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Fiction. Literature. Moll Flanders in America, this epic, intimate novel follows a young Russian immigrant determined to make her way-and find her daughter-in the hip, harsh 1920s. On a morning in 1924, a young woman rises from the floor of her family's small home in Belorussia to find her parents and her husband slaughtered beside her and her infant daughter, Sophie, missing. When her aunt tells her the baby is dead, Lillian emigrates to America. She is working as a seamstress at the Yiddish Theater and enjoying cafe society when a cousin arrives and insists that her daughter is still alive-in Siberia. Lillian cannot stop dreaming of Sophie; she feels she must get to Russia, yet she can't afford the passage. Her only friend, an actor turned tailor, steals atlases from the New York Public Library and sews them into an overcoat for her. She crosses North America by rail, truck, and foot, encountering drifters, wardens, pimps, missionaries, and tattoo artists. From Dawson City, Alaska, she sets sail for Russia. She falls in love, falls in with the wrong people, leaps before she looks, hopes hard, and refuses to give up. Inspired by a true story, Away is Moll Flanders in America and Odysseus in the Jazz Age: big, wide, brilliantly imagined, unexpectedly funny, and unforgettable.… (more)
User reviews
Lillian is smart, spunky and intelligent. She is also deeply scared from witnessing
Lillian sent her tiny daughter crawling out the window to escape and hide in the chicken coop. When Lillian is "lucky" enough to still be alive, she looks for Sophie to no avail.
Physically leaving Russia behind, she comes to America but is never able to emotionally recover from the memories and nightmares of what she witnessed in Russia.
I really tried to hang in there with every page and there was enough of a solid story and well developed characters to keep me interested.
BUT I was really bothered by the overwhelming need of the author to feel that she needed to include a graphic, racy, raunchy sexual element throughout. It was way too over the top and unnecessary for the story line. It gravely detracted from what would have been/could have been a saga of great magnitude.
And that’s just
“Lillian was twenty-two; she was an orphan, a widow, and the mother of a dead child, for which there’s not even a special word, it’s such a terrible thing.”
A terrible thing, yes, but Lillian is a survivor with an iron will. She picks herself up off the blood-slick floor and eventually makes her way to Ellis Island where she will try to make a new start in America.
Away spans the years 1924 to 1926 and follows Lillian as she finds work as a seamstress in New York’s Yiddish theater district before moving across the United States to Seattle and eventually up to Alaska. Like many a bold adventurer in literature, Lillian is on a quest and she will experience any number of setbacks, downfalls, imprisonments, beatings, starvations and other near-death episodes before she reaches her journey’s end.
The grail at the end of Lillian’s search is her three-year-old daughter, Sophie, believed to have died shortly after the rest of her family was killed. Lillian’s cousin, however, has come to America with the news that Sophie is alive and was rescued by another Jewish family who survived the pogrom. Upon hearing the news fall from her cousin‘s lips, Bloom writes, Lillian reels from the shock: “Sophie’s name is a match to dry wood.”
With that flame of love rekindled, Lillian sets off across America by herself on a harebrained scheme to travel to Alaska where she will walk across the Bering Strait back to her native Russia to find her daughter. With maps sewn into the lining of her overcoat and the weight of a mother‘s love on her shoulders, she is also walking across a panorama of America in the 1920s.
Bloom has created a world that is so real, so palpable that reading Away is just one gigawatt short of actual time travel. Undoubtedly, the author spent countless hours researching everything from how a mistress’ Lower East Side apartment would be decorated (red-and-pink flowered carpeting with a green damask settee, for starters) to the way light falls in an Alaskan forest (“in narrow green spears through the woods and spreads like a shining stain, a baleful white canopy, sheer and bright, in the open”). These and a million other details are seamlessly stitched into the narrative and lend the novel a rich, authoritative atmosphere.
In fact, the tapestry of Away is so well done, it’s often hard to see the tree for the forest. By tree, I mean, of course, Lillian herself. Throughout the book, the character remains an enigma, oddly held at arm’s length by an author who rarely pierces beneath the skin of someone who should be a turmoil of emotions. Instead, we get a copy of an illustration of a portrait of a woman.
