Toni Morrison - A Mercy

I finished this book over two weeks ago, and have been struggling to write the review ever since. I honestly hoped I wouldn't have to drag it into the new year, but there you have it... This is the first Toni Morrison I've read, and I started the book with great trepidation. I've heard phenomenal things about Toni Morrison, and I was intimidated... unsure of what to expect. I really hoped I'd enjoy the book, and it would make me go out and buy more books by Morrison instantaneously, but unfortunately, I was left feeling fairly indifferent. I didn't like the book. I didn't dislike the book... and I'm not accustomed to having that kind of a reaction to a book - especially as I've mulled over it for about two weeks!

A reasonably short book (almost a novella), A Mercy is the story set in the 17th century, and provides insight into the life and times of four women living under Jacob Vaark's roof, prior to slavery becoming commonplace. Vaark is a Dutch trader, who has a farm in rural America, and he gets Florens (a young slave girl) as payment for a bad debt. Rebekka (his wife from England), Lina (a Native American who survived small pox, and now runs the farm), and Sorrow (another servant, who survived a shipwreck, and is grossly incompetent) make up the other three women.

The book starts with Florens' first person narrative, as she leaves the farm in search of the blacksmith, who has medical expertise - expertise needed to save the life of her mistress, Rebekka. However, Florens' primary reason for finding the blacksmith is her unequivocal love for him.

The narrative of each chapter  focuses on one or the other of the female characters (as well as Vaark). We hear their story, determine their origins, and figure out their co-dependencies on each other, as well as their insecurities. Be it Rebekka's ambivalence when she first arrives, and see that Lina runs the farm, or Lina's annoyance with Sorrow's lack of commitment to the jobs at hand; be it Lina's overprotectiveness about Florens, or Florens' desire to wear shoes - just like a lady!

There are multiple layers; a multitude of relationships and emotions explored; events of historical significance weaved into the story. However, I found the book lacking depth, and the characters to be fairly two-dimensional. There was a lot packed into the book, and I found that I couldn't relate to them. Frankly speaking, I didn't really care much about them... other than Florens. The opening chapter had me fascinated, and I found the final chapter to be redeeming, to an extent. But - can a book really tick with just two chapters, and some other captivating events?

Maybe I didn't get the book. Maybe it's just too intelligent for me. Or maybe, it's not one of Morrison's better works. I don't know - it's the first Morrison I've read! Would you recommend trying out another book by the much acclaimed Toni Morrison? Okay, that was a rhetorical question. The main question is: which one?

Rating : C

Simon Mawer - The Glass Room

Shortlisted for the Booker Prize in 2009, Simon Mawer's immense novel revolves around The Glass Room, or, Der Glasraum: A modernist house resulting from an architect whose maxim is ornamentation is crime. The conception of the house happens when Victor (a Jew, who owns an automobile manufacturing company) and Liesel Landauer are gifted a plot of land by Liesel's parents, on their wedding. The parents suggest building a good and solid house; yet, Victor, looking into the future of Czechoslovakia, a young nation of hope, conceives a modernist house, without the fortresses, and gothic windows. He actively searches for an architect to undertake this commission, and while the young couple honeymoon in Vienna, they meet Rainer von Abt, a self-proclaimed poet of space and structure, who desires to take Man out of the cave and float him in the air; to give him a glass space to inhabit. And, so the the wondrous Glass Room is born.

Once completed, it had become a palace of light, light bouncing off the chrome pillars, light refulgent on the walls, light glistening on the dew in the garden, light reverberating from glass - a masterpiece created by von Abt for the Landauers. The time is 1930s though, and the nation of hope is soon going to find out that the future is not as optimistic as they foresaw.

As history unfolds, and Czechoslovakia is invaded by the Nazis, the young couple flee the country for Switzerland, where they hope to build a stable life, with their two children. The relationships that were initiated early on in the book: Victor's almst obsessive affair with a prostitute, and Liesel's close friendship with Hana (a "modern" non-orthodox vivacious character), run much stronger now, as Victor and Liesel drift apart, but remain married. These intense relationships and emotions carry the book for the most part.

