"My Father's Paradise" was a fascinating read. I wasn't sure exactly what I was getting into when I chose this book by its cover but the title was intriguing. In fact, the book is much more captivating than I expected.

Ariel Sabar's story begins like that of many children of immigrants, alienated from his father and caring not at all about his family's past until he became a father himself. Then suddenly he wanted to connect. In his quest to understand his father and himself he goes a little further than most, however. He "interviewed nearly one hundred relatives, family friends and acquaintances, scholars, and others... conducted research at libraries, special collections, and government archives... traveled to Iraq, Israel, and cities across the United States.... collected family letters, diaries, photographs and official documents." The result is a gripping story of a family told against the back drop of a part of recent history that I didn't know much about: the formation of the state of Israel and the exodus of 120,000 Jews from Iraq.

I've said before that I don't really like reading history and biography. They tend to be to dry, cluttered with facts and frequently lack a strong narrative that will pull me in and maintain my interest. I do, however like memoir and historical fiction and this is much more along those lines. Sabar writes that "while this book is by and large a work of nonfiction, it is not a formal history or biography. Nor is it journalism. ... A book on one's family is by its nature a subjective exercise. But I have tried in every instance to keep faith with the larger emotional truth of my family's saga."

The book also tells the story of a language, Aramaic. We know it as the language that Jesus spoke. It also was the language that continued to be spoken by the Jewish population of Kurdistan. After the family's emigration to Israel, Ariel Sabar's father, Yona, went on to become a scholar, a linguist and a crusader for the preservation of Neo-Aramaic, the language of his boyhood that he realized was hovering on the brink of extinction as the second generation of Kurdish Jews in Israel abandoned their native tongue in favor of Hebrew, the official language of Israel.

One of the funniest moments in the book is when his father is asked to do a voice over in Aramaic for The X-Files and must translate, as a little Beatles Easter egg, the lyric "I am a walrus". The puzzled scholar tries to explain that in mountainous landlocked Kurdistan there is no Aramaic word for walrus. He improvised with "I am a sea dog."

Almost as funny is the follow-up story in which the author, whose television gets bad reception, checks into a motel that allows him to pay by the hour and that has cable access to watch the episode of the X-Files in which his voice appeared. His wife meets him there, driving her own car. He wants to explain to the clerk, who must be suspicious at this clandestine rendezvous, when he checks out an hour later; but just can't.

I wasn't quite sure what to expect from this book's description, but knowing I'm not a fan of "sweeping multi-generational sagas" on the fiction side, I approached "My Father's Paradise" with a little nervousness. But Ariel Sabar won me over very quickly with what turned out to be a surprisingly engrossing, educational, and ultimately moving story.

The narrative covers a lot of literal ground, from Kurdistan to Israel to New Haven to Los Angeles and back, but also thematic ground, addressing history, linguistics, cultural and generational clashes, and quite a bit more. At its heart, though, it's a story of a family -- and while those often can end up maudlin, uncomfortably personal, or larded with irrelevancies, Sabar has kept a light hand and a fine balance, and has produced a remarkable story, one I think will remain with me for quite a while. For not knowing what to expect, I ended up very pleasantly surprised.

I could not stop reading this book.
Usually a book like this, starts off great, but gets boreing. Not this one, it only gets more interesting to the very end, and you cannot put it down.
Ariel Sabar draws you into his Fathers world.

Ariel takes you on a Journey about his Kurdish Father, Yona, who was born in the 40's in small remote town in Kurdish Iraq. His Father Yona and his family had to escape to Israel in the 50's, to a harder life. They where consitered illiterate people. Low on the standards for Israel, which was a new country at that time.
Yona went to Yale University.

When Ariel got married, and has a Son, he wanted to find his Father's, and his Jewish Kurdish Roots. Also to understand and have a closer relaionship with His Father Yona.

