A dazzling Sephardic multigenerational saga that moves from Istanbul to Barcelona, Havana, and New York, exploring displacement, endurance, and family as home.
A kaleidoscopic portrait of one family’s displacement across four countries, Kantika—“song� in Ladino—follows the joys and losses of Rebecca Cohen, feisty daughter of the Sephardic elite of early 20th-century Istanbul. When the Cohens lose their wealth and are forced to move to Barcelona and start anew, Rebecca fashions a life and self from what comes her way—a failed marriage, the need to earn a living, but also passion, pleasure and motherhood. Moving from Spain to Cuba to New York for an arranged second marriage, she faces her greatest challenge—her disabled stepdaughter, Luna, whose feistiness equals her own and whose challenges pit new family against old.
Exploring identity, place and exile, Kantika also reveals how the female body—in work, art and love—serves as a site of both suffering and joy. A haunting, inspiring meditation on the tenacity of women, this lush, lyrical novel from Elizabeth Graver celebrates the insistence on seizing beauty and grabbing hold of one’s one and only life.
Elizabeth Graver’s novel, Kantika, is a multigenerational saga that moves from Istanbul to Barcelona, Havana and New York, exploring displacement, endurance, and family as home. Inspired by the life story of the author’s maternal grandmother Rebecca, Kantika was selected by the New York Times as a 2023 Best Historical Novel and Notable Book of the Year, and by NPR as a Best Book of 2023 and translated into Turkish and German. Kantika was awarded a National Jewish Book Award, the Edward Lewis Wallant Prize, the Julia Ward Howe Prize and the Massachusetts Book Award. Elizabeth Graver's previous novel, The End of the Point, set in a summer community on Buzzard’s Bay from 1942 to 1999, was on the long list for the 2013 National Book Award and a New York Times Notable Book. She is the author of three other novels: Awake, The Honey Thief, and Unravelling. Her short story collection, Have You Seen Me?, won the 1991 Drue Heinz Literature Prize. Her work has been anthologized in Best American Short Stories, Prize Stories: The O. Henry Awards, The Pushcart Prize Anthology, and Best American Essays. Her story “The Mourning Door� was award the Cohen Prize from Ploughshares Magazine. The mother of two daughters, she teaches English and Creative Writing at Boston College.
I have been curious about the history and culture of the Sephardic Jews for some time. Kantika, (which means song in the Ladino dialect) by Elizabeth Graver explored those themes and so much more. It was a multigenerational saga that began in Istanbul during the early twentieth century. Author, Elizabeth Graver, transported her readers from Istanbul to Barcelona, Spain, to Havana, Cuba and finally to New York as the Cohen family moved, evolved, assimilated as best they could and adjusted to their new circumstances with each new move.
Rebecca Cohen grew up in a loving family in Istanbul. Her father was respected and he provided his family with a wealthy lifestyle. Although ReBecca and her sister and brothers were brought up observing the Sabbath and the various Jewish traditions and holidays, they all attended a Catholic school. Hard times hit Istanbul and Jewish families began to leave. Rebecca’s best friend and her family went to America and settled in New York. More than anything, ReBecca wanted her family to follow her best friend’s family to America but it was not to be. Rebecca’s father had no interest in moving until he lost all his wealth. By that time, Rebecca’s father was offered only one destination. His family was displaced to Barcelona, Spain. Generations ago, Spain had persecuted the Jews and ousted them from their country. Now here they were returning to a country that had hated them and made them flee all those years ago. Rebecca’s father was forced to accept a menial labor position as the custodian of the synagogue. The family would live in the synagogue and her father would take care of its upkeep. Rebecca’s father was so embarrassed by the turn his life had taken but he was offered no other choice but to accept this decision and abide by its terms. The Cohen family packed up what they could manage to take with them and began a new life in Barcelona.
Life in Barcelona was not easy and the family had a hard time adjusting to their new life. Rebecca secured work as a seamstress. Before long, ReBecca met a Jewish man and they were married. They had two sons together. Her marriage was not a happy one though. Her husband often abandoned her for long periods of time. Rebecca discovered that her husband was not very smart and that he lied to her on several occasions. After only a few years of marriage, ReBecca found herself a widow. She was forced to move back in with her parents. Rebecca’s mother helped her with the care of her sons so Rebecca could venture out and earn money. She had become a very adept seamstress so she tried to find a job using those skills. In order to secure a job, ReBecca was forced to use an alias name and wear simple and unassuming clothing.