However, the main protagonist of the book isn't any person, but The Glass Room itself. So, when the family flees, the focus shifts to the Nazi lab that is set up there, which runs "tests" on people, in order to prove that the Jews are indeed inferior to the Nazis. A new host of characters are introduced, who play their short part exceptionally well. Once the Nazis leave, Der Glasraum is owned by the Soviet, for their lodgings. And then, it becomes a children's hospital, and as before, a new host of characters are introduced. Finally, the Czechoslovakian state wants to take it over, and make it a museum.

One would think that the myriad of characters, plots and time-lines would make this book cluttered, and cliched; that it would run the risk of trying to be too profound; that the varying emotions and relationships would be overdone and hyperbolic. However, Mawer, via some artistry (or waving of the wand), manages to escape these criticisms for this absolutely fantastic book, with the atypical protagonist.

At the beginning of the book is an author's note, that reads The Glass Room is a work of fiction, but the house and its settings are not fictional. A little researching indicated that the house is based on Villa Tugendhat, designed by the German architect, Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, in Brno. It was built between 1928 and 1930, and is said to be the icon of modern architecture.

Rating: A+

Michelle Magorian - Goodnight Mr. Tom

This incredibly poignant well written story tackles various important and sensitive topics, some of which are still valid today, despite the book being set around the time of the second World War.

Set in the English countryside, Michelle Magorian tells the story of Willie, a timid little specimen, who is an evacuee from London, and is made to stay with the reticent grumpy Tom Oakley, who Willie calls Mr. Tom.

Mr. Tom is thoroughly unprepared for the scared nervous creature that's at his doorstep, as he half-expects the evacuee stereotype - the wild ill-mannered children, who cause more chaos than anything else. However, he soon finds out that Will has been continuously abused by his mother, and his small body is covered with sores and bruises. But - the psychological damage surpasses the physical, as Willie cowers at the thought of getting on the wrong side of Mr. Tom, and is petrified of doing anything to annoy him. He also wets his bed, throws up his food, expects absolutely nothing, and tries to shut out the world around him, as his mother has brainwashed him into believing that people will only like him if he's invisible and quiet.

However, Mr. Tom has demons of his own. Ever since the death of his beloved Rachel and son, he had resigned himself from village activities, and kept to himself, grieving alone. Yet, when Willie walks into his life, unexpectedly, he attempts to change, and provides the young boy with a happy home, almost selflessly. Be it clothes, food, shoes, or spending time narrating stories or organising surprise birthday parties!

A children's book, there is no surprise that Will (calling someone Willie sounds ridiculous, doesn't it?) overcomes his childhood traumas, makes friends, works hard, and is a talented artist, under the protective loving care of Mr. Tom - the hero. Yet, half way through the book, Will gets a letter from his mother in London, who is ill, and wants him back...

This story will make you laugh, and it will make you cry. You'll hate the woman that's Will's mother, but you'll wish for more Mr. Toms in this world. You'll mourn the tragedy of war, but cherish the permanence of friendship, and you'll come to terms with life not being fair, but, things having a way of working out - eventually.

As a children's book, this is incredible. Yet, as an adult, I found this book a little too simple, without the raw emotion I'd love to see in a book like this, which could bring it to life. Of course, one can argue that it might not be a book for children then...

Rating: B+

Amy Tan - The Joy Luck Club

Amy Tan's debut novel, The Joy Luck Club, is the first book by her that I have read. It is also the first book I've read with strong Chinese references, so I wasn't quite sure as to what I should expect from this book. The Joy Luck Club is the story of four Chinese women who have immigrated to the United States of America, under different circumstances, and all four are attempting to bring up their daughters in America - daughters who think like Americans, despite their mothers best efforts to instil in them their Chinese culture and heritage.