This Book has touched my Heart. I'm Jewish but not a Kurdish Jew. I'm a second generation Jew in the USA, who was raised reformed. After reading this book, I will be looking in to my Jewish ancestors, to find out what they went through in there native country, and where I have really come from.
This book has showed me that I should have been more tolorent of my Grandparents that came to this country. I wish I would have understood them better. It also opened my eyes to why they did certain things in there life. I'm sure they brought with them there culture. My parents wanting to fit in, and be the new Jewish in the Usa , My Parents forgot there parents culture, and we lived as the rich Americans.

Are the Jew's a Religion or a Tribe!!!

I do not think it matters if your a Jew, Christian, or what Religion you follow, This book will bring back memeories, Giving you a better understanding of the emigrants. and lift your Spirit.

Told as a journey by Ariel Sabar to re-discovery his family's Jewish roots in Iraq, this book unveils a fascinating glimpse into the history and culture of the Mesopotamian Jews, a community so isolated from the outside world that they continued the use of the ancient language of Aramaic! I confess that even with my knowledge of the Middle East, I had little knowledge of the Jewish Iraqis beyond their existence, and am grateful to the author for writing this book. Although this book focuses on family history, it also gives a wider view of a fascinating community, isolated from the wider world but still clinging to their own vibrant culture and traditions, and the experiences of the Iraqi Jewish community with the formation of modern Iraq and the creation of Israel. The community of Zakho, deep in the foothills of Kurdish Iraq, comes alive in this book. Anyone seeking knowledge of the Middle Eastern Jews should definitely read this book, because it shows the human side of history, the people displaced by their own country, and the difficult choices families made with the creation of Israel. An outstanding work!

Ariel Sabar's father fled Iraq with his family as a young boy, but was never able to truly let go. Today, he is one of the leading scholars of Neo-Aramaic, the language he grew up speaking but which most of the world has forgotten.

While Ariel's father clung to his past in Zakkho - his father's paradise - Ariel wanted to be an American. And an American he is, a journalist who was an intolerable teenager, who got involved in things he shouldn't have in high school, and who settled into a career in journalism before discovering that he'd been sitting on a big story all his life without even realizing it.

This is the story of the family of Yona, Ariel's father; the story of how he and his father grew apart and finally of journeys back to Iraq to try to put together a past forever lost.

The opening section, the story of the family, reads like a well-spun history. The story of Ariel and Yona manages to be open and honest without the exhibitionism so common to memoirs. And Ariel's story of his efforts to rediscover his family's past are heartbreaking, both for what he learned and what he didn't.

In a world gone global, it's hard to find places like Zakkho, places hidden away from the world. It's more astonishing to think, though, of that out of the way place where Jews, and Muslims and Christians lived side by side and mostly got along because the isolation of the mountains and the rivers played a larger role in their lives than which book they read for spiritual comfort. Ironically, the closest Ariel's father has come is the university classroom in Los Angeles.

This is a beautiful portrait of a family that is remarkable yet not so uncommon in our globalizing age, as well as a revelation about what multiculturalism and diversity are really about. A marvelous tale well and clearly told.

Ariel Sabar has done a remarkable job in relating his search for his father's past. What struck me about this story is that father and son were so far apart in their early relationship. Here was a son born in the U.S. and a father born in a remote part of the world most of us never heard about. Ariel was a typical wild teenager and not the least interested in his father's remarkable journey from a Kurdish background to Israel and eventually a professorship in a prestigious America University. His father's manners, customers and interests were foreign to him but an eventual awaking took place that set him on an incredible journey to understand and learn why his father was the man he was. The story takes us back to his father's earliest days, his family, traditions and boyhood lifestyle. It traces the exodus to Israel and eventually his immigration to the United States. His insight and knowledge of the Aramaic language made him one of the most sought after professors in his field. Yet Yona Sabar was almost unknown to his son until this boy finally saw something so special in his father. The stories and travels that eventually take place make for a wonderful read and a heartwarming story of a father and son finally becoming true family. Well worth the time and a great read!

