![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
The Hidden Palace by Helene Wecker
This is a sequel to The Golem and the Jinni, which I wrote up here. I don't know if this book is objectively a lot more depressing than the first one, or if I was in a more emotionally resilient mood when I read the previous one, but wow this book was hard going at times. Absolutely nobody has a good time.
A large part of the crushing depressingness is due to the timespan - this book takes place over the first 15 years or so of the 20th century, which not only incorporates a number of wrenching political events - ranging from the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire to the outbreak of WW1 - but also, due to the longer time frame than the previous book, shows more of the outcomes of the working-class poverty of the immigrant community in which the book is largely set, and the way that it wears down, breaks, and sometimes kills people who are trapped in it. But it's not just that; it's also that the time span of the book is long enough that the two central protagonists (the Golem and the Jinni) are starting to have to deal with their own immortality re: the people around them. They cannot have a normal life with friends and family not only because their otherness sets them apart on a personal level, but also because other people begin to notice their strangeness and lack of aging, so they are forced to intentionally sever even those ties they've managed to make. On top of that, while in the previous book their friendship was new and tentative, with their bonding based largely on their shared experience of strangeness, sleeplessness, and immortality, now they're becoming aware of their possibly insurmountable differences. Golems are inherently creatures of earth (steadfast and loyal) while jinni are selfish, capricious, and ever-changing. They both have to face the worry that they might be incapable of having lasting relationships not only with humans but with each other as well, the only people even remotely like themselves that they've ever met.
IT'S JUST A REALLY DEPRESSING BOOK, OKAY. The mood is not entirely tragic (there's a lot that's hopeful and even funny, and it eventually makes its way to a fairly optimistic ending), but I kept putting it down and genuinely not being sure if I was going to pick it back up again, thinking maybe I'd better read something less bleak. But then I'd think that if I stopped reading it I'll probably never be able to push through the 200 depressing pages I'd already read to finish it. And it *was* really engrossing and definitely worth it, just very harrowing.
It's really impossible to talk about this book in any detail without not only spoilers for this one but also the previous one, so under the cut gets into that a bit.
I did laugh out loud at this (out-of-context) bit:
I mean honestly, after 300 pages of misery, it was nice just to have some levity, you know? (I also feel like this bit underscores how the Jinni's problems, while genuinely very tragic at times, are about 95% self-inflicted throughout this book.)
I did really love a lot of this book! The interweaving between realistic turn-of-the-century immigrant life and the magical elements of the book continued to be well done. This book also has one of those tropes that I'm always a sucker for, the yearning for utopia and then being forced to choose a flawed reality instead. In this case, both the Golem and the Jinni craved contact with their own kind, as an ideal, but for both of them, discovering others of their kind brings them face to face with how much they've changed into the self-created people that they are, and how impossible it is to go back to what they used to be. Chava (who continues to be an absolutely wonderful heroine while breaking my heart on a regular basis) finds another golem and then is forced to destroy him because he is really just the destructive automaton that she was supposed to be. Ahmad believes that he's still the same selfish, capricious creature he always was - until actually having to deal with another jinni and finding out how huge the gulf is between the person he's become and the cruel, self-obsessed creatures that his own kind are.
I also really liked how the storylines of the two women who were victimized in the previous book were dealt with - Sophia traveling the world seeking a cure for her life-ruining condition after miscarrying her magic baby, and Anna raising her illegitimate son in defiance of social convention. The ways that some of the various seemingly unconnected storylines tied together were ultimately really neat, especially orphaned Kreindel and Chava, and Sophia and the outcast jinniyeh. (I completely missed that Sophia's friend "Ned Lawrence" was Lawrence of Arabia until WW1 rolled around and then I was like ".... oh. Right." I was not pleased about Sophia's family being on the Titanic. It's not necessary for the protagonists to have a personal connection to every major historical event in their time frame!)
Anyway, as in the previous book, the world feels very lived-in and rich with detail, full of the sights, smells, and social ambiance of turn-of-the-century New York, and it was especially rich in details of women's lives (and particularly working women's lives) in the time period - laundresses and bakers, college students and teachers, globetrotting adventuresses, Orthodox Jewish girls trying to balance tradition and ambition, single moms trying to get by. All the various storylines coming together at the end started to feel a little overwhelming after a while; I appreciate the general theme of these people's lives being more entwined than they wanted to accept, but for every truly lovely grace note ("Come to the roof. Bring fire.") there was a clunky bit when it felt like a little too much. I also ended up feeling a little crushed about how Ahmad's storyline comes out. Chava/the Golem gets a well-earned happy ending, with a place to belong and a purpose and people who know what she really is. But the entire theme of Ahmad's storyline - figuring out that he's not happy alone, that he's changed too much to ever be the capricious fire spirit he once was - still ends up with him isolated and having to start a new life somewhere else. There's no way to ever have closure with the dead friend he selfishly abandoned; the ultimate realization that Maryam and Sayeed have his back, and that the "missing" factor in the building he made was people to share it with, and that all along he had what Chava never did (people who know what he really is, trust him, and keep his secret) never really comes to anything because he doesn't have that at the end, all he has is a fresh start in a brand new city where no one knows him. It's not crushingly depressing, but it's sad, you know?