The San Francisco version of the "Joy Luck Club" was set up by the late Suyuan Woo (June Woo's mother, whose death the reader learns of in the opening lines of the book), and it was a gathering of four women, with their husbands, as they played mah jong, and invested the "winnings" in the stock markets . Suayan Woo had started the same back in China, pre-immigration, during the time of the Japanese invasion, when hope was scarce, and joy minimal.

Each week, we would forget past wrongs done to us. We weren't allowed to think a bad thought. We feasted, we laughed, we played games, lost and won, we told the best stories. And each week, we could hope to be lucky. That hope was our only joy. And that's how we came to call our little parties Joy Luck.

While the stories of the daughters were typically American, with marital problems, single motherhoods, identity crises, and struggling between being American, with a Chinese exterior, the stories of the mothers were far more interesting (to me). Be it the escape from China during the war, to leaving babies on the road, with gold on the side, so that someone with a good heart could give the babies a good home. One of the mothers was forced to marry someone who was very rich, and everyone considered her to be lucky. Desperate not to let her family down, she lived up to the expectations, until, she managed to orchestrate an escape, with her new family's blessings. There are stories on losing children, of losing faith, and, being the fourth wife to a rich man, after the first husband had passed away... and how, being the fifth is better than being the fourth!

It was an interesting witty insight into a historical war-ridden China, but, I found that the daughters had very stereotypical characters, and nothing made them stand out. They were selfish, self-obsessed, and at times, it came across as though they were almost ashamed of their Chinese heritage - something one of the mothers pondered on as well. There was jealousy, rebellion and pettiness, that I found both, crass and cringeworthy. But, it was all very superficial as well, and I found that I couldn't care less about them - even if I tried. The writing, all in all, was good, and flowed naturally. It was funny, in pieces, and poignant in places. It was bleak, at times, but not bordering on complete despondence, thereby keeping the hyperbolism to the minimal - something I appreciated, for in books like these, occasionally, I find that the author gets carried away.

Have you read this book? Or, anything else by Amy Tan? What do you think of it, and would you recommend any of her other books?

Rating: 3.5

Linda Grant - When I Lived In Modern Times

The year is 1946, Israel doesn't exist yet, and Tel Aviv is part of Palestine. World War II has just ended, but, its aftermath continues, as the global map is changing. and colonialism is coming to an end. Evelyn Sert, a twenty year old hairdresser from Soho (London), sails to Palestine to be part of the Zionist movement, as Israel is born. Her mother has just died after a series of strokes, and her mother's lover, Uncle Joe, arranges for her to leave London, with ample money, and the dream of being part of a historical movement for all Jews.

Thus, starts the story:

This is my story. Scratch a Jew and you've got a story. If you don't like elaborate pictursques full of unlikely events and torturous explanations, steer clear of the Jews. If you want things to be straightforward, find someone else to listen to. You might even get to say something yourself. How do we begin a sentence?

Listen...

After spending twenty years bounded by Soho in the east, and Hyde Park in the west, Evelyn was a self-proclaimed 'west-end girl', and her initial reaction to Palestine is that of excitement, and alarm. Unaccustomed to the heat, defecating while squatting, and telling Jews from Arabs, who looked strangely identical in their summer outfits, one can hardly blame her. However, when she moves into the kibbutz, she is swayed by their ideals and the road the diaspora is taking. However, she is incapable of carrying out the hard menial tasks, in the heat, and decides to  make her way to Tel Aviv.

At a cafe, en route to Tel Aviv, she meets Johnny, who tells her to "hop on" to his motor bicycle, and he'll ensure she gets there in a flash. And so she does. She moves into an apartment, and finds a job as a hairdresser - the first thing she does is dye her hair a platinum blonde. This is beautiful symbology, for the rebirth of Evelyn as Priscilla goes hand-in-hand with the birth of Israel as a Zionist nation, as she spies on the British who come to the salon.