That, unfortunately, is the one thing that gives Away an unmistakable limp. Lillian is haunted by the loss of her family (“Everyone has two memories. The one you can tell and the one that is stuck to the underside of that, the dark, tarry smear of what happened.”), and her grief and devastation come through, but for the most part she remains an oyster that cannot be pried open. I admired her bravery and her fiery feminism in the Jazz Age world of men who treated women as sex objects, but ultimately Lillian gets lost in the beautifully-written world in which she lives.
Lillian is not an “accidental heroine” as the blurb describes her, she’s sleepwalking through the book. Her only reaction to almost everything is numbness. Lillian does have a tragic past - losing her whole family, including her daughter (who later is supposed to have been saved and taken away from the village by another family), in a pogrom - and perhaps her attitude is supposed to show her absolute numbness to life because of past events. This does not make for much of a main character in this case, because there’s nothing compelling about someone who just stumbles from one odious situation to another with little to no reaction. Everything is ok with her, although ok is perhaps too strong of a word. Nothing is worth objecting to and everything is at least tolerable. I think the author was trying to show that she was willing to put up with anything in order to get her daughter back, but it isn’t very convincing. She doesn’t seem to have any thoughts of her own, any reactions to what is happening to her. She’s willing to put up with anything, but it doesn’t end up feeling like she’s willing to do this because she’s so focused on her daughter, but rather because she’s so two-dimensional she just doesn’t care about anything.
I’m trying to think if there was anything I liked about the book. The cover was nice (although I suppose the author has little say over that), the prose was decent enough, and I did like her technique for dismissing supporting characters from the stage. As a character was no longer needed, she would quickly sum up some “high” (really low) points of the character’s life and then move back to Lillian. It was sort of an interesting technique, and I rather liked how it tied off the characters when they were no longer needed. But as you can probably guess, I really don’t recommend wasting your money and particularly your time on this book.
From the back of the book:
Panoramic in scope, Away is the epic and intimate story of young Lillian Leyb, a dangerous innocent, an accidental heroine. When her family is destroyed in a Russian
This is the second of Bloom's books I've read. The first was her collection of short stories, WHERE THE GOD OF LOVE HANGS OUT, and I'm happy to report she is as good a novelist as she is a short story writer.
Bloom is a psychotherapist, and her knowledge of how the human mind and psyche work serve her well as a writer. Actions here feel credible, even in extraordinary circumstances. The author's understanding of what motives people is put to excellent use.
Then too, the landscape and historical period is well-depicted, and she, like her heroine covers a lot of ground -- from Russia to New York to Dawson, from Jewish immigrants to Tlingits living in a B.C. cabin.
I am impressed by Bloom's use of the third person omniscient, which is a point of view easy to get wrong. There is perhaps one misstep, when she veers a little farther off-track than is necessary with the story of a woman named "Chinky Chang". It's interesting and moving, but in the end made me anxious to get back to Lillian. For the most part, however, she manages it admirably, and it gives the book not only a depth that mirrors the vast geographical territory it covers, but also the spiritual and psychological landscape.
On top of that, it was a riveting read that had me turning pages quickly. Enjoy.
My favorite part of the book was meeting the supporting characters, those who help Lillian with her struggles. They're all flawed in some way, but you can't help being drawn to them, wanting to spend time with them.
I think I'll be pulling Come to Me off my bookshelf any day now so I can get another Bloom fix.
Bloom’s descriptive prose gives the reader a true sense of time and place, as we move from New York to Seattle to Alaska. Lillian touches on the lives of many memorable, quirky characters, like Gumdrop Brown, a petite black prostitute who caters to men interested in prepubescent girls; Chinky Chang, a young grifter with a soft spot for Lillian; and Reuben Burstein, a Yiddish theater mogul. While her time with them is short-lived, Bloom generously gives us a glimpse into each of their futures after Lillian has moved on.
Bloom’s roots as a short-story writer show—each of the transient characters has his or her own discrete story, with those stories stitched together by Lillian’s journey. As is the danger with quirky characters, their stories sometimes veer towards unbelievability, but Bloom’s sparkling prose and rich storytelling overcome this.