Aramaic and a great-aunt kidnapped as an infant?
Unlikely but fascinating. Definitely worth buying. Culturally and linguistically, this book covers a lot of ground and is quite thought-provoking.

For many hundreds of years the small village of Zakho in Iraq was a quiet, unassuming place to raise a family. It rarely made its way into the annuls of history and nothing of any significance ever gave it a reason to change its primitive ways. Jews lived in harmony alongside Christians and Muslims. Until a war broke out in the 1950s that was so big Zakho couldn't hide in its corner of Iraq any longer. When the Kurdish Jews were offered a chance to escape to Israel, they left behind their previous lives to pursue paradise. Except Israel was anything but the promised land these Jews sought. To be a newly immigrated Kurdish Jew in Israel was to be the lowest of the low. It was at this time in history that Yona Beh Sabagha was coming of age. This displacement shaped the boy into a man. Determined to make something of himself in the face of difficult odds Yona invented himself in Israel(quite literally with the changing of his last name to Sabar), then reinvented himself in America as a renowned linguistics professor at UCLA.

Fast forward to the dawn of a new century. Ariel Sabar has spent his every moment rebelling against and distancing himself from his father, a man inconsistent with his fashionable L.A. surroundings; until the birth of his own son causes him to step into his father's shoes. It becomes the impetus for the journey to discover his roots and to understand the man his father is apart from being the father of Ariel Sabar.

This eloquent family history combines factual details with just the right amount of storytelling flare. I admire the way the author honors his father, a man of quiet dignity. And I am a little jealous of the rich family history he has to ground himself in. I sometimes got lost in the details about war and politics but these were not heavy nor did they at all detract from the story of this remarkable family. It is very readable. I highly recommend it.

Mr. Sabr weaves a moving and insightful tale of his personal family history with the greater history of the Jewish life in Kurdistan and Israel. Unlike many stories I have read that are set in the Middle East, his story is free from preachy advice, second guessing and solutions. Instead the reader is carried along through the wide range of human triumph and tragedy in the journey of one family from the ancient land of Judea to Los Angeles, California. The unfoldment of Mr. Sabr's relationship with his father, and with his ethnic roots, catches and holds a reader's attention. I wanted to read the whole story in one sitting and will gladly recommend this book to friends and family.

Part history of a disappearing culture, part family biography, part confessional catharsis, this book traces the lives of five generations of the author's family, and their journey from Kurdistan to Israel and the US. As someone interested in family geneology, this book provides a fascinating glimpse into the lives of a family from a very different part of the world, and their immigration experiences. As someone interested in history, this book covers a world of which I had no knowledge. As someone who likes to read, this book approached the subject with a tenderness and emotional honesty and introsprection that was rewarding, and made the book much more personal than simply family history -- it is both about family and the complex emotional bonds and upheavals as it is about family history, and the threads weaving through the past. It is about assimilation, discovery and survival.

Altogether, it was thought provoking and immersive.

Yona Sabar lived in Zakho, an isolated town in northern Iraq, until he was 12 years old. It seemed to be an idyllic life where Jews, Christians and Muslims lived in harmony. The language spoken was Aramaic, the language Jesus spoke. In March of 1951 his family emigrated to the newly formed state of Israel. Life in Israel, the Promised Land, was not what they expected. It was a very difficult life, yet through hard work and education Yona Sabar became a very successful man.

Yona's son wrote this book in an attempt to learn about his father's past. It is a very interesting and well-written story. As I read this book, I wished someone, had recorded stories and information about my Irish ancestors. This book is truly a gift to Ariel's children, his father, and all other Kurdish Jews.

In 1965, Yona's first year at Yale, he write to his sister Sara, "The more a society advances in a technical and material way, the more its people grow complicated and distant from one another." This was indeed a time of homesickness and disillusionment. The statement is profound and true even today. Families are so busy, they spend less time together than we did when my children were growing up, and even less time than my family did when I was growing up 60 years ago.