As things go, she gets romantically involved with Johnny, and while he tries to keep her at arm's length from some of his activities, insisting she doesn't want to know about them, she does get sucked into them, and thus we see another flash of history - of how things worked in a country on the verge of being born, but still being a British colony.

This is a fascinating book, full of metaphors and symbols from probably one of the most compelling times in our history. Be it the hairdresser reference mentioned above, or the stark white building complexes where Evelyn lived, which seem to signify purity and idealism, as the birth of a dream is realized.

The 1940s will always be remembered for World War II, Nazism, and the bombings at Pearl Harbor, Hiroshima and Nagasaki. As Linda Grant herself says:

We usually think of the 1940s as the war years but that was only 50 per cent of it. From 1945, the whole political map was changing, colonialism was coming to an end, people - either refugees or demobbed soldiers - were trying to go home or find homes to go to. It was an extraordinary period both of flux but also a time when people were more interested in the future than the past (how different from now) and none more so than the Jews, for whom the past was a very bad memory indeed.

I've read a lot about that era, but this is the first book I've read about the birth of a country, which continues to play an important role in the political map today, and I found myself wondering: why haven't I read more about this movement?

Evelyn's character itself is a contradiction of sorts, as she struggles to find an identity: be it conforming to the Jews who she wants to be like, or hang out with the British, who she finds it easier to associate with, due to her upbringing in London. It's a coming-of-age novel, as for the first time, she has to make decisions for herself, and is oft' confused and sometimes decides to do things against her better judgement.

However, her relationship with Johnny seems far-fetched, and one has to wonder if Evelyn is actually as naive as some of the events in the book make her out to be. Does she honestly not contemplate the consequences of her actions, or does she not realize the gravity of them?

Rating: 3.5

Have you read this book? Or, have you read any other books on Israel and Palestine? Do you recommend any of them?

Lloyd Jones - The Book Of Fame

Have you ever read a book, which fills you with guilt, because you haven't really enjoyed it? For me, this book is Lloyd Jones' The Book of Fame. I almost feel guilty about picking it up, because, when the book was being written, the author didn't have a reader like me in mind. This is the second book I've read this year written in a collective first person (the first being The Virgin Suicides), and this follows the inaugural All Blacks tour in 1905. It's mostly an account of all the rugby games played by the All Blacks during this tour: the points they scored, the points scored against them, the amount of newspaper space devoted to them, and the hospitality of some countries, compared to the disdain of others.

Unfortunately, the problem stems from the fact that I am not a rugby fan, and I found that I cared very little about the scorecard when they played various local and national teams. The fact that this accounted for three-fourths of the book was a bit of a shame. Also, this followed twenty-seven characters, all from different backgrounds. No one character had a role that stood out more than the others, and keeping track of twenty-seven protagonists in a two-hundred odd page book is a bit of a task. Specially as there was nothing distinct that set them apart... eventually, all their characters merged into one - the collective narrator.

However, this is probably one of the most beautifully written books I've ever read. The author, with blatant disregard for the rules of grammar, lets his thoughts and emotions flow, and the result is almost poetic. Also, despite the primary focus being on rugby, this book also shows how twenty-seven men, from different walks of life (miners, boot makers, bankers) come together, to show England what they're made of. It shows their solidarity, their unity, and how they approach the game differently to their European counterparts, making it that much tougher for them to get beaten.

The morning after the match saw us clambering down various stairways to get to the newspapers to see what they had to say - we were 'slippery as eels' 'persistent as wasps' 'clever and alert as monkeys' [we] worked together like the parts of a well-constructed watch' ...

Their success and on-field sportsmanship immediately led to them being adulated by the media. They couldn't do anything wrong. Nothing diminished their popularity.

