4 out of 4 stars
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Hidden:Nistar by Batya Casper is my first official review for the Online Book Club and I feel extremely fortunate to have chosen this particular book, because it is unlike anything I have ever read before.
I had an Aunt who corresponded with me for two decades and she had the amazing gift of being able to both read and write between the lines. It is a gift that the author of Hidden:Nistar, Batya Casper also possesses to a great decree.
This story begins in a rather common way when we are confronted by a dead body crumpled at the bottom of a flight of stairs. And from that moment on we leave “common” behind and are discovering unusual characters, enigmatic circumstances, a child as the main narrator and rich dialogue where that reading-between-the-lines skill will come in very handy. It did leave me with a distinct “is-the-room-spinning-or-is-it-me?” feeling for a few pages, but if you can get past the initial feeling of being slightly off balance, you will soon find yourself in the stream of a story that is as fascinating as any who-dun-it but for very different reasons.
It’s a good thing to feel slightly dizzy at the beginning of this book because it takes place in the first heddy and chaotic years of Israel’s birth as a nation when it also was attempting to find its footing. We are led to this historical place and time through the events touching the lives of the Lazamof family. Particularly it’s youngest member, Tikvah. And that is the true brilliance of author Batya Casper in this book. Because by allowing little Tikvah to take on the role of the central character, we see so many things mainly from her viewpoint, and are given a story rife with dramatic irony. We older members of the reading audience can understand more fully the situations and implications of what is happening. But poor, innocent Tikvah is left to believe that her questions are being mostly unanswered and even ignored, when they are merely being answered in a way she is still too young to understand. This is demonstrated during a conversation she has with her grandmother as they walk home together from the local cemetery.
“Are my parents buried in there?”
“No, dear.” Mrs. L never called her “dear.”
“Your parents are
buried in the desert.”
“What were they doing in the desert?”
“Protecting our country from harm.”
“Both of them?”
“Yes.”
“Did they die together?”
“Yes. They wanted to because they loved each other a lot.”
“What did they die of?”
“Your father died of bravery, your mother of gentleness.”
“Gentleness?”
“Yes, gentle people get called from this world earlier than others.”
“Mr. L is gentle.”
“And brave too, though not overly so. He’s the right amount of gentle and brave for this world.”
“Mrs. L. She’s enough to make you scream.”
To Tikvah it is just another frustrating exchange with her Satva (or Grandmother), but to us as adults, we know that there is much more to it.
And, if you are wondering how the author deals with the topic of the multi-generational long conflict between the Jews and Arabs, you just read it.
At this point I should also mention that there is no explicit violence or language in this book. Following is the first example of a swear I found and I’m not the one who blanked it out.
“Noam told him he “thould thleep downthtairth.” Mr. L yelled at them, “Who the h——l appointed you parents over me? He stomped out the kitchen.”
Also, I want to mention about typos. I thought I had come across several but in this same example we are dealing with a character who has a lisp and his dialogue is written accordingly. We are also dealing with the Hebrew language, which can often look like a typo to our untrained English eyes.
Below is the only typo I actually found and I discovered someone had already made a notation about it.
“when she had no money, she simply sat at atable watching the people. On page 85
This is a rather difficult book to review because it is too unusual to fit the mold of a regular story. I’m not suggesting that it doesn’t actually contain a plot or that the majority of the questions posed don’t get satisfactorily answered. Questions such as, how did Tikvah come to live with her grandparents, who are the trays of food being left outside the second bedroom door for and what is the identity of the original narrator of the book who is apparently speaking to us from beyond the grave?
But Casper’s devices of using flashbacks within flashbacks, referring to a person by different names depending on who is addressing them (Mr.Lazamof, Mr. L and Saba) and having people from different generations committing the same actions as their child or parent, these created both a challenge and a lot of curiosity. But somehow Casper keeps all these different plates spinning without dropping any or making us dizzy while we witness her feats of literary leger de main.
Another clever device used by Batya Casper is her ability to describe the true depth of a situation by something as seemingly surface and incidental as the way they are dressed.
“Regardless of blood, Noam and Michael visited each year on the High Holidays. Each year, Noam brought Tikvah licorice, the large red rope kind, her favorite, and a new dress; and Michael, new shoes, always the same, shiny black with delicate straps and tiny silver buckles, and pale blue ribbons for her hair so beautiful they made her feel like fiction—like an unreal girl in a story book.”
