People of the Book

Another book, like “The Journal of Dora Damage,” that goes into history with a female book person as guide. This time it’s the rough-on-the-edges Australian Hanna Heath, a book conservator, who’s given the job of working on the famed Sarajavo Haggadah. The fact that the haggadah is an actual book and that author Brooks watched it being worked on in 2001 only adds to the versimilitude of the novel. Some critics, who apparently like the nitty gritty only, have criticized Brooks for having too much bibliographical detail in the book. I found the mix very satisfactory with the conservation practices only adding to the fascination with the stories of the people who contributed various things to the book itself.

Heath, you see, has several clues as to the provenance of the volume that she finds in the volume itself. Among them are a wine stain that proves to be more than wine, a white hair, a piece of salt and something that is not there: a set of clasps that at one time held the parchment pages closed. The stories that evolve from the clues might be a bit far-fetched at times but this is fiction and all surround the same theme: the brutality of men and women when religion rules their lives rather than compassion and humanity. There is no one group at fault here and several of the representatives of each religion do good things, but the consistent high odds they face from religious figures and zealots only complicates rather than soothes their lives. Much of the action takes place around the time of the Inquisition and that may be enough of an indication as to how irrational it gets, but it is all fascinating, fast-paced and good fiction.

The fact that Brooks is herself an Australian adds to the often funny aspects of the book. Particulary funny is her description of women in the arts in Britain: “...women named Annabelle Something-hyphen-Something who dress in black leggings and burnt orange cashmeres and smell faintly of wet Labrador. I always find myself lapsing into Paleolithic Strine when I’m around them, using words I’d never dream of using in real life, like ‘cobber’ and ‘bonza.’”

For anybody who loves books and dreams of tracking down exotic provenances, this is a great read. For those of you not into those things, it’s still a fascinating take on an obviously age-old question: What is it about religion that makes its practitioners spend so much time and energy not on improving their own lives but on ruining others’?