For centuries we Jews have been known as the people of the book. I joke to my husband when I mention a Jewish athlete in passing that we are not exactly known for our athletic prowess. Where I can count gifted, Jewish athletes on my two hands and feet, the number of scholarly scribes, rabbis, and authors over the millennia can fill countless libraries. When I originally heard of People of the Book eight years ago, I was intrigued by the title more so than anything. At the time, I either read mysteries or nonfiction. Not much has changed since, but, at the time I was skeptical that a non-Jewish author would write a moving account about a Haggadah, a book of Jewish heritage so personal that most Jewish families throughout history have owned one in order to take part in the Passover Seder in their own home. Not knowing Brooks’ background, I decided to read her memoir Foreign Correspondence before plunging into what I was sure to be a quality historical fiction that, when done well, I can learn as much about history as I do when reading nonfiction. These years later, the tale of recovering the Sarajevo Haggadah still stands out, so much so that I recommended it to both my father’s book group and one of my own, necessitating a reread. What ensued was a history of identity interwoven on a myriad of levels over time.
According to recent history, sofer David Ben Shoushan penned the text of what is now known as the Sarajevo Haggadah in 1492, the year that the Jews were expelled from Spain. The book underwent many journeys until it was recovered after the 1992 Balkan conflict and landed in its current home in the Sarajevo, Bosnia national museum. In 1996, the museum was to celebrate a grand reopening to celebrate Bosnia’s independence after the war, the five hundred year old Haggadah the museum’s centerpiece. At the time the United Nations necessitated that an expert be called upon to verify the book’s authenticity. This expert in book conservatory could not be an American- too controversial- or an Israeli- over fear that the country would want to claim ownership of the book. Brooks made her main protagonist Hanna Heath an Australian, from a young nation a twenty four flight from anywhere else of importance in the world. Even though Brooks has lived her entire adult life in Massachusetts, Australia is her homeland, and one can tell that Hanna Heath is the character she has developed that is closest to herself. Perhaps, this is why when I attempt Brooks’ other award winning books, I find them to be initially dull, whereas with Hanna Heath, due to the personalization of the character, I am drawn in from the book’s opening sentences, setting the stage for a page turning story.
Hanna Heath is a person of the book in her own right. Raised by a housekeeper because her single mother cared more about her profession than her daughter, Hanna was everything her mother was not. Like another famous protagonist, she has too much of her mystery father in her. Sarah Heath is an internationally renowned neurosurgeon who became the first woman to chair the department in Sydney’s hospital and paved the way for generations of women who had a future in medicine. This came at the expense of a loving relationship with her only child, who was drawn to excavations and history rather than following her mother to a career in medicine. Following a stormy adolescence, Hanna left Sydney to pursue a doctorate at Harvard and then to Vienna to work under the expert book conservationist Werner Heinrich. This man could never be a replacement father to Hanna but by the time her internship ended, this internationally acclaimed professor referred to her as Hanna, Liebchen. He seemed more like family to her than her mother ever would. Initially, Hanna’s identity is as much as a mystery as the Haggadah’s, which is why she appears as the perfect person to verify its history. Learning the identity of either protagonist- historian or book- would have made this a memorable book on its own. Interspersing the two tales puts Brooks’ story over the top.
The Haggadah made it out of Spain in 1492 and arrived with the Jews in Venice. Rabbi Judah Aryeh (Yehuda the Lion) is based off of historical figure Rabbi Leon Moderna of the 17th century. His goal in 1609 Venice was to save the now century old Haggadah from the hands of the papal inquisition. The illuminations on each page at the time was considered the desecration of G-d’s name, and many papists sent such books to the flames. Somehow the Haggadah survived and ended up in 1894 Vienna. By this point, it has changed hands many times throughout the centuries and was utilized yet again as a payment to a doctor who needed to finance expensive treatments for number of his patients. Austria was not destined to be the Haggadah’s final stop in time, although it is the home of Werner Heinrich who made finding and preserving the book as his life’s ambition. From Vienna, the Haggadah made it to the Bosnian national museum whereas it was rescued from the Holocaust by its Muslim Kustos Effendi Kemal, a renown scholar in his own right. The Kemals are based off the Kurtuk family who as righteous gentiles saved Jews and their books during the Holocaust. For every step of the Haggadah’s history, one can see that Brooks underwent painstaking research to ensure that she did justice to its history. The characters are made up, but are facsimile of true historic figures who throughout the centuries guarded this Haggadah with their lives as Jews were forced out of country after country in their diasporic existence. Ironically, the Haggadah’s final stop is in a predominately muslim country which is not lost on me, as Brooks tries to stress humanity’s similarities rather than its differences.
Even though I found the Haggadah’s long history to be compelling, some of the stops seemed rushed, including those in Venice and Vienna, although perhaps that is because it resides in those countries for less time than elsewhere. What I did find moving, and most likely personal for Brooks, was the story of Hanna Heath and her identity. One can see through characterization that although Sarah Heath is a pioneering woman in her field, she did not exhibit a motherly instinct or enjoy a loving relationship with her daughter. She noted in one scene that she did not want the baby but her husband did so out of love for him, Sarah was willing to carry the baby to term. Ironically, she mentions offhandedly that she does not operate on bodies but on souls, on what makes people who they are; yet, she withholds the identity of Hanna’s father until she is in her thirties. From character development, it is clear that Hanna is like her father, who one finds out is a famous Australian of Jewish descent. This Australian shares the name with an actual Israeli politician, but, for the book’s purpose, he was killed off before Hanna was born, setting the stage for conflict later on. Perhaps this is why Hanna could not bring herself to form a serious relationship even as she moved toward her mid thirties. Her internship lasted but a few years, so she never had a father figure in her life, and her mother, devoid of love, never remarried much less dated. This slightly mirrors Brooks’ upbringing, which is why it was not difficult for both author and protagonist to move to the other side of the world. Hanna Heath gives her love over to her profession although she wonders who she is, just like the Haggadah she is entrusted to study. Over the course of the book both these questions will be answered, resulting in a moving, fast page turning story.
Today Geraldine Brooks is renown as a gifted author of her generation having won the Pulitzer Prize for March and Horse. These novels also take historical figures and attempt to answer the who and why behind the person, or in the second case, race horse. Both of these award winning books started slow for me, to the point of me putting them down; at some point, I will attempt one or both of them again. I believe that where People of the Book excels is where these other Pulitzer “surprises” do not is that this earlier book is personal and attempts to answer the question of one’s own identity. Today the actual Sarajevo Haggadah is on display in the Bosnian National Museum. My parents, after reading this for their own book club, saw the actual book while traveling. Some might argue as people of the book, that the Haggadah belongs to the people of Israel. Brooks states her position through the course of the novel as the Haggadah underwent its final historical journeys. Brooks’ research into the history of this now more than five hundred year old work of art gives the Sarajevo Haggadah justice. One can tell that she took a personal journey of her own to write this, as it would have merited a reread on my part, with or without the necessity to moderate a discussion.
4.5 stars