Before I read this book I was only vaguely familiar with the Kurdistan region and knew very little about the people or their culture. My thanks to the author for enlightening me, and I am sure a lot of other people. This is one of the best books I have read this year, and I have already promised to loan it to a friend.

I could not imagine a people with more strikes against them-to be Kurdish is bad enough-tough role to play in the world! And to be Jewish is bad enough-and outside Israel-it just doesn's seem like you would have much of a chance, considering all the talk of pushing Israel into the Red Sea or wiping it off the face of the earth...even the sentiment of U.S. Palestinians who seem to revile Jews make me think being Jewish is a tough call. So, put it all together: Kurdish, Jewish and Iraqi. Well, it sounds as if one has a bucket load of trouble just in being, with that mix.

But, what a surprisingly poetic, fluid read about dislocation, time, love and a world now changed irrevocably! Prompted by the birth of his own son, the author gives up his "modern, hip" evaluations and learns to understand his father and his life on its own terms.

I had no idea about Jewish-Kurdish Iraq before reading this, and felt as if I were looking into a world now vanished. The form of the book...what would you call it? It is a kind of biography, but it enlarges enough to bring into focus world events, and shows those agents of change in a microcosm that touches us, and helps us understand in a personal way the events of history. You might call this an historical biography.

I would think that any thoughtful reader would find beauty and meaning in this book, and that for Jews it would be especially insightful. If you are American-your people came from somewhere else, and many were in exile before landing on these shores. If you are Native American, your land was ripped from you, and you became an exile in your own land. I think, therefore, the issues of exile, the immigrant experience, the story of change, loss, adaptation, and even the cringing recognition of "not quite fitting in" are universally significant issues. My highest recommendation.

I am an avid reader and this is the finest book I have read this year. While nonfiction it has all the elements of a great story - many interesting characters, the sweep of history, and the struggle of a son to find his place within his family and of a father to survive and build his future, while remaining true to his past. It is a love story. And above all it is riveting, a page turner that is hard to put down and a story that stays with you. It is as if Ariel Sabar takes you in and makes you a part of his family.

My Father's Paradise is Ariel Sabar's captivating account of the plight of the Kurdish Jews in Iraq, as well as the story of his family's history. The book shifts from the social and political aspects of the culture and it's struggles to maintain the legacy of it's heritage and language to the tale of how his father, Yona, and his family lived in Zakho, a small town in Kurdish Iraq, and their eventual departure. But instead of being a quaint saga of a family's lineage, it is rather a homage to his father and the accomplishments he has made in the preservation of a people that are fast disappearing. I learned to love Yona Sabar, just as his son and students did. He humbled and awed me with the diligence that kept his people's language alive.

I came to this book with little familiarity of the region and it's people, and felt that the author excelled at highlighting the reasons and ramifications of the Jews eventual emigration to Israel from Iraq, and the adversity that they faced in their new home. It was distressing to realize that this modest group of people were hated and marginalized in a place that they hoped would be a haven and sanctuary for them. Against all the odds, Yona Sabar achieved what most had never dreamed of: success and notoriety as a professor, author, and language consultant. Though, sadly, he could not accomplish this in Israel. After moving to America, his success came with struggles to assimilate with its culture. These passages were deeply affecting and stirring. I felt heavyhearted reading about his loneliness and isolation in a new country, so alien from his own.

The author's relationship with his father was portrayed with unflinching honesty and true feeling. It seemed it was not always easy to have a father who was so different from everyone else. But the very things that initially created distance between father and son later came to be the things that brought them together. It was a poignant reversal that closed the generational gap. As the author searched for meaning and understanding in his father's past, his father became the touchstone of his ethnic identity.

This book ran the gamut of emotions: there was pleasure in the tale of the aged storyteller of the village, who used his stories to enlighten his people as well as attain his own ends; there was sorrow in the story of a missing relative who was lost in the sands of time; and there was anger in the subjugation of a noble people who struggled with their new circumstances. Though there was much sadness, I ultimately found this story as one of hope.

