to research this aspect of the book; she should have had an Orthodox reader review it for inconsistencies and mistakes, of which there were many. I also found many of the Jewish characters highly stereotyped, like Vaudeville caricatures of what Jews act and sound like, complete with inverted sentences). Later, when the grandfather accidentally discovers Emilia's true origins, his reaction is one of -- anger. Anger? Wouldn't this devoutly religious man be joyful, or at least relieved, that his grandson had actually NOT married outside his faith? This was even inconsistent with the book itself -- when Emilia first entered the family, she was instructed to bend over backward so as not to offend him with her gentile ways. Additionally, when Emilia's husband requests that she convert to Judaism because they are expecting a baby, she resists the idea and is terrified to tell her husband that she already is Jewish, choosing instead to give him the impression that she dislikes Jews. Why would the latter be preferable to the former?
The symbolism and irony in this book are completely unsubtle and hit you over the head, and are part of what makes the plot so contrived. Nehama, a former prostitute, is anxious to hide that part of her life; Emilia, a Jew passing as a Christian, also engages in deception in order to make a favorable impression on those around her. I know, I know, I got it -- this is an ironic parallel. Nehama's adopted daughter (Emilia's by birth) assumes that it his her birth mother who was the prostitute (although she is not clear on what that entails) and even visits the cafe where her adoptive mother once propositioned men, performing a song for Nehama's former pimp, in search of her birth mother. While these plot twists may sound like perfect irony in theory, in practice they are executed in a way which renders the plot highly contrived and artificial. It's as if Nattel thought of these great ironies and then structured the plot so as to make them happen, as opposed to allowing the plot to develop and take a life of its own. In addition to the plot's artificiality, it was also incredibly slow and boring at times. Finally, a major cliffhanger of the story is left unresolved -- will Emilia seek out her daughter, and what will happen (between Emilia and her daughter; between Emilia and Nehama) if she finds her? Spoiler warning -- no.
Additionally, I found the ghosts in the book very annoying. Perhaps it's not fair for me to criticize this since I'm not a fan of magic realism in general; however, I've definitely seen it done better. Here, the ghosts appear in odd places and interact with various characters to no apparent end. They do not add interest to the story, and remind me of the intermittent scenes on the old television show "Sisters" where ghosts and alternate selves engage the characters in dialogue.
Basically, there is no reason to read this book. Neither the plot nor the characters were compelling, and its many flaws were not compensated for.
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