Upon Rebecca’s oldest sister’s urging, ReBecca entertained an arranged marriage proposal. Rebecca was to travel from Barcelona to Havana to meet her potential new husband. She would travel alone and leave her sons with her mother. If the potential husband was to Rebecca’s liking, her sons would follow her to America accompanied by her mother. If the new husband was not satisfactory, Rebecca would return to Barcelona. The new suitor had been her best friend’s husband until she died giving birth to her daughter. Rebecca ended up choosing to marry and moved to New York with her new husband. Her biggest and most significant challenge was about to be presented to Rebecca. Before marrying, Rebecca’s new husband had told her that his daughter had been born disabled. However, she never imagined to what degree that meant. When Rebecca was initially introduced to Luna she was overwhelmed with anxiety and uncertainty. Would Luna and Rebecca warm to each other? How would they change and impact each other’s lives?
Kantika was the first book that I had the pleasure of reading by Elizabeth Graver. I listened to the audiobook that was very well narrated by Gail Shalan. Elizabeth Graver based her novel, Kantika, on her own Grandmother Rebecca’s life and journey that ultimately brought her to America. Rebecca Cohen proved to be a strong Sephardic Turkish woman who endured much but was able to rise above and overcome her fears, difficulties and challenges. Kantika was about family, a sense of belonging, home, love, exile, displacement, and enduring the difficult times. I really enjoyed listening to the audiobook of Kantika and recommend it if you enjoy historical fiction.
Thank you to Dreamscape Media LLC for allowing me to listen to Kantika by Elizabeth Graver through Netgalley in exchange for an honest review. All opinions expressed in this review are completely my own.
Gorgeous details enrich this epic about a Jewish family and their journey beginning in Constantinople with its stone houses and gardens, and ancient graves. Graver restores a lost time and place along with host of extraordinary characters--first among them the indomitable Rebecca, a wife, mother, seamstress, and artist. Hers is both an immigrant story and a hero's journey as she travels between worlds and finds a way to refashion her own life.
A sweeping, multi-generational story of a Sephardic family (based on the author's own family) spanning Turkey, Spain, and the US from the start of the 20th century through the end of WWII.
This was an ambitions novel, and I ended up enjoying it!
The book mainly follows Rebecca, but over the course of the book we see a couple different generations trying their best to build–and hold together–their families in the face of loss, migration, war, and marginalization. The book opens in Constantinople in 1907 with Rebecca's mother Sultana raising her young family in the vibrant Mediterranean city. As the tone shifts and attitudes towards the Jewish population turn sour they leave for Spain, the city that centuries earlier would have been considered their homeland. But there too, things are uncertain, and Rebecca eventually makes her way over to the US where she is next to raise her own young family into adulthood.
I'm not a big historical fiction person normally, but I did get drawn in by the focus on a Sephardic Jewish family. It took me a bit of time to get into this book, truth be told, but I really got drawn in during the second half of the book after leaving Spain.
Overall, I really enjoyed getting to know the characters, how their lives and paths intertwined, their inner lives vs how they presented themselves to others. I loved the descriptions of the different cities they traveled through, especially Istanbul/Constantinople. I thought the writing was very good, with some particularly impactful standout lines (eg, "splitting chicken breasts in one blow with a steel cleaver. Is that bone-cracking rage on top of grief?")
My favorite narration perspective that we got was from Luna–I thought her perspective as someone with a physical disability in that time period was particularly interesting and engaging. How she and Rebecca interpreted their relationship in such different ways was a compelling dynamic and those were the parts where I found myself glued to the book.
Because I had a hard time getting into the beginning, but was feeling beautiful swells of emotion by the end, I think I'd average out to about a 3.75, rounded up to 4. I'd highly recommend this to people who enjoy multi-generational stories like Pachinko.
Thanks to NetGalley and Henry Holt & Company, Metropolitan Books for this ARC to read and review.
This book was pleasant enough but not my thing at the end of the day.
I listened to an ARC of the audio version read by Gail Shalan. My only tiny bugbear about this was the male voices who all sounded as though they were talking through their teeth. Otherwise it was a good, clear, often impassioned reading that I enjoyed. I recognise how hard it is for men to do women's voices and vice versa.
