Here is a lovely parable—all the more lovely considering that it comes from the chief rabbi of Great Britain’s Orthodox Jews. A young man, having troubled over the question, asks his father: Why does the Messiah not come?
There are good books, there are great books, and then there are books that make you want to send copies to all your friends and pass them out to strangers. Miroslav Volf’s book is one of the few members of that last category.
At one time the postwar era (1945-1989) was considered the dawning of a new epoch. Now with the Berlin Wall down and the Soviet Union part of history, Judt treats the era as an interim period during which the unfinished business of World War II was dealt with.
Many novels have been written from the point of view of someone railing against an oppressive religious upbringing. Few, however, are as funny yet sympathetic as Miriam Toews’s outstanding third novel, which won last year’s Governor General’s Award in Canada. Toews beat out Alice Munro for the prize—no mean feat.