Away is not for the squeamish. Lillian is crushed by the weight of her love for those she’s lost, and for the most part is beyond caring what happens to her body and her soul. But, along with the destructive, Bloom celebrates the redemptive power of love. Those who are willing to take this journey with Lillian will be rewarded.
This book was OK, but it just never really grabbed me. The story itself was interesting enough, and some of the episodes within the plot were very well told. But the book as a whole felt a little choppy. I liked Lillian and rooted for her, but I never really felt like I got to know her. And the ending was somewhat disappointing. The story ended somewhat abruptly, and the fates of the characters were summarized in just a few pages at the end of the book. I wonder if this book might have worked better for me in print than on audio.
It is always like this: the best parties are made by people in trouble.
There are one hundred and fifty girls lining the sidewalk outside the Goldman Theatre. They spill into the street and down to the corners and Lillian Leyb, who has spent her first thirty-five days in this
Lillian Leyb steals your heart and makes it ache as you follow her adventures and disappointments as she makes her way across the country from NYC and into Canada. She's searching for the four yr old daughter she thought was left dead after her Jewish village was ravaged in 1920s Russia.
I was puzzled by all the "green" early in the story--green dress, green curtains, green this and that. Then no green during her horrendous journey across the country, not until, "The light in the woods is a thick, wavering green." Ah ha, green is life and hope.
The novels leading lady, Lillian Leyb, a 22-year-old Jewish immigrant, flees Russia after her entire family is slaughtered in a Russian pogram. The story however opens in 1924 New York at Ellis Island as she makes her way into her new country. The story of her
The novel is chalked full of supporting characters that assist Leyb in one-way or another in her journey. Each of these supporting characters life story is summed up and tied into a neat little bow before they exited stage left. The story was hurried in its pacing, which left this reader feeling like she was running to keep up with the characters. I am not sure if this was intentional or not. In the beginning of the story the long sentences set a fast pace that did seem to match the hurried pace of the environment that the character was stepping into. The novel is a quick witted and gritty look at the people on the bottom rung of the latter who will do anything to survive. In conclusion, this reader was not able to connect with the main character, Leyb, who seemed closed off not only to the supporting characters but to the readers as well. The supportive characters seemed to have more life and energy and engage the reader. This reader like the supporting characters felt abandoned and left behind.
Having learned that her daughter, Sophie, is still alived, she crossed the country, going up north, in the Klondike world, in search for her.
Beautifully
When her family is destroyed in a Russian pogrom, young Lillian Leyb comes to America alone, determined to make her way in a new land. When word comes that her daughter, Sophie, might still be alive, Lillian embarks on a journey that takes her from the world of the
Bloom's fictional characters remain with you long after you have finished her book -- ebullient Reuben Burstein, who rules his theater kingdom with an iron hand and accepts the homosexuality of his handsome son, Meyer, with a matter of fact equanimity unusual for the times (1920's); saucy Gumdrop, a Seattle "professional" who saves Lillian from begging in the streets; lonely Arthur Gilpin, a widowed constable with a heart of gold; "Chinky" Chang, a would-be grifter who knows just how to "work" Mrs. Mortimer, the warden of the Hazelton Center for Women, into an acquiescent mood; and John Bishop, a good man who has escaped into the Alaskan wilderness to escape a bad situation.
I particularly liked Bloom's female characters -- these bright, resilient women refuse to sink into the mind trap of "victimhood" despite living in a time when single women were faced with a multitude of degrading options. I also thought that Bloom's depiction of men was evenhanded and insightful -- her male characters are complex and run the gamut from shifty to saintly, most often falling somewhere in the middle.
Read this book -- it's a literary page turner!!!
Bloom weaves in some interesting characters who then disappear from the plot as Lillian moves on. Her quick synopsis of the rest of the life of each of these characters not only left me puzzled each time, but also gave away the fact that one character would return because we don't get the rundown of what happened to him or her next.
Bloom did a remarkable job of shifting from viewpoint to viewpoint without making the reader dizzy. I think the way she ended it is interesting, and apart from the beginning (what was she thinking?) it was well-written.