(Note: this review was written after completing both books in the series and may address some aspects of the second book, but will be mostly without spoilers.)
---Plot/Intro---
Historical fiction at its most unique as we venture back in time over 1,700 years not to see the continued fall and decline of the Roman Empire, but a peek at its eastern rival, the Sasanian Empire during its continued rise in power. But no, not a pair of books about court intrigue at the highest order (though that we get some of that in the second book), but a slice of life of especially pious Jews given a surprising amount of freedom to live as they see fit.
In two books spanning close to 800 pages, we find ourselves following Hisdadukh, the camera that moves, as she provides day by day, month by month, and later on, year by year observations of the comings and goings of the life of a burgeoning rabbinical court, her own trials and tribulations, and, in the second book, a surprising amount of magic including possibly more than one talking cat.
---Interesting Highlights---
“None of these great men greeted me, although a few knelt to tell Chama what a brave man his father was or what a fine scholar he’d been. In their eyes I scarcely counted as a mourner. Bitter bile rose in my throat as I realized what they must be thinking—I was still young and fertile and would soon find a new husband, while Ukva had lost his one, irreplaceable brother.
“Most important, however, is that another woman will marry him if she doesn’t, for nobody is concerned that a man’s third wife will die.”
“Why is a woman widowed twice considered an unmarriageable katlanit, but nobody holds Abaye responsible for the deaths of his two wives?” I asked.
“I don’t know, yet that is the law,” he replied.
““Even your mother, even your grandmother, even a woman standing on her grave may adorn herself,” Father retorted. “Six or sixty, they all run to dance when they hear the timbrels sound.””
“It was indeed a fine view, but I was more pleased to see the roof’s sturdy railing.”
---Review---
There’s probably never been a book—or two in this case though for the sake of the review, they will be treated as one—that has stirred up such conflicting emotions as Rav Hisda’s Daughter. A rare book that three quarters in almost became a DNF, but after pushing through to the finish line, sticking around may have been worth it...barely.
This is not a bad book. In fact, it’s very unique. Historical fiction may be popular, but the period the author has selected and the viewpoint no less on paper would most likely interest only a select number of people. Yet we get what seems to be a relatively accurate and realistic look at what life may have been like for financially secure Jews in what could be considered a mini golden age of sorts.
Only towards the very end when Rome officially becomes Christian is there even a whiff of trouble over the horizon. In fact, that—not the new religion—but the lack of a real feeling of suspense may be one of the issues that made this a difficult book to get through. In a nutshell, if one loves the Book of Ruth, but wants an 800 page version of it with some magic at the end because yes, what begins as historical fiction almost out of nowhere transmogrifies into historical fantasy (and literally at times with at least one character temporarily turning into a donkey in front of everyone’s eyes).
Hisdadukh, our heroine and eyes for the entire tale, is not the easiest character to relate to or even to root for. The daughter of a famous Rabbi noted many a time in the Talmud, she’s as pious as one can be. She’s also, as noted, as rich as most any Jew in her period can become (later on a private bathhouse is built in her home). She’s studious and devout and again, later on, becomes a fierce wielder of magic. Basically, a 3rd century Jewish Mary Sue.
Nevertheless, Rav Hisda’s Daughter for all its faults is also an educational book. The author did their homework and even has notes on the official homepage linked to each chapter to back up the Talmudic sources each chapter draws upon. But that as well can become an issue when the book at times feels less like a coherent, gripping story and more like a semblance of a tale connecting aggadah to each other with a fair share of baraita thrown in for good measure.
The first book may be enough for most. Though if one still has an urge to see more fantastic elements come into play, then continue on at one’s own risk.
3/5
(3.5 = book one, 2.5 = book two)