Reviewed by Margaret Donsbach for historicalnovels.info
The
Midwife of Venice is an imaginative, suspenseful tale about a
sixteenth-century Jewish midwife from Venice's Ghetto Nuovo. Hannah Levi
sorely misses her merchant husband, a captive in Malta after
mercenaries attack his trading ship. "He had been fond of eating oranges
in bed, feeding her sections as they chatted. She had not washed the
blanket since Isaac had departed for the Levant to trade spices."When a Christian nobleman comes to her house by dark of night and begs her to assist his wife, Hannah knows she must turn him down or risk torture for breaking the law. Jewish midwives are forbidden to deliver Christian babies. But the nobleman has heard Hannah is a wonder worker. Indeed, she has a dangerous secret for which she could be accused of witchcraft: "her birthing spoons, two silver ladles hinged together." The spoons can save lives, but they can kill, too. "At a recent confinement, she had exerted too much pressure and had crushed the skull of the baby instead of easing it out." But the nobleman is desperate and will pay her price, a sum high enough to ransom her husband away from the Knights of Malta.
With a baby at the center of the tale, The Midwife of Venice is as fast-paced as any thriller, the childbirth scene as gripping as any battle story. Cliffhanger chapter endings bounce readers back and forth between Hannah and her husband as each faces a series of potentially deadly perils. The setting is well researched, although the way Hannah pushes boundaries and encounters one worst-case scenario after the other can make the story seem frothy and implausible. Readers willing to suspend disbelief, though, will find her a swashbuckling midwife in a novel whose pages seem almost to turn themselves. (2011; 329 pages, including a bibliography and a brief Author's Note on the historical background)
While
rifling through the bargain bin at your local bookstore for a dime
novel to read on the plane, you come across what looks like just the
right smut: a classically pulpy woman on the cover, eyes cast down to
the text in front of her. Even the title, with its exaggerated cursive
font, seems right: They Called Her Rebbe.
Once
upon a time there was a shtetl named Trochenbrod. In its heyday,
Trochenbrod, which is located in Western Ukraine just 30 kilometers
northeast of the city of Lutsk, was home to approximately 5,000 Jews,
with seven synagogues, and a rich farming culture. In typically frank
Yiddish fashion, Trochenbrod means "bread without butter."
What
do cosmetic shoulder blade surgery, flak jackets made of spider silk,
high-end shopping sprees as a stage of grief, and The Twilight Zone's
Rod Serling have in common? Nothing, perhaps, but their convergence in
Textile, a newly translated novel by celebrated Israeli writer Orly
Castel-Bloom.