The book for me for a little short of great though. The story, I've read, is based on the author's family, so it's hard to critique actual family history. It simply felt rushed. I would have been happier with longer spent on each section. The section in the US was interesting and the children's parts were more compelling than the adults.
However it was the end that really disappointed me. It was as though the author simply got tired of writing whereas I wanted to know what happened next. This feels like it could have done being a two part or even three part historical fiction.
Based closely on author Elizabeth Graver’s personal family history, Kantika follows Rebecca Cohen, the daughter of Sephardic Turkish Jews from Istanbul, through 20th century turmoil and unexpected displacement. The historical scope interwoven is rich, drawing parallels with the terrible scourge which the Jews experienced in Spain in the 13th Century, creating the diaspora in Turkey by those who left and who refused Christian conversion.
Written in present tense, the movement of time over the sixty years is oddly dream-like; the elements of grief, hardship, shock and revulsion are narrated almost dispassionately- the aftermath of tragedies deep, yet stories meant to be told.
I felt that this was a lament, a book of sorrows. Joy was always couched in past losses and covered with worry for the future. An uncomfortable inheritance-
Always intense, challenging to read at times- I put the book aside just to recuperate a little between chapters- very well written, and obviously from a deep part of the author’s heart.
Kantika is a multigenerational saga about the Cohen family that starts in Istanbul in the early 20th century. Their family, with many other Sephardic Jews, ran from their hometown in Spain a few generations ago. Now the Cohen family is wealthy and lives in Istanbul. But life soon is not as it used to be - they lose their wealth and decide to migrate to Spain again. The daughter, Rebbeca Cohen, is still an unmarried young woman when they move, so she goes with them.
Further on, we track Rebecca’s journey from Spain to Cuba and later to New York. Also, we learn about her struggles and desires. We get to know her children and some of their journeys.
The story of Kantika is inspired by the life story of Elizabeth Graver's grandmother Rebecca and her journey that brought her to America.
This was my first encounter with the story of Sephardic Jews. For me, the story was educational because I didn’t know anything about their past. But I constantly felt like something was missing in this story. I think some more depth would be better. This way, the reader could get attached to the characters more. It would be a very long historical fiction, but family sagas often are.
Nevertheless, I enjoyed the story of Kantika, and I would recommend this (audio)book to those interested in the history of Sephardic Jews.
Thanks to Dreamscape Media for the ALC and this opportunity! This is a voluntary review and all opinions are my own.
A pleasant read. Kantika focuses on the experiences of a family of Sephardic Jews who have lived in Turkey for generations, but in the early 20th century find themselves forced to immigrate to Spain and (for some) later the U.S. The novel blends fact and fiction, as while fictionalized, it’s closely based on the author’s own family history and even uses their real names. For me that is its biggest strength compared to the general run of historical fiction: instead of reproducing well-worn tropes and characters or following a specific plot, it provides an account of several real people’s lives over decades.
The central figure is the author’s grandmother, Rebecca, with her globetrotting young adulthood and struggle to pick up the pieces after her early marriage goes sour. But Graver writes from several other perspectives also, including Rebecca’s son David (who struggles in school and later has a harrowing experience in the Navy during WWII) and stepdaughter Luna (who was born with cerebral palsy at a time when options were poor, but accomplishes far more than anyone expected). The author knew and interviewed all three of these people in real life, though not her great-grandparents, who also get a couple of sections.
The characters� struggles, relationships and the unexpected turns their lives take are well-portrayed, and I was engaged throughout. Graver seems to be primarily a writer of literary fiction and brings her own voice to the tale, along with insight and empathy for everyone involved. And the inclusion of family photos is a great touch—though I’d have liked more in the author’s note about how everyone’s lives turned out! Overall, it was interesting to read about places and experiences less commonly depicted in fiction, and while I’d also have liked a nonfiction family memoir, I appreciate that Graver was honest about her fictionalization and that the book was marketed accordingly. It’s 3.5 stars for me because I don’t know that it’ll stick with me, but certainly worth a read for anyone interested in the subject matter.
This book is a marvel. Part novel, part genealogical adventure, the story is an epic jaunt across continents and decades, moving seamlessly from culture to culture and providing nothing less, in the end, than a portrait of the whole world, as seen from the particular angle of one family’s lived experience. Formally neither tragic nor heroic, Kantika nevertheless features heroes and tragedies, and successfully mines the rich vein of events lodged in the deep sediment of every family history.
