Death Had Two Sons by Yael Dayan (1967)

Whenever I travel, which I try to keep at a minimum, I like buying souvenirs. For others it’s usually some memorabilia from a tourist shop; fridge magnets, shot glass, post cards. You know, useless junk that could only be kept around for sentimental value. When I buy things for myself on a trip, however, I like to go into small independent book shops and buy a novel or two (sometimes more if they have deals on). This book was one such purchase.

I think the first positive thing I can say about this book is that the blurb doesn’t under or oversell it. It’s a poignant description, giving you just enough to want to know more withtout blatantly misleading the reader. Considering the number of blurbs I have read this year that were poor, I wanted to highlight a job well done.

As for the actual story: I feel mixed about it. On the one hand, I think it is an absolutely beautiful story about people and the complexity of (familial) relationships. I think the author does an excellent job dealing with the heavy themes of world war two and the holocaust; they never use it to evoke an unecessary emotional response, and instead use it to break your heart at the start and show you the aftermath. I also think the dialogue, while minimal, is extremely well done and that the inner lives of the characters we are privy to add so much to the decisions of said characters. On the other hand, I felt that we were introduced to so many dead ends, where characters weren’t allowed to go through full arcs (even our protagonist). I felt the ending was jarring, stopping short when there could have been at least a little more to explore. And I felt that a very heavy topic (abortion) was not given the time or nuance it deserved. For that final point, that may have been the point in the story, but it felt tacked on at the end as opposed to something that was critical to the story. So while this could have been among my favourite stories that I have read this year, it ended in a bit of a disappointing way. And while the appetizer and main are important parts of the meal, the desert is what people eat last. Endings are important, and I think this book misses the mark.

With regards to the writing, while mostly good there were some notable points where it didn’t seem proof-read. I found some pretty obvious grammatical errors, and I’m not sure if that’s on the publisher or writer or proof-reader or what but it was a bit disappointing. These were not particularly frequent, and it might be that this book is a translation that wasn’t done justice, but I did find it distracting when it did come up.

This is not a book I was ‘dying’ to read; it wasn’t even on my radar until I purchased it in a hole in the wall in Ottawa. But I also think this one will stay with me longer than others, and it’s given me more appreciation for the life I get to live and the relationships I have had and get to keep. But some themes could have been handled better, and the writing seemed unfinished in some spots.

Verdict: 3/5