We were the stuff of the shop window What children's birthdays are made of We were Christmas The bubble in the pop The jam on the bread We were the place smiles came from

What Jones cleverly does is, combine the historical events of the time with the rugby games played by the All Blacks. So, when the team is comparing the number of lines The Times devotes to them, it's against the world-events going on at the time: plague in India, Anglo-Japanese treaty, Italian earthquake, Warsaw bombings, bloodshed in Odessa. The ironic thing: more oft' than not, the All Blacks got more coverage than world news! Just to note, while the events and games are all real, the personalities and off-the-field activities are purely fictional.

He also shows the fatigue and homesickness of these players, as the season tumbles on, and they're playing game after game. A chapter of the book is actually called, Fatigue and the Irresistable Attraction of Defeat. Goes to show the frame of mind the Kiwis were in, towards the end of the English leg of their tour.

And then there's the hospitality and charm of the Irish, but the lack of sportsmanship and sheer hostility of the Scottish; the latter didn't even dine with the foreigners post the game! The excitement of being in Paris, or Paree, for it was not Wales or England, and the final leg at New York! It shows the injuries and illnesses of these players who dominated the fields like gods, and their hero's welcome home, as they lost only the one game through the tour.

I cannot bring myself to rate this book, for, although the subject matter didn't interest me at all, it really is a fantastically written and clever book. If you like rugby, pick it up - you won't be disappointed. If you're an avid sports fan, but not that much into rugby, I'd suggest avoiding it. And if you don't like rugby, you're missing out on some fine poetry, but, there are things targeted more to you than this.

Just to conclude, this is the first time I haven't really enjoyed a book, but can't wait to get cracking on another book by the author (in this case, it's Mister Pip).

Salman Rushdie - Midnight's Children

The winner of the Booker Prize in 1981, the Booker of Bookers in 1993, and the Best of the Booker in 2008, this book is much-acclaimed and highly recommended. The New York Times claims:

The literary map of India has to be redrawn... Midnight's Children sounds like a continent finding its voice.

And, I can't even refute that for argument's sake, because this epic novel explores the history of Indian independence, of the Indo-China war, the Emergency, blackouts, the Partition, the emergence of Bangladesh, and essentially, it's a history of the Indian sub-continent from the time of its birth. But, what makes this novel truly historical is its protagonist: Saleem Sinai, born exactly at the stroke of the midnight hour, when the world slept and, India awoke to life and freedom, and the other 'midnight children' - children born between midnight and 1 am on the day of India's independence. One thousand and one of them. These children are all special, gifted. While one can travel through time, another can travel via any reflective surface. There's a witch, and there's a girl so beautiful that her beauty blinds anyone who sees her face. Someone else can changes sexes at will. But, of course, the most potent of gifts comes to Saleem, born exactly at midnight - the gift of telepathy, as well as, being able to 'conference' in all the midnight's children, and allowing them to communicate through him. And his nemesis, Shiva, who ironically enough, is born in the same hospital at exactly the same time. While Saleem was the offspring of a Hindu street-singer, Shiva was born into a affluent Kashmiri family. However, typically, a nurse made the switch, thereby changing the destiny of the two most potent Midnight Children, who would be mortal enemies until the end. While Saleem's birth was celebrated, with a letter from the then Prime Minister, saying his life would always be entwined with his country's, Shiva's birth was not celebrated nation-wide!

So, who were the Midnight's Children? What did they signify?

Reality can have metaphorical content; that does not make it less real. A thousand and one children were born; there were a thousand and one possibilities which had never been present in one place at one time before; and there were a thousand and one dead ends. Midnight's children can be made to represent many things, according to your point of view; they can be seen as the last throw of everything antiquated and retrogressive in our myth-ridden nation, whose defeat was entirely desirable in the context of a modernizing, twentieth-century economy; or as the true hope of freedom, which is now forever extinguished; but what they must not become is the bizarre creation of a rambling diseased mind. No: Illness is neither here nor there.