Thank you to NetGalley and Metropolitan Books for providing me with an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.
As soon as I saw this book, I knew I wanted to read it. I’ve been coming across more Jewish stories, but haven’t found very many that talk about the Sephardic or Mizrahi experience. I really wanted to get my hands on a copy of this book and requested both the ebook and audiobook versions, and was very surprised when I got approved for both of them.
Much like Ashkenazi Jews, those who spent their diaspora in Eastern Europe, spoke Yiddish, Sephardic Jews also had their own language—Ladino. I’m not familiar with Ladino, but there is a lot of it used throughout this book. All of the Ladino terms are clearly defined in the book, but this is where having the audiobook was especially beneficial, because Gail Shaver, the narrator, did a fantastic job of pronouncing not only Ladino terms, but also French and making them accessible. In addition, there is a focus on songs in the story, and Shaver demonstrates her beautiful singing voice in the audiobook, and I’d have expected nothing less from a book whose title means song.
The story starts when Rebecca is very young, living with her family in Istanbul, Turkey, in 1907. They live a comfortable life, attend a Catholic school, and live in relative peace with their Catholic and Muslim neighbors. However, they tend to stick with the other Jews, and Rebecca’s childhood is a fairly happy one, spent with her best friend. But as things around them change, her father hears of a chance for them to return to Spain, where there family came from before they lived in Turkey. He takes advantage of the opportunity, and the family moves to Barcelona.
However, the Alhambra Decree of 1492, which expelled all practicing Jews from Spain, is still in effect, and no Jews are viewed as citizens of Spain, even if they are born there. This law wasn’t officially revoked until 1968.
While Rebecca and her family were allowed to live and worship as Jews in Spain, they are reluctant to advertise their Jewishness. They keep quiet about it and try to integrate into Spanish society as best they can, in order to avoid drawing attention and negative consequences. The story is told increasingly through Rebecca’s POV as she matures, and marries.
Ultimately, we follow Rebecca and her family through ups and downs, in this very much character-driven story. Normally I prefer a plot-driven story, but I was fascinated not just by what was going on in Rebecca’s life, but also what life was like for Sephardic Jews in the diaspora, especially how different it could be from country to country and in different periods of time.
I also think it’s important to mention that there’s a major character in the story who has a disability, and that this occurs in the 1930s, when accessibility and services weren’t a priority, or in some cases, even available. When Rebecca first meets Luna, her new disabled stepdaughter, the girl is being treated as a baby and infantilized, despite the fact that she isn’t a baby and has a physical disability rather than a developmental disability. But since Rebecca is a strong-willed woman and believes that Luna is capable of so much more than the others think. I loved Rebecca’s forward thinking and modern take on Luna’s capacities, and the way that she works with her to strengthen and build her skills, as well as her self-esteem.
Ultimately, this is a fascinating and layered family saga about love, family, trust, overcoming obstacles, and finding job or making it yourself when you can’t find it. The women in this story are all so incredibly strong, and it was so interesting to learn more about the Sephardic experience, but also to see the similarities and not just the differences. Perhaps the most intriguing aspect of this story was the way it’s inspired by the author’s own grandmother, Rebecca Cohen Baruch Levy, and there are family photographs included at the start of nearly every chapter. This is absolutely a book not to miss.
I received this book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
This book is all over the place--literally! Turkey, Spain, Cuba, the U.S. [Constantinople/Istanbul, Barcelona, Adrianople, Havana, Astoria, Cambria Heights]
"A kaleidoscopic portrait of one family’s displacement across four countries, Kantika—“song� in Ladino—follows the joys and losses of Rebecca Cohen, feisty daughter of the Sephardic elite of early 20th-century Istanbul. When the Cohens lose their wealth and are forced to move to Barcelona and start anew, Rebecca fashions a life and self from what comes her way—a failed marriage, the need to earn a living, but also passion, pleasure and motherhood. Moving from Spain to Cuba to New York for an arranged second marriage, she faces her greatest challenge—her disabled stepdaughter, Luna, whose feistiness equals her own and whose challenges pit new family against old."
And so it begins.
Highly original and interspersed with photos from the author's family--the acknowledgements reveals how Graver kept some names the same, as well as parts of their stories--which were inspired by the true story of her maternal grandmother Rebecca [who is the driving force/heroine of the novel].
