Louisa

Set in Hungary and Israel after the Second World War, Louisa breathes modern life into the Old Testament. In Simone Zelitch's recasting of the Book of Ruth, a mother and her daughter-in-law--both widows--once again travel toward Israel, enduring hardship and hunger. But this time they're together in the wake of the Holocaust. Once again, the daughter-in-law, Louisa, is an alien--a German among Jews, a resilient and practical woman who finds jam for scones when no one else can, who charms enemies and authorities with her singing voice.

The story is narrated by Nora, for whom Louisa is both a blessing and a curse, a reminder of her old life. Both women loved Nora's son, Gabor, and both feel the past is their true homeland, because in the past he was alive. Shuttling back and forth between Nora's childhood, her marriage and motherhood, and the present, where she takes this strange journey with this strange girl, Louisa showcases Zelitch's storytelling gifts. Characters are loosely yet carefully drawn, and the realm of childhood is particularly vivid. Nora remembers herself as a teenager, smoking with a boy in a graveyard: "Dizzy still, heart beating fast, I stared up through the trees for a while. The sky was Prussian blue, the way it is just as the sun sets. I knew I was lying on top of a lot of dead people, and I didn't care."

Through such flashbacks, Nora's voice proves to be very strong, paving the way for a significant point-of-view problem that distracted this reader numerous times. Written in first person, the novel nevertheless takes diversions into scenes and territory Nora could not have possibly witnessed firsthand. It's as if Zelitch hasn't decided if she wants a first-person narrator or an omniscient one. For readers who find such formal problems cumbersome, Louisa could prove a difficult read. But for those hungry for new versions of the oldest stories, it's worth the trouble. --Ellen Williams