Maybe Esther: A Family Story
Summary (from the publisher): An inventive, unique, and extraordinarily moving literary debut that pieces together the fascinating story of one woman’s family across twentieth-century Russia, Ukraine, Poland, and Germany.
Katja Petrowskaja wanted to create a kind of family tree, charting relatives who had scattered across multiple countries and continents. Her idea blossomed into this striking and highly original work of narrative nonfiction, an account of her search for meaning within the stories of her ancestors.
In a series of short meditations, Petrowskaja delves into family legends, introducing a remarkable cast of characters: Judas Stern, her great-uncle, who shot a German diplomatic attaché in 1932 and was sentenced to death; her grandfather Semyon, who went underground with a new name during the Bolshevik Revolution in Russia, forever splitting their branch of the family from the rest; her grandmother Rosa, who ran an orphanage in the Urals for deaf-mute Jewish children; her Ukrainian grandfather Vasily, who disappeared during World War II and reappeared without explanation forty-one years later—and settled back into the family as if he’d never been gone; and her great-grandmother, whose name may have been Esther, who alone remained in Kiev and was killed by the Nazis.
How do you talk about what you can’t know, how do you bring the past to life? To answer this complex question, Petrowskaja visits the scenes of these events, reflecting on a fragmented and traumatized century and bringing to light family figures who threaten to drift into obscurity. A true search for the past reminiscent of Jonathan Safran Foer’s Everything Is Illuminated, Daniel Mendelsohn’s The Lost, and Michael Chabon’s Moonglow, Maybe Esther is a poignant, haunting investigation of the effects of history on one family.
Katja Petrowskaja wanted to create a kind of family tree, charting relatives who had scattered across multiple countries and continents. Her idea blossomed into this striking and highly original work of narrative nonfiction, an account of her search for meaning within the stories of her ancestors.
In a series of short meditations, Petrowskaja delves into family legends, introducing a remarkable cast of characters: Judas Stern, her great-uncle, who shot a German diplomatic attaché in 1932 and was sentenced to death; her grandfather Semyon, who went underground with a new name during the Bolshevik Revolution in Russia, forever splitting their branch of the family from the rest; her grandmother Rosa, who ran an orphanage in the Urals for deaf-mute Jewish children; her Ukrainian grandfather Vasily, who disappeared during World War II and reappeared without explanation forty-one years later—and settled back into the family as if he’d never been gone; and her great-grandmother, whose name may have been Esther, who alone remained in Kiev and was killed by the Nazis.
How do you talk about what you can’t know, how do you bring the past to life? To answer this complex question, Petrowskaja visits the scenes of these events, reflecting on a fragmented and traumatized century and bringing to light family figures who threaten to drift into obscurity. A true search for the past reminiscent of Jonathan Safran Foer’s Everything Is Illuminated, Daniel Mendelsohn’s The Lost, and Michael Chabon’s Moonglow, Maybe Esther is a poignant, haunting investigation of the effects of history on one family.
Review: I received an uncorrected proof copy of this book from HarperCollins.
In this work of narrative non-fiction, author Katja Petrowskaja recounts her search for her ancestors and meaning by uncovering the history behind her family stories. Katja charts relatives who were scattered across multiple countries in the twentieth century including in Russia, Ukraine, Poland, and Germany. She unpacks family legends and seeks the individuals behind the tales that were handed down to her. These individuals include her great-uncle Judas Stern, who shot a German diplomatic attaché in 1932, her grandmother Rosa who ran a orphanage for deaf-mute Jewish children, and her great-grandmother, whose name may have been Esther, who was killed by the Nazis in Kiev after the rest of her family fled.
The author inherited a fractured family history, filled with holes and tragedies. Traveling to the origin points of her family stories, combing through the archives, and conducting in person research, she attempts to uncover more of her past and make peace with the trauma and destruction her family tree and family records suffered in the twentieth century. Many of the family stories are difficult to read, such as her uncle Vil, who went to the front with the rest of his class in the Soviet Union, only to face crossfire and a ditch filled with bodies and tanks rolled over them. "When the ditch was searched for survivors, Vil was found way at the bottom, squashed and shot through the groin. A miracle that there had even been a search" (29). Others were massacred at the hands of the Nazis and thrown into the pits of Babi Yar. I found it particularly interesting that a large number of the author's family had worked as teachers for deaf-mute children, founding schools and orphanages. Across countries, time, and language, this distinction united dozens of her family members.
"I think her name was Esther, my father said. Yes, maybe Esther." Separated by war, the small grandchild, who only ever called his grandmother Babushka, has lost forever the full history of his origins. The choice of this detail for the title reflects the imprecise and impossible task the author faces; she can never fully reconstruct the past or the lost history. Petrowskaja's story is a melancholy one but she is able to shed light on her origins and make peace with her fragmentary past. I found the narrative writing style confusing at times and would have benefitted from a family tree and more comprehensive overview of the stories included, rather than the author's many musings on their meaning to her.
Stars: 3
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