lannamichaels: Astronaut Dale Gardner holds up For Sale sign after EVA. (Default)
Lanna Michaels ([personal profile] lannamichaels) wrote2024-01-20 08:33 pm
Entry tags:

Mr Rosenblum's List, Or, Friendly Guidance For The Aspiring Englishman by Natasha Solomons (2010)



Jack, Sadie, and infant Elizabeth Rosenblum arrive in England from Berlin in 1937, the only ones of their families to make it out; no one else was able to get exit visas. Jack devotes himself to assimilating perfectly, revising a list he got from a refugee pamphlet as he goes. However, he learns that no matter how much you assimilate, you're still a Jew. And so he sells his home in London and buys a country property, all without telling his wife, so he can build his own golf course. None of the ones he has applied to will let him in, you see. And he's never actually golfed. But to be an Englishman, you must belong to a golf course. This is an unwritten rule that Jack has observed as existing in practice and so he diligently tries to follow it.

This is a book about survival. Jack is endlessly focused on the future and that fact that he very rarely thinks on who has been massacred and what has been destroyed is highlighted by Sadie's decades-long mourning and depression. They have so little in common as the years go on and can barely relate to each other, but they rely strongly on each other still being there, and Sadie especially relies on Jack's endless optimism as a touchstone and a reason to keep going; when she is in crisis and nearly accidentally kills herself, Jack is the one who rescues her and saves her life. They do not have a good marriage, but neither of them ever thinks of leaving each other; they both know they need each other, because there's no one else left.

Jack would be an infuriating character if it were not so clear to him and to the reader why he keeps pressing on and doing as he does. These are two characters responding to what happened and continues to happen. No matter what, Jack is still the Jew, and the best thing that happens to him because of being Jewish is being invited to drinks at someone's house so everyone can laugh at him and his strange, earnest ways, and then later undermine his attempts at building a golf course.

The golf course is, of course, a symbol. Another character even points out that if it's golfing he wants, he can join a Jewish golf club. But it's not about golf. It's about Becoming English, as defined by written and unwritten rules, in order for himself and his family to survive.

Before building the golf course, Jack has never played golf. He doesn't play a single second of golf until the golf course is completed and opened. He doesn't even practice. Because this is never, ever, ever actually about golf.

I don't understand the pull quote on the front calling the book "hilarious" and on the back calling it "very funny". While there is occasional humor, this book is a tragedy. I burst out crying three times, the second bad enough to have to clean my glasses, and the third requiring a long break to decide if I wanted to push through to the end or if I should just leave it be.

This book is only not a complete tragedy because it ends triumphantly for Jack's goals. But even then, the epilogue has Sadie buried on a hill outside of a cemetery (because even after fifty years in England, she won't be buried in a churchyard -- and those are the only two options?), and her grave is marked by a flagpole, and explicitly not with a gravestone. This, after the book takes pains earlier to describe the fate of the massacred family members as not having graves or gravestones.

So, in the end, Sadie assimilated fully, gave up everything that made her different, lost even the three photos of her family and the last gift her mother ever gave her, and to show for it, even she doesn't get a gravestone.

And what's the full assimilation like for Jack? He fails to assimilate into London, but assimilates into village life in the Dorset countryside, which is symbolized by, in other things, constantly drinking alcohol from a flask, because that's how you fit in.

I will note that I give this book a completely free pass on something that I usually hate: it renders low-class/poor people's accents phonetically. This makes it hard to understand some characters, including a Heartfelt And Plot Important Deathbed Note Written Down By Someone Who Talks In An Accent, but the book is doing it for a very clear purpose. These people are allowed to have accents that mark them as different. These people are allowed to speak an English that is not fully "correct". These people are allowed to mock and ignore the law. These people are indisputably Englishmen, and Jack can never, ever, actually fully become one of them, because his accent he can't get rid of marks him as foreign, even when he gets rid of everything, including both his first and his last name, that marks him as the Jew.

And this is partially why their daughter is able to assimilate completely while Jack and Sadie never fully can: she's doesn't remember what they've lost, and Jack was so adamant on assimilation that Sadie had to pick and choose what she could share with their daughter, and chose German fairytales and light family stories. Elizabeth has nothing to give up to become English; her parents gave it up on her behalf: her birth name when they came over, everything else afterward. So she sheds her last name, as the only remnant connecting her to Berlin, and that's nothing to her to have done. Meanwhile, Jack and Sadie are both wracked with emotion when they follow her into the last name change, because for them, it's not giving up nothing.

This book is a tragedy, and part of the "happy" ending is that the golf course returns to the land in the end anyway. Which makes sense, since Jack didn't buy it with the idea of making it a golf course, decided to turn it into one only after that, and the terrain was completely unsuited to becoming a golf course. It got shoved that way anyway. Possibly another metaphor, I guess.

rosefox: Green books on library shelves. (Default)

[personal profile] rosefox 2024-01-21 06:57 am (UTC)(link)
Oof and double oof.