Another thing I liked about this book was the conversational style in which it was written. The information was not dumbed down for the audience, and neither was it too complicated to be accessible. I felt as though I got to know the author as well as the subject through his use of welcoming style of journalistic approach. The book includes black and white photographs as well as facsimiles of noteworthy documents. I found this extra detail very inviting. It was gratifying to be able to see some of the people who I was getting to know.

This was a very pleasing book. I learned a tremendous amount about a culture that was previously unknown to me, and the people inhabiting the pages were so detailed and their motivations were so amply described that I felt as though I could have been right there with them, comforting them when they cried, and sharing the sound of their laughter. Yona I found to be particularly enjoyable. He was funny and self-depreciating, as well as being intelligent and kind. His quest to save the Aramaic language was deeply impressive. I admired the skillful handling of these subjects by the author, and would definitely recommend this book to others.

The pages of "My Father's Paradise" read with so much genuine emotion - love, pathos, regret - that one has a hard time not becoming captured by the author's heartfelt feelings and crisp prose.

Ariel Sabar, a journalist whose father was born a Jew in Kurdish Iraq and arose to eventually arose to prominence as a renowned expert in Aramaic (the lingua franca of the Levant spoken by Jesus and which the Talmud was composed), literally tries to walk in his father's footsteps in order to create a true record of his heritage. Along the way he discovers that his father is far more than the anachronistic academic whom he found so embarrassing as a youth. And, though it sounds perhaps cliché, as Sabar learns to appreciate his father, so he likewise learns much about himself.

"My Father's Paradise" operates on several levels, and succeeds on all of them. First, it offers an overview into perhaps the most ancient, and among the least known, communities of the Jewish Diaspora. Sabar seeks to explain how they lived, their place in larger Kurdish society, and the reasons for their longevity. On a second level, he offers a view of his own family history, how they lived in their village of Zakho, their private grieves and joys, how they were expelled from Iraq after the re-birth of the state of Israel, and their struggles as immigrants in a society that was far less than that for which they hoped. Thirdly, the book explores his father's journey from Kurdistan to America and his difficulties as an immigrant, most of all with the American children whom he can barely understand.

Sabar's book, is not just informative, but genuinely gripping as he does not seek to sugar-coat either his failings or those of the people he loves. Readers will doubtless find much to enjoy in this fine revealing work.

"My Father's Paradise: A Son's Search for His Jewish Past in Kurdish Iraq" by Ariel Sabar, is a unique mix of jounalism and memoir, a novelistic work of non-fiction. Sabar recounts in great detail his family's history in Iraq and Israel, his father's immigration to America, and how the past forever affected both of their futures. It is a story filled with heartbreak and hope, offering historical sketches to fill in the time period and personal portraits of very real intriguing people.

The story of Ariel's father, Yona Sabar, is fascinating. He was born in Zakho, a corner of northern Iraq, where the isolated Jews grew up spoking Aramaic, a language that was supposedly dead. His childhood idyll was a life lived in harmony among their Muslim and Christian neighbors. The town was so isolated that news of the Holocaust and conflicts between Jews and Muslims in other parts of the Arab world were completely unbelievable. Yet in the aftermath of World War II, Yona Sabar and his family were forced to immigrate to Israel, the so-called "promised land" for Jews wishing to start over. The portrait that Sabar paints of Israel is a nation unprepared to handle such a large influx of peoples, where European Jews were given preference over their "uncivilized" Arab counterparts. Through hard work and education, Yona wins a scholarship to Yale University, and it is there that he learns to truly value his native language and sets out on a lifelong crusade to save it from extinction.

It is interesting to read about the history of the incredibly good relations between Jews and Muslims in the Arab world at the beginning of the twentieth century, but starkly realistic when Ariel and his father revisit the area in war-ravaged, unsafe times. Sabar does a commendable job of including historical details and information on language without seeming heavy-handed or distracting from the story at hand. Throughout his searching to learn more about his father's past, Sabar winds up learning more about his present and his future, as both men try to connect the thread of their heritage with that of their destiny. "My Father's Paradise" is truly an insightful and incredible story that people of all backgrounds will be able to relate to.

two lives? One life lived in Iran and one life lived in America. A beautiful book that gave me so much history of a jewish life in the midst of muslim country; the tolerance of two cultures living to observe rules and respect for each other. It appears there is more harmony than we are seeing in the world today. There is something about the 'old' life. I loved how the author flowed from historical facts to a portray of father, of conversations that could have happened.