However, this book does not trace the life of all one thousand and one children, or the five hundred and eighty one that survived. In fact it focuses solely on Saleem, the narrator, and the thirty-one years of his life. And the life of his parents and grandparents. An astrologer predicted Saleem's fortunes (or, shall we say misfortunes, for he was both, the master and the victim of his time) before his birth:

A son... such a son! A son, who will never be older than his motherland - neither older nor younger. ... There will be two heads - but you shall only see one - there will be knees and a nose, a nose and knees. Newspaper praises him, two mothers raise him! Bicyclists love him - but crowds will shove him. Sisters will weep; cobra will creep... Washing will hide him - voices will guide him! Friends mutilate him - blood will betray him! Spittoons will brain him - doctors will drain him - jungle will claim him - wizards reclaim him! Soldiers will try him, tyrants will fry him... He will have sons without having sons. He will be old before he is old! And he will die before he is dead!

Sounds complicated, right? The above pretty much sums up the story. If you think it's confusing, it's because it is. A tryst with destiny, a dance with fate and he seems singly responsible for a multitude of historical events in India, post-independence: be it the emergence of Gujarat and Maharashtra, or the Indo-Pak wars, the politics, or even the Emergency period!

You would think that the Midnight's Children would unite, to do some good, to do their nation proud. But, India at the time, seemed to be in a chaotic state of class differences, where people of the various castes did not interact with one another. And, there was a bigger problem: Saleem was their only mode of communication, and once he discovered how he and Shive had swapped destinies, he was reluctant to open the Midnight's Children network again, lest his arch-enemy discovered how his affluent birth had been denied. So, the children lived in denial, hiding their gifts, not interacting with one another, and thereby letting the nation succumb to an apparent greater evil, which would be the end of the Children.

Yes, it's a complex plot, and it's a difficult read. Rushdie's writing is convoluted, and he has literally created his own language and grammar rules. From not using commas, to using words like 'nearlynine' and 'almosteight'. Towards the latter half of the book, there are chunks where in the same paragraph, he refers to himself in both, first and third, person, making the book more difficult to read than it should be. But then again, with my past experiences with Rushdie, this isn't altogether surprising.

The book's interesting, gripping, and colorful. It shows you a historical India, tainted with its new-found independence, and corruption. It gives you an insight into the culture of the country, and the lifestyle. The fascination with Europeans and Americans, and the emphasis on 'black' being unattractive.

However, what I really loved about the book was the role of Padma - a role so effortlessly and artistically worked in, that it actually helped me through the first couple of hundred pages. So, who is she? Padma is physically present as Saleem is writing his story. Through the book, we are allowed a glimpse into the psyche and emotions of Saleem, as he narrates his story, battling his past, and simultaneously attempting to adhere to the truth as much as possible. However, Saleem is prone to digressing, and often, initially, I found that I wasn't quite sure where the book was going. And, that's where Padma steps in: she calls him on it.

But here is Padma at my elbow, bullying me back into the world of linear narrative, the universe of what happened next: 'At this rate,' Padma complains, 'you'll be two hundred years old before you manage to tell about your birth.'

or,

You better get a move on or you'll die before you get yourself born.

Honestly, at the time I was reading this portion, I was hoping the narrator would bring his meanderings to a close, and move on with the story. What's amazing is, this allows both: digressions, and a gentle push back into the story line.

This is an amazing work of literature, and I fully think it deserves to win both, the Booker of Bookers and the Best of the Booker. Volume, story, historical value and literary significance - all in abundance.

Overall rating: 9/10.

Philip Roth - The Plot Against America

This review has been outstanding for about a month and a half, and for that I apologize. I read it back when I was working towards a big deadline, and I just didn't find time to review it back then. But here it is, now...