And a little bit later, through the words of Tikvah and her Saba,
“In Russia,” he told Tikvah, “clothes signified something,”
though he never told her what.
The village they lived in was only four streets square. All we need do, Tikvah thought, is walk half a mile, and we’ll reach the twentieth century where fashion is available and tempting in any store. But that hadn’t happened since she’d been around. And she’d
been around for as long as she could remember. It was clear to her that Mr. Lazamof’s Israel had failed him in the style department.”
And still later, about her Grandfather,
“He had a silver pocket watch threaded through his buttonhole and hidden in his vest pocket where it ticked like a dislodged heart on all except summer days. The only things he wore in summer were undershirts and
shorts held up by a broad leather belt. A handkerchief peeked permanently from his back pants pocket.
“That?” he told Tikvah, “that’s my flag of surrender.”
The second examples demonstrate Casper’s view of why she spends a good deal of time describing a character’s appearance and also her subtle, dry wit and humor that permeates this entire book. But this is certainly not to imply that Casper shies away from the “big” questions. In fact, the majority of this book and the exciting events they depict are there to illuminate us to the “big” questions.
“It was like the story Mr. Lazamof had told her, which she never did understand, of the tree that falls in the forest without making a noise. The thing is—and she knew it was strange, way too strange to tell anyone—so many times she sensed in the deepest part of herself that she, Tikvah, was that self same tree. Sometimes—that precise moment was an example—she felt herself falling, and though she was absolutely certain a scream was reverberating throughout her body and brain loud enough for the angels above (which she hoped existed) to hear her, she couldn’t. Couldn’t hear the sound. Couldn’t hear the noise she was making. No one could.”
Even though this story deals with hard issues like what is our purpose in life, how does faith fit in, why is there war and death, there is nothing scary or macabre about it. Just like when you are recovering from a nightmare but being held by the arms of a parent who loves you and the light has been turned on, it is the same here with Batya. She takes us through some very difficult scenes that will come close to breaking your heart, but not in a surface or cheap thrills way. While Casper weaves her story of family love and comfort, the light is on and you are safe enough to look at the very real and dark questions you may have been wanting to ask yourself.
Just like Batya Casper kept returning to the description of clothes to emphasize something, my mind kept returning to food. “Hidden:Nistar” reminded me of preparing an onion for the cooking pot. Each layer you remove may cause you to cry, but that’s the only way to get to its flavor and goodness. There is no doubt that Casper is serving up a sumptuous and scrumptious meal for us. This book is not that long (278 pages) and because you learn to care so much for this family and what ‘they’ want to tell us, you will be tempted to rush through it like any other page-turner, but I caution you not to. Like any good meal, you should take the time to appreciate the food in your mouth and get the full taste of what you are being served. Doing it the first way will leave you sated and satisfied, but the other way will just give you a big, nasty tummy ache. Batya Casper will not force feed you all that she thinks you should eat, but has enough wisdom to create a welcoming atmosphere, present the food to you then allow you to choose what you want and how you want to consume it. If I may be so bold as to speak for the author, Casper seems more intent that you travel on this journey than that you accept everything that she writes and believes without any questions of your own. Perhaps, just like little Tikvah, there are certain things we are just not ready to see and understand yet.
The one thing I kept from you during this review is that to get all you can from Hidden:Nistar by Batya Casper you will require some patience. Patience to take your time and not rush to the end of the story. Patience for certain resolutions in the Lazamof family legacy to be presented to you gradually and when the time is ripe. And ultimately the patience to accept that there are some truths we are not ready to accept until we have another visit with the Lazamofs at some future date. That is the true hallmark of a classic. Not only will it withstand the test of time, but will still have something new and fresh and different to bestow on each following generation that discovers it. Which is what every Hidden treasure should do.
But here’s one question I’m sure you already know the answer to: How many stars have I given to Hidden:Nistar by Batya Casper? Right you are. I have given it 4 out of 4 stars. And if I could find some way to grab a fifth star from somewhere else to give to this book, I’d do that too. But for now, I simply thank you for giving me the opportunity to read this book and so much of your precious time to read my “Official Review” of Hidden:Nistar by Batya Casper.
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Hidden: Nistar
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