There are so many books out there about Kurdish Jews, and this is definately one of my favorites. it is great when you are educated and entertained at the same time.

The book consists of three stories, really. First is the story of the author's grandparents in Zukho in Kurdish Iraq. They are descendants of the original Babylonian captivity, part of a Jewish community that has been in Mesopotamia for 2700 years. Their story is lyrical and beautiful.

Second is the story of the author's father, Yona. Forced to emigrate to Israel at age 12, he ultimately went to Yale and became a professor of Near Eastern Languages at UCLA. This is a compelling story of an immigrant who never fits in, and who builds his career on reconstructing the Aramaic language and culture of the town where he was born.

Third is the author's own story, in which he comes to understand his father better and then searches for the family roots in Iraq. The father-son material was appropriate in length to frame the first two stories, and I would have left the personal story there. Unfortunately, Sabar becomes obsessed with a search for his long-lost aunt in Iraq. No one in his family, none of his friends, and no one he meets in Iraq really understands this particular obsession. Neither did this reader.

The first two stories are so wonderful that I forgive Sabar the third. This book is highly recommended.

At heart this is about a Jewish man, born and raised in America, trying as a grown-up to find a connection to the immigrant father by whom he was baffled and embarrassed as a child. Ariel Sabar knows how to tell a story, however, and it's his writing and organization even more than the story itself that makes this book such a treasure. But the story is wonderful, too.

The book starts in the village of Zakho, in Kurdish Iraq, with the tale of its people, including the author's great-grandfather, Ephraim, the dyer, whom the locals believe talks to angels. Sabar makes the village and its inhabitants come alive and while I at times wished there were more photos included in the book, Sabar's writing is usually picture enough. Sabar's parents are married (arranged, of course), Sabar's father, Yona, and his siblings are born, and too many of them die. One goes tragically missing. Throughout the personal saga, Sabar presents a global context -- World Wars I & II, the relationship of his family's native language in Zakho (Aramaic) to the rest of Iraq, to the multi-culturalism and religious harmony of Kurdistan and how the area was divided in the wake of the first World War, to the changing attitudes toward Jews in Iraq and the Middle East and the foundation of Israel.

In the '50's Sabar's family relocates, not entirely willingly, to Israel, where they find not the holy land of their dreams, but a huge and unwelcoming city in which they are the lowest of the low. Most of the middle of the book follows Yona's tale as he works to make something of himself in this hostile environment, eventually earning a scholarship to Yale and becoming a respected professor of Neo-Aramaic at UCLA.

The final sections of the book recount the author's story and his attempts to reconnect with his roots in Iraq and reconcile himself with his father.

Wisely, Sabar distances himself from the earlier portions of the book and doesn't spend much time on his American upbringing and personal story, choosing only to interject himself into the tale as it relates to his family's past. The tale is about the people, but Sabar deftly weaves throught the book language, politics, religion, and poverty without letting any of them dominate.

Being from Los Angeles I find myself hoping one day that I will run into and recognize Ariel and Yona, so that I can smile at my fellow Angelino and the rumpled professor who has never felt like he truly belongs here. I know very little about my family before they emmigrated to New York, but somehow Sabar's book makes me feel as if I do. His family's story is that of everyone whose ancestors came here hoping for a better life for the people they loved, yet still missing that which was lost.

Thank you, Ariel Sabar for this beautiful and heartfelt book.

Ariel Sabar has done a fine job blending history into his family's story using his journalism background. While I disagree with much of his historical POV and conclusions, he does a fine job of teasing out his family's place and story in the generation before the expulsion of Iraqi Jewry.