A large part of the crushing depressingness is due to the timespan - this book takes place over the first 15 years or so of the 20th century, which not only incorporates a number of wrenching political events - ranging from the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire to the outbreak of WW1 - but also, due to the longer time frame than the previous book, shows more of the outcomes of the working-class poverty of the immigrant community in which the book is largely set, and the way that it wears down, breaks, and sometimes kills people who are trapped in it. But it's not just that; it's also that the time span of the book is long enough that the two central protagonists (the Golem and the Jinni) are starting to have to deal with their own immortality re: the people around them. They cannot have a normal life with friends and family not only because their otherness sets them apart on a personal level, but also because other people begin to notice their strangeness and lack of aging, so they are forced to intentionally sever even those ties they've managed to make. On top of that, while in the previous book their friendship was new and tentative, with their bonding based largely on their shared experience of strangeness, sleeplessness, and immortality, now they're becoming aware of their possibly insurmountable differences. Golems are inherently creatures of earth (steadfast and loyal) while jinni are selfish, capricious, and ever-changing. They both have to face the worry that they might be incapable of having lasting relationships not only with humans but with each other as well, the only people even remotely like themselves that they've ever met.
IT'S JUST A REALLY DEPRESSING BOOK, OKAY. The mood is not entirely tragic (there's a lot that's hopeful and even funny, and it eventually makes its way to a fairly optimistic ending), but I kept putting it down and genuinely not being sure if I was going to pick it back up again, thinking maybe I'd better read something less bleak. But then I'd think that if I stopped reading it I'll probably never be able to push through the 200 depressing pages I'd already read to finish it. And it *was* really engrossing and definitely worth it, just very harrowing.
It's really impossible to talk about this book in any detail without not only spoilers for this one but also the previous one, so under the cut gets into that a bit.
I did laugh out loud at this (out-of-context) bit:
The Jinni fell silent, considering this—and then cringed as a shout in Yiddish rose up from the sidewalk:
"Ahmad al-Hadid! If you're still alive, then get down here and explain yourself this instant!"
Sayeed looked up. "What was that?"
The Jinni sighed. "Oh, just another woman who's never liked me. Help me up, would you?"
I mean honestly, after 300 pages of misery, it was nice just to have some levity, you know? (I also feel like this bit underscores how the Jinni's problems, while genuinely very tragic at times, are about 95% self-inflicted throughout this book.)
I did really love a lot of this book! The interweaving between realistic turn-of-the-century immigrant life and the magical elements of the book continued to be well done. This book also has one of those tropes that I'm always a sucker for, the yearning for utopia and then being forced to choose a flawed reality instead. In this case, both the Golem and the Jinni craved contact with their own kind, as an ideal, but for both of them, discovering others of their kind brings them face to face with how much they've changed into the self-created people that they are, and how impossible it is to go back to what they used to be. Chava (who continues to be an absolutely wonderful heroine while breaking my heart on a regular basis) finds another golem and then is forced to destroy him because he is really just the destructive automaton that she was supposed to be. Ahmad believes that he's still the same selfish, capricious creature he always was - until actually having to deal with another jinni and finding out how huge the gulf is between the person he's become and the cruel, self-obsessed creatures that his own kind are.
I also really liked how the storylines of the two women who were victimized in the previous book were dealt with - Sophia traveling the world seeking a cure for her life-ruining condition after miscarrying her magic baby, and Anna raising her illegitimate son in defiance of social convention. The ways that some of the various seemingly unconnected storylines tied together were ultimately really neat, especially orphaned Kreindel and Chava, and Sophia and the outcast jinniyeh. (I completely missed that Sophia's friend "Ned Lawrence" was Lawrence of Arabia until WW1 rolled around and then I was like ".... oh. Right." I was not pleased about Sophia's family being on the Titanic. It's not necessary for the protagonists to have a personal connection to every major historical event in their time frame!)
Anyway, as in the previous book, the world feels very lived-in and rich with detail, full of the sights, smells, and social ambiance of turn-of-the-century New York, and it was especially rich in details of women's lives (and particularly working women's lives) in the time period - laundresses and bakers, college students and teachers, globetrotting adventuresses, Orthodox Jewish girls trying to balance tradition and ambition, single moms trying to get by. All the various storylines coming together at the end started to feel a little overwhelming after a while; I appreciate the general theme of these people's lives being more entwined than they wanted to accept, but for every truly lovely grace note ("Come to the roof. Bring fire.") there was a clunky bit when it felt like a little too much. I also ended up feeling a little crushed about how Ahmad's storyline comes out. Chava/the Golem gets a well-earned happy ending, with a place to belong and a purpose and people who know what she really is. But the entire theme of Ahmad's storyline - figuring out that he's not happy alone, that he's changed too much to ever be the capricious fire spirit he once was - still ends up with him isolated and having to start a new life somewhere else. There's no way to ever have closure with the dead friend he selfishly abandoned; the ultimate realization that Maryam and Sayeed have his back, and that the "missing" factor in the building he made was people to share it with, and that all along he had what Chava never did (people who know what he really is, trust him, and keep his secret) never really comes to anything because he doesn't have that at the end, all he has is a fresh start in a brand new city where no one knows him. It's not crushingly depressing, but it's sad, you know?