How I wish there had been a glossary! Kantika is a song; and Rebecca often sings. Bonjuk--the name of the traditional, Turkish blue bead guarding against the evil-eye. And many more other words.
There is much about how being Jewish affected their life in Spain [after losing their fortune in Turkey and moving to much lesser circumstances].
Rebecca emigrates to the US--as a young widow, conditionally going to meet her [new] future husband; a return to Spain was always possible. She was leaving her parents and her two young sons, but had money for a return sewn into her clothing. The transition was extremely difficult. Consider--marrying the widower of your best friend, Lika. And, becoming a mother to her disabled daughter, Luna. Add in a new land, a new language, new relatives, new everything. Rebecca's struggles--both financially and emotionally--form much of the narrative. But, Rebecca is a force of nature--determined to reunite her family and help Luna become more self-sufficient.
I really enjoyed reading about a Jewish family who lived in Turkey, moved to Spain, then a visit to Cuba and on to New York. So much upheaval, anti semitism, love, and more. Very interesting. Thank you NetGalley for the ARC.
Ich lese selten generationenübergreifende Familienromane. Häufig ziehen sie sich für meinen Geschmack zu sehr in die Länge und jedes noch so triviale Ereignis wird viel zu detailliert dargestellt, unnötige Handlungsstränge und Verwicklungen erdacht. Wären dagegen mehr Bücher so wie Kantika, sehe dies ganz anders aus. Kantika ist die Geschichte der Großmutter von Elizabeth Graver, der Autorin. Rebecca Cohen wird Anfang des 20. Jahrhunderts in Konstantinopel geboren. Sie ist die Tochter sephardischer Juden und wächst in gutbürgerlichen Verhältnissen auf. Doch ihre Familie verarmt mit der Zeit, der Vater sieht sich gezwungen, eine Stelle als Schammes anzunehmen, in Barcelona. Die Familie zieht dorthin, wird aber nicht heimisch: sie kann die Religion nicht offen ausüben, die versprochene spanische Staatsbürgerschaft bleibt aus, selbst für die dort geborenen Kinder. Rebecca versucht sich eine Existenz als Schneiderin aufzubauen und heiratet schließlich den einzig möglichen Kandidaten. Die nächsten Jahre führen sie schließlich nach Adrianopel, wieder zurück nach Barcelona und von dort über Havanna nach New York zu ihrem zweiten Mann. Rebecca ist eine Person, die mich sehr beeindruckt hat. Sie muss große Verluste verkraften und sehr widrigen Umständen trotzen. Nie gibt sie jedoch auf, immer wieder kämpft sie sich aufs Neue durch. Besonders einprägsam fand ich ihren Umgang mit ihrer körperlich behinderten Stieftochter, der sie schließlich sogar zu einem eigenständigen Leben verhilft. Kantika wird meist aus Rebeccas Perspektive erzählt. Manche Kapitel werden jedoch auch von anderen Familienmitgliedern erzählt. Die Sprache ist dabei immer präzise, gleichzeitig aber oft auch sehr poetisch. Für mich ist Kantika ein kleines Highlight. Nichts anderes hatte ich auch erwartet, denn auf den Mareverlag ist eigentlich immer Verlass. Aus dem Englischen von Juliane Zaubitzer.
I've let this one settle for a couple of weeks before attempting a review. Graver takes the reader on such an adventure, showing us unfamiliar worlds: Constantinople before the fall of the Ottoman Empire and the rise of Mustafa Kemal Atatürk's Turkish Nationalist movement, a golden age for minorities; Barcelona in the unstable decade leading up to the proclamation of the Spanish Republic; Cuba in the late 1930s and New York on the eve of World War II.
The thread winding through all of these places is the author's grandmother, Rebecca Cohen, a child when the story opens, a widowed young mother living with her parents in exile in Spain, a prospective bride in Cuba, a wife again in New York, mother to her husband's daughter, a child with cerebral palsy, as well as her two sons from the first marriage and several more from her second. Graver delves into her family stories, reimagining her grandmother's life and giving us a glimpse of vanished Sephardic communities, their language and music and traditions.
I've often described historical fiction as travel literature with a kick, a journey to a different place AND time, and Kantika is superb in this regard. I came away with an appreciation of the richness of Sephardic culture and the sadness of the diaspora of this community. But Rebecca did not fully cohere as a character. I didn't see how she grew and changed through the various episodes of her life. Each phase was interesting enough to keep me reading to the end, but Rebecca herself left no lasting impression.