The story and history of Jews in Kurdistan is an important one-- linguistically and culturally. I would love to see additional works in this area, although the opportunities to do this are rapidly dwindling as the generations age.

A deeply personal work, and well done.

This is an enjoyable book on many levels. First it is the story of a relationship of a father and a son, the clash of modern and traditional, a story of reconciliation between the two of them.

It is also a story of Kurdish Jews, their isolated lives, living amongst Moslems, and their exodus to Israel, and the hardships they endured, first in Iraq and then in Israel where they were looked down upon as not truly Jewish. Many Kurdish Israelis were forced to take the lowest paying jobs and discriminated against. Despite this some, including the father of the author, found academic success in America.

It is also a story about a journey back to Iraq where father and son seek to discover their roots and search for relatives.

Lastly it is about Aramaic and how the author's father became one of the foremost authorities on that language, preserving it from extinction.

For all of these reasons this is a very enjoyable book. If any or all of these topics interest you I think you will enjoy it too. It is very well written and readable. I recommend it highly.

I love how Ariel Sabar skillfully blends the search for his family history and Kurdish roots with his father's gifted preservation of written and spoken neo-Aramaic.

It was heartening to read how beautifully the Kurds, Jews, and Christians of Zakho intermingled while retaining their own particular life-style and religious customs.

Each one of us discovers our parents sooner or later in life. Hopefully we find them before they are six feet under. Ariel Sabar has the wisdom and drive to find his father while he is living. And what a beautifully complicated treasure he found in this humble and brilliant scholar, Yona Sabar.

But in the end, the person I came out admiring most was Ariel's grandmother Miryam. She knew such sorrow in her life and yet did not let it engulf her. She did not become bitter as a result of her losses.

Throughout her life the proverbial rug kept being pulled out from beneath Miryam's feet. And yet she kept her balance. She kept nurturing and loving her children and serving her husband. She gave them a soft place to fall even though she did not have one.

I loved learning about a place on earth where "once upon a time" men of varying heritages had the intelligence to embrace differences and get along with one another. I loved watching Ariel uncover the heart of his father. I was fascinated with the "discovery" of spoken Aramaic. But most of all I stand in awe of Miryam, the woman who is the warp and woof of this fascinating family.

Ariel Sabar's account of his family's history in Kurdish Iraq and his own relationship with his father has the detail and dream-like atmosphere of a Naguib Mahfouz novel.

The Sabagha family were Aramaic-speaking Jewish dyers and merchants in Kurdish Iraq. Sabar's narrative recounts events as far back as his great-grandfather's time, but focuses on his father, Yona Beh Sabagha. While he is a boy, Yona's family emigrates to Israel, at the strong suggestion of the Iraqi government. In Israel, Yona attends school at night, and eventually makes it into university, where the fact that he has native knowledge of the Aramaic language (or "Neo-Aramaic", being Aramaic in its last, dying phase) leads him to become a linguist, pursuing studies at Yale and eventually becoming a professor at UCLA and a leading scholar of Neo-Aramaic. Yona's son Ariel (the author) identifies more with mainstream American culture than with his father, but as he matures comes to see his father in a different light, and value his father's efforts to preserve the history, tradition and culture embodied in the Aramaic language. Son and father return to Zakho together as son researches the writing of his book, and seeks to resolve a family mystery.

This book is beautifully-written and a delight to read. It is structured like a novel, with resolution of a loss at the book's beginning coming only at the end. Like a good country music song, it abounds in particulars (details from life in Zakho before World War II and in Israel mid-century) while exploring an important universal theme -- the tension and interplay between the two necessary goods of valuing the past and seeking a better future.