My grandparents, who it sounds like were of an age with Jack and Sadie, were The Jews of their West Hartford suburbanite set. They were allowed to join the country club and play golf and tennis there, which they did with gusto (I recall multiple trophies displayed in their house); it probably helped that they were the children or grandchildren of immigrants and had correct New England accents. But they were still The Jews, and so were my mother and uncle in their posh gender-segregated schools.

I wonder what my mother would think of this book.
rydra_wong: Lee Miller photo showing two women wearing metal fire masks in England during WWII. (Default)

[personal profile] rydra_wong 2024-01-21 12:56 pm (UTC)(link)
My grandparents (Jewish and half-Jewish respectively, but from families that were agnostic or atheist-leaning) went for sending their children to Church of England schools and simply not telling them they were Jewish, on the grounds that this was the easier option.

My dad's big teenage rebellion was declaring that he wasn't going to be confirmed; he stormed home and was somewhat startled when his parents' response was "Fine with us, and by the way we're Jewish anyway."

One of the many ironies is that they did this while remaining, in terms of culture, stereotypically Jewish in the European upper-middle-class intellectual argumentative art-collecting mode (the Jewish side of the family being Dutch and Polish). My grandmother loved being more-Continental-than-thou at everyone.

So, yeah. People made some very strange and complicated choices about assimilation.
rydra_wong: Lee Miller photo showing two women wearing metal fire masks in England during WWII. (Default)

[personal profile] rydra_wong 2024-01-21 12:37 pm (UTC)(link)
But even then, the epilogue has Sadie buried on a hill outside of a cemetery (because even after fifty years in England, she won't be buried in a churchyard -- and those are the only two options?)

Hmm. There are plenty of Jewish cemeteries in the UK, especially in London, as well as multi-faith cemeteries, including (I did a quick Google) two cemeteries in Dorset with specific Jewish sections that were open in the '80s.

So that only makes sense if it's a specific choice that says something about the character, that she doesn't want to be buried in either a churchyard or a multi-faith or Jewish cemetery?
rydra_wong: Lee Miller photo showing two women wearing metal fire masks in England during WWII. (Default)

[personal profile] rydra_wong 2024-01-22 09:45 am (UTC)(link)
Yeah, having not read the book I was wondering if it was a character choice, but if so you'd have to make it clear that the character is rejecting the other options -- if the author is just assuming that those other options don't exist, that seems like a massive failure of logic or research.

Also I'm assuming that the hill is private land which the family owns, because you definitely can't just bury someone on a random hill in the UK. And "burial on private land" is legal mainly because of wealthy families with mausoleums on their estates; it would be unusual for anyone not in that demographic.

Again, could be a character choice, but I feel like you'd have to explain how and why she put in the work to ensure that this unusual plan was carried out by her executors after her death.
liv: Bookshelf labelled: Caution. Hungry bookworm (bookies)

[personal profile] liv 2024-01-21 03:42 pm (UTC)(link)
I'm so interested in your reaction to this, thank you for posting about it. I thought it was basically a tragedy with a tacked-on "happy ending", but then I'm not sure I would have coped reading it if Sadie had actually drowned or if it had ended in a more realistic way, with them having to sell up and move back to London.

Broadly all Survivor stories have this problem: the narrative really wants you to believe it's a happy outcome when the protagonist escapes from Nazi persecution, but you can't get away from the fact that the Nazis murdered literally everybody else. This is why I mostly only read non-fiction about the Shoah; I was prepared to give this one a go because it's about Jewish immigrants in England more than it's about the actual Shoah, and in some ways I admire Solomons for sticking so doggedly to no matter how much you assimilate, you're still a Jew. I've read a lot of stuff that's straightforwardly celebratory of how wonderful it is that people were able to make a new life in England. Like, a there's a little anecdote in the back of our siddur about a young man going to a party where there are a lot of boring middle-aged people talking about house prices and neighbourhood minutiae, and the host points out to him that it's actually a reunion for child refugees, and that only a few years back these people were so traumatized they couldn't sleep for screaming. And isn't that wonderful, that they got to grow up to be middle-class and staid and boring? That's the narrative, and I appreciate that Mr Rosenblum's List pushes back on it. But yes, it made me cry a lot too, and I'm a little sorry for prompting you to read something so upsetting.
chestnut_pod: A close-up photograph of my auburn hair in a French braid (Default)

[personal profile] chestnut_pod 2024-01-24 09:45 pm (UTC)(link)
This sounds like it really sticks to its guns, which I respect… and also, I don't think I have the mettle to face it right now.