I'm wondering if Graver wasn't too wedded to the truth of her family's saga. Some of my fiction derives from a kernel of truth, an incident or memory, say, but at some point in the writing process, the story takes on its own life and truth goes out the window. Don't let the truth get in the way of reality, as the adage goes.
From my understanding of literature, the elements of a good book include setting, theme, plot, point of view, character and conflict. Of these, Kantika receives high marks for the first two components. The plight of Turkish Jews at the turn of the twentieth century is an often-overlooked subject in contemporary literature and the author had covered this topic well. She was engaging when describing both Jewish life in Constantinople/Istanbul, Barcelona and Cuba and the complex relationship Jews had with their respective countries. In addition, the themes of familial relationships, second chances in romantic love, migration, and maintaining a Jewish identity were identifiable and carried throughout the book.
However, Kantika was plot-driven and at times, read like a dull narrative. In my humble opinion, that was one of the book’s biggest downfalls. The novel is written in the third person with events and actions taking a primary focus. Resultantly, this approach led to a somewhat antiseptic story with bland and distant characters. A first-person narration with an exploration of emotions, feelings and mindset would have taken this story to a much-needed next level.
I considered Kantika more of a heartfelt tribute to the author’s grandmother, her Sephardic roots and her Jewish heritage than a work of historical fiction. Recognizing this perspective may assist you in determining whether Kantika aligns with your literary preferences.
This was an interesting story - historical fiction but with photos sprinkled in that made it feel like non-fiction. Elizabeth Graver based this multigenerational saga on her Sephardic grandmother. It's a story of Jewish exile and immigration. Highlighting the strength of one mother as she makes agonizing choices for herself and her children. 4 ⭐️'s!
4.25 stars. The beginning of this story is filled with the abundant, wealthy life of a Rebecca and her Sephardic family in Constantinople in the 1920’s. The sights, sounds, people, food, clothing of that period is described in dizzy run-on sentences that I found too much. But then the story settles down as it follows the family’s reduced circumstances and family tragedies in unwelcoming Barcelona in the 1930’s, and then Rebecca’s new, complicated, family life in NY. There’s a lot here, and it’s very well done.
"Kantika" ist eine fesselnde und poetische Erzählung über Identität und Exil einer sephardischen Jüdin. Rebecca, die Protagonistin, die in der Oberschicht von Konstantinopel privilegiert aufwächst, erlebt in "Kantika" eine bewegende Flucht auf der Suche nach Sicherheit und Glück durch Europa und Amerika. Als Europa in den 1920er-Jahren gefährlich für Juden wird, beginnt Rebeccas Migrationsgeschichte von Barcelona über Havanna bis nach New York. Sie erlebt dabei immer wieder Schicksalsschläge, die ihre Widerstandskraft auf die Probe stellen. Als Witwe und alleinerziehende Mutter muss sie schließlich ihre Eltern zurücklassen, um ihren Kindern eine Zukunft zu ermöglichen. Trotz aller Widrigkeiten versucht sie an allen neuen Orten, ihre Situation zu verbessern, sodass die Lektüre immer positiv und hoffnungsvoll ist.
Besonders beeindruckend finde ich die Tatsache, dass dies die Familiengeschichte der Autorin ist. Elizabeth Graver hat es geschafft, einen roten Faden in ihrer verwickelten Familiengeschichte zu finden und eine poetische Stimme zu entwickeln, die die Leser:innen durch die Geschichte trägt. Durch die einfühlsame Darstellung ihrer Großmutter schafft Graver eine Verbindung zwischen Vergangenheit und Gegenwart, die mich als Leser tief berührt hat. "Kantika" ist für mich aber auch deshalb eine besondere Lektüre, da ich zuvor noch keinen Roman oder ein Sachbuch zur Geschichte sephardischer Juden gelesen habe. Bringt der Mare-Verlag eigentlich auch mal Bücher heraus, die nicht hervorragend sind? Ich glaube nicht!
I really loved this book. A multi-generational family saga that stretches from Istanbul to New York, detailing a Jewish family’s struggles and joys from 1907-1950. The author wove in a lot of beautiful details, but also skipped over certain plot points in an artful way that kept the book moving at a quick pace (hard to do with such a long & complex story).
