I struggled a little bit with this book. Somewhat like SY Agnon's "Only Yesterday," this novel starts with a Jew coming to pre-state Palestine out of ideological conviction. It's more a novel of ideas than it is of character development, which made it difficult for me to lose myself in.
But there's certainly a lot going on in this non-linear narrative. Protagonist Shula recounts her family history, starting with her great-grandfather who moves to Jerusalem in the 1860s, all the way up, and surpassing her father's decision to move west to England. We cover wars, marriages, love affairs and perhaps most significantly, great-grandfather, Rev Shalom Shepher's quest to find the ten lost tribes of Israel. He returns to Jerusalem after two years with a codex, a version of the Torah, which drives a lot of the plot of the present day narrative.
In the present, the crumbling family home is about to be sold for demolition, and relatives and others gather to argue over who has rights to the codex. Shula is a biblical scholar, and she adds an analytical note to those who claim it more out of familial squabbles or religious conviction. But Yellin does paint a lyrical world tinged with history and spirituality. I don't think it's possible to write about searching for the ten lost tribes without straying into the fantastical; since reading "The Angel of Losses" by Stephanie Feldman, I've been struck by this notion that reuniting with our mysteriously disappeared brethren is a unique fount of Jewish fantasy.
Questions of authenticity and humanity litter this book--the codex is one of many Torah variations, and characters in the story (and surely the real world) vie over which one is "true." Yellin, a biblical scholar like her protagonist, takes, to my mind, a more fascinating approach by considering all of them, and what they say about the multi-faceted Jewish experience. She also includes some exegesis about Moses--I'm vaguely aware that these stories appear somewhere in Jewish texts--where he grapples with the limits of his humanity. Including after he's dead, because though he was a major player in writing down the 5 Books of Moses, there's no way he could keep current with all of the Jewish literature and history that followed. I saw this as proof that we are imperfect, and that our culture is vast.
But narratives about all of the characters had a sort of folkloric tint--like Rev Shalom's sickness when he wasn't traveling for spiritual enlightenment, his diet of figs and his wife's detailed vinegar business. As we move through the generations, Shula's other paternal forebears get little vignettes, and the women, save perhaps for her Aunt Miriam, get even less. Said females seem to blend together after awhile as unattractive and unlearned shadows for the men, and it all felt a little shallow to me. Shula, of course, had the most character depth--besides for her interaction with the plot, she's also struggling with a lost love affair, a strained relationship with her brother and feeling like the last Generation of the Shephers, and her nebulous feelings about her life in England vs her family history in Jerusalem.
I read Yellin's short stories, "Tales of the Ten Lost Tribes," several years ago and I think they worked better for me. Short stories allow the creative space to explore faith and belonging in these lyrical, spiritual terms. To sustain the length of the novel, I think I needed people to be a little more fleshed out and grounded.