I stumbled on to this book by chance. One of my colleagues recommended The Man In The High Castle to me, fleetingly, and it sounded quite interesting. However, by the time the day had come to a close, and I got home, I just couldn't remember the name of the book. So, I googled something like 'World War II alternate reality", and guess what I found: Philip Roth's The Plot Against America. I still haven't read The Man In The High Castle, but this, this was fantastic! Is this what they call 'serendipity'? A fortunate mistake? Because, it sure was. Barring the classics that are Gatsby and A Clockwork Orange, this has been my favorite book in 2009. 

The premise of the book is both, credible and simple: what if Lindbergh had won the 1940 Presidential election, instead of Franklin D. Roosevelt? In an interview, Roth says he stumbled upon a sentence in Schlesinger's notes, which stated something along the lines of: Some Republican isolationalists wanted Lindbergh to run for President in 1940. And so, the book was born.

Roth has gone to great lengths to keep all the other events as historically accurate as possible, so much so that the book actually seems like real history. The political characters, the speeches, historical events - they all seem to add up. He even chose Winchell to lead the opposition against Lindbergh, as he hated the latter; calling him pro-Nazi from the moment Lindbergh propagated the cause of America not intervening in events geographically far away from them. I concede that the thought of Winchell ever running a political opposition against the President of the United States is scary, but, then again, you can say the same about Lindbergh becoming President. Nonetheless, one can also see why Lindbergh becoming President was not as incredible as it sounds: an aviation hero (making the first transatlantic flight in the late 1920s), he gained public sympathy when his child was kidnapped and murdered. He said 'Hitler was a great man,' but simultaneously voiced what must have been a very popular opinion: No American should die on foreign soil! So, yes, what if Lindbergh occupied the White House in 1940... 

While some of the historical accuracies makes the book 'real', what makes it magnificent is that Roth chooses to write it in first person, in a direct way, where the narrator is Roth's younger self - all of seven when the book starts. Living with his parents, his older brother and his cousin, Roth's narration is a mixture of childhood pains and adult intelligence.

The book opens with:

Fear presides over these memories, a perpetual fear. Of course no childhood is without its terrors, yet I wonder if I would have been a less frightened boy if Lindbergh hadn't been President, or if I hadn't been the offspring of Jews. 

One of the so-called pains is when one of the neighboring kids tries to befriend him, but Roth only has disdain for him, even after Seldon saves his life. In fact, the greatest tragedy of the book is orchestrated by Roth, inadvertently, and one ends up feeling the greatest sympathy for Seldon's loss. 

While Roth is fighting these childish personal battles, he is also aware of the political environment, that seems to be pulling his family apart, as all its members are dealing with Lindbergh as President in their own world. His cousin runs away from home, to fight the War, and comes home with a prosthetic leg and anger - anger at how things turn out. His brother idolizes Lindbergh, and uses his artistic talents to create amazing portraits of him, which he keeps hidden under his bed. His father is furious with the turn of events - specially, when he takes his family on a holiday to Washington, and their hotel room is rendered unavailable. Bess (his wife) is embarrassed, as he reminds the people around him of the Gettysburg principle : All men are created equal. It's no avail, and they are forced to find another hotel room. They live the dream, Philip's father says, and we live in a nightmare.

As the book progresses, and more anti-Semitism is introduced through programs like 'Just Folks', which encourages Jewish city boys to go and work on a farm for a summer. Philip's older brother, Sandy, is one such member, and he is later requested to encourage other Jewish boys to do the same. Bess' sister, Evelyn, has a boyfriend who is a Rabbi, a Rabbi who propagates Lindbergh's cause, insisting what's happening in Germany is completely different to what's happening in America; i.e. the Jews should enter into a country life, and disappear into it. This adds more friction to the family relationships. 

Can you imagine this? A fascist America? The President of the Free World being anti-Semites? America siding with Germany during the War, and signing non-aggression treaties? I can't, not for the life of me. But Roth, he's managed to a spectacular job of bringing something we can't imagine to life, and making us grateful that for once, the 'what if' didn't quite pan out. 

Overall, a 9 on 10.