Just loved this family saga. When I was in Istanbul last year, I fortuitously met the daughter of a very old Istanbul Jewish family. The picture she painted was one of an ever shrinking tiny community, so it was very poignant to read about a time before, as it was also rich and poignant to read about the author's grandmother's life in Queens - not far from where my own grandparents lived and raised a family about the same time. The writing is good, the characterizations are good and the material, at least to me, truly fascinating.
As with most books I’ve enjoyed recently, I doubted whether I would actually enjoy it because it’s something I wouldn’t have chose for myself. Kantika was a journey that sucked you in. It was gritty and complex. It taught you something about family, hardship and perseverance.
I adored following Rebecca from Constantinople to Barcelona to settling in America. Her journey was never easy but it was hard to not admire Rebecca’s tenacity and her ability to make the best of what lay ahead of her. As she said, you have one life to live and she seemed to have lived a hundred of them. I learned a lot about how Jewish people were consistently ousted from country to country, across oceans and divided. The disruption of that was never understated in this book, the difficulties of immigrating and starting a new life weren’t sugarcoated.
Arguably the most interesting portion of the book was the dynamic of Luna and Rebecca. Their push-and-pull gave each of them a means to improve. It deepened my understanding of Rebecca when we saw her from Luna’s point of view. It was also nice to hear Luna’s perspective as disabled voices can often be buried in favour of their able bodied counterparts.
Thank you NetGalley for the chance to read and review this ARC.
I really enjoyed this novel loosely based on the author's family. Not knowing much about Sephardic Jews at the turn of the last century I found it very interesting. The book follows the fortunes and misfortunes of Rachel Cohen and her family as they move from Turkey to Spain and the US. Chapters are often told from the viewpoint of one Rachel's family members which creates a more well-rounded story. The prose is lush and lyrical and in parts almost stream of conscious. There is not a lot of dialogue. I found that the story picks up towards the second half of the book as we see Rachel taking more action to shape her life, rather than her experiences in the beginning of the novel as a young woman who has few choices . Definitely recommend this to anyone who enjoys stories about the immigrant experience, family sagas, and Jewish history.
As is so often the case, the author’s note, explaining her use of family fact and fiction, plus absolutely spectacular family photographs throughout the novel, highlighted the anguish, the tumultuous upheaval of Jewish families throughout history from country to country, continent to continent. Her grandmother, Rebecca, becomes our story teller revealed through her songs, kantika! Kantika a bittersweet “song� telling us about the life of Rebecca Baruch Levy, Graver’s maternal grandmother.
I would like to read more about how much the story is based on the authors family. They were aspects of this book that I really loved. I felt like the character of Rebecca could have use a bit more depth. She goes through so much, leaving her beloved Turkey as a child, arriving in Barcelona without the financial status of her previous life, losing her husband after traveling to his family back in Turkey, and eventually marrying a man in New York to whom she feels deeply connected thanks to her childhood best friend. A lot happens, and she weathers the storm with very little apparent suffering. She knows how to make beautiful clothes and therefore always has work. She is physically attractive, and therefore always finds community. I guess her character lacked some of the reality that I would expect given the tumultuous life she led. There is a lot of wonderful Sephardic tradition and Ladino language in the book. After just finishing Orhan Pamuk’s A Strangeness in my Mind, I felt very connected to the Istanbul section of the book. The “honeymoon� in Cuba also was lovely. If there is any truth to Rebecca’s success with Luna then that is also a remarkable story.
It took me a minute to warm to the writing style (SO MANY PARENTHESES) (and run on sentences) but once I did I found this to be a really compelling read. I enjoy multigenerational sagas and this book switched between POVs really seamlessly I enjoyed that a lot. First novel about Sephardim I think I’ve ever read. And really relevant to my current travels and thesis research so it was timely too!
Prima facie, this was to be a multigenerational novel of the Jewish refugee experience during the 1900s.
This family saga started in Constantinople and moved through Spain and Cuba. And like many immigrant stories, it would end in the once glorified United States.
Rather, it was a female bildungsroman.
It is a story about a strong woman who perseveres through a very rough century for both Jews and women.
Written for a mostly female readership, it seldom references events of the times outside of family.
Rather, it is a tribute to the unrecognized female population of that era. An extended bubbameister from the author’s bubba or kith, I perceive.
A tale that speaks of the importance of female hood in times of tumult. And it offers many perspectives of it. As a sister, a daughter, a granddaughter, a mother, a wife, a teacher, a businesswoman.
An enjoyable and informative book, especially for an uninformed man, me, from a bygone era.
This is the beautiful story of the love and losses of the Cohen Family. The Cohen family is happily living in Turkey when they lose their fortune. Rebecca's father packs up the family, and they move to Spain. While in Spain, the family resides in a small home, and the father is the caretaker of the small local synagogue. The family hides their Judaism, and the local temple has no markers to indicate its presence. Rebecca, the feisty daughter of the bride, finds work as a seamstress and creates her own business. The story of the Cohen family is narrated from Rebecca's perspective, and we learn a lot about her life experiences and her family's. I could write so much about Kantika and the affairs of the Cohen, but I'll leave that to other readers. It is a lovely story and emphasizes the experiences of Sephardic Jews in the early to late twentieth century. I recommend Kantika to readers that enjoy family sagas and Jewish culture. The narration was beautifully done, no complaints. I received this audiobook from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
Kantika is a multi-generational family saga that covers the first half of the 20th century. The Cohen family is Turkish and Jewish, and is comfortable in Constantinople (now Istanbul) in the early years of the 20th century as the book opens. World War I changes everything. The Cohens are Sephardim, their ancestors having fled Spain during the Inquisition, centuries before. Their story is an engaging one with interesting characters and, although I’m fairly knowledgeable about 20th century history and Jewish history in particular, I still learned a lot about this culture and how they lived (different from my own Ashkenazic/East European Jewish background). The book follows members of the family from Turkey to Spain, to Cuba and ultimately to New York City. Kantika is based on the experiences of the author’s family, which made it even more interesting to me.
The individual family members were well-drawn individuals, with Rebecca being the main character throughout the book. Her step-daughter, Luna, was particularly interesting, as she was born with disabilities. How Rebecca worked with her and her coming-of-age were vividly described. In my opinion the ending just kind of fizzled out, but overall, this was an engaging and interesting book.
The audiobook’s narrator, Gail Shalan, did a fabulous job with all the various accents and languages spoken. Thank you to Dreamscape Media and NetGalley for the opportunity to listen to an advance copy of this audiobook. All opinions are my own.
Historical fiction set in the early 20th century that follows the lives of a Ladino Family from Turkey to Barcelona to New York City. The author based the characters on her own family members and the historic pictures throughout the book was a nice extra. The book could be divided almost in half - the first section in set in Europe and is concerned with Rebecca's childhood in Turkey, the family's move to Barcelona after WWI and Rebecca's first unhappy marriage. The second half focuses on her second marriage and move to New York where she raises a step daughter with physical disabilities. I liked learning about Sephardic Judaism and culture which is rarely touched in fiction. Most chapters focuses on Rebecca but some were told from the second person viewpoint of her parents or children. I liked the character of Luna the best and was interested in the portrayal of disability. I didn't find the narrative to have a strong plot line or sense of momentum. Readers of family sagas, immigrant fiction, or Jewish fiction may enjoy this.
Here’s hoping that some streaming channel will make a mini-series of this book, provided the budget is big enough to do justice to the many interesting and colorful locales with appropriate production values conveying their historical periods � early 20th Century Constantinople/Istanbul, 1920s and early �30s Barcelona and later Havana, 1930/40’s New York. While there is much to like in this book, I don’t mean this entirely as a complement. The author makes a strong effort to recreate on the page the sights and sounds of these places, but for me only with mixed success. The characters too, even Rebecca, the central character for most of the book, come alive only inconsistently. As this is a family saga depicting the repeated need to leave one home for a newer and, it is hoped, safer one, it feels unfair to remark that the episodic quality of the story left me wanting more cohesiveness in the narrative. Just the same, it did.
An enjoyable, easy read. Not quite saccharine sweet, but sometimes left a taste not unlike a fairy tale in my mouth. My biggest complaint was that I often felt a distance from the narrative; it felt like author Elizabeth Graver was leading me to a precipice where I could gaze in to the storylines, rather than jump in and be fully immersed in the characters lives. The book contained plenty of heart, but perhaps not quite enough soul for me to feel real emotional connection? That said: I loved Graver's writing style - her deep love for both words themselves, and their cadence, melody, rhythm, and flow, is palpable and pleasurable - and the rich, historically-rooted multi-generational journey this novel presented.