Over a lifetime Ariel Sabar's father has traveled from a remote enclave of ancient Judaism in Kurdistan to the shanty towns of burgeoning Israel and finally to the coasts of America. Along the way he has played a seminal part in preserving the dying language of his people, Aramaic. In typical American teenage fashion, Ariel rejects his father and his father's history in his attempt to assimilate into Southern California youth culture. Later, as an adult greeting his own newborn son into the world, Ariel awakens to the value of the past, to the stabilizing potential of a historical foundation dating back thousands of years. Rallying his skills as a professional journalist, Ariel sets out to document his family's history for himself and his son, hoping to rekindle his relationship with his father along the way. This story of the troubled young first generation American grappling with cultural identity is quick becoming archetypal and Sabar's story could easily wander into the territory of familiar platitudes. However the inspiring honesty, thorough reporting, and unique backdrop of this story allow it to sidestep these dangers. Sabar has written a fascinating and moving family story.

The Kurdish homeland of the lost tribe of Israel is the historical starting point of the story. The Sabar family (originally the Beh Sabagha family) are traders and cloth dyers, and Ariel Sabar's father roams his small town with the perfect confidence that comes from being deeply enmeshed in a seemingly unshakeable social network. The book is worth reading if only for the depictions of Muslims, Christians, and Jews living in peace and mutual respect for generations in remote Kurdistan. The longstanding peace is shaken as larger Iraq responds to the creation of Israel, and eventually the Jews of the town move en masse to the young Jewish state, much to the sorrow of their neighbors.

Israel fails to be the promised land the Sabar family hoped for, and the trials of poverty are almost eclipsed by the prejudice and ridicule afforded these Middle Eastern Jews by their European brethren. This astonishing bias, documented with quotes from leading Israelites of the time, is another historical vignette that would individually make the book worthwhile. In an effort to avoid stigmatization, most Kurdish Jews attempt to distance themselves from the past and their native Aramaic. Ariel's father takes the opposite route, stumbling into a niche as an academic linguist who is also a native speaker of a dying language. His profession eventually leads him to America, a place he finds lonely and lacking in simple human emotion. Although successful, he never regains the confidence of his boyhood in Kurdistan.

This story is told with really refreshing honesty, as Ariel freely admits his own faults and those of his relations. He does not judge nor mythify, and manages to convey a seemingly unbiased history while still evoking a real sense of warmth towards the various friends and relations that take part in his story. The writing is as clear and unembellished as the telling itself. Ariel's story lacks a pat ending: there is no final ultimate absolution of the rift between father and son, no recovery of long lost family members, no transformational moments. Just a man hoping to preserve a dying thing, to teach his son to avoid the mistakes he feels he has made in life. I finished this book glad to have learned about Jewish Kurds and their experience in Israel, and honored to have been able to read this intimate story, which very much feels as if it was written not for the reading public but for the author and his loved ones

This wonderful book is a book about a father, lovingly told by his son. Yona Sabar is a Kurdish Jew who grew up in Zakho, a town he thinks of as his paradise. He was the last Jew to have his bar mitzvah there, before he immigrated to Israel, when he was twelve, with his family, where they were treated even more poorly then they were back home by their Moslem neighbors, as Kurdish Jews were at the bottom of the pecking order in Israel.

In his new land Yona worked days, went to high school nights and earned admission to Hebrew University, where his love and knowledge of Aramaic earned him a scholarship to Yale University in America and from their he went onto a professorship at UCLA in Los Angeles where he raised his son, Ariel, the writer of this story.

Ariel was a typical Southern Californian teenager who was embarrassed by his father's odd ways. He doesn't respect his father, not until he graduates from college, becomes a journalist and has his own family. Ah, isn't that always the way. Ariel wants to know about his past and journeys with his father to Zakho, the place Yona calls paradise, and it is here where Ariel finally begins to understand his father and the love he has for Zakho.

Not only will you read a heartwarming and sometimes close to heartbreaking story that almost reads like a novel, but you'll also walk away with a pretty good understanding about the politics of the Middle East. This is a fine book, one I can't recommend highly enough.

Outstanding! Having served in that part of the world and having read extensively of the religious history throughout the Middle East, I needed a narrative such as this to provide the human element to make the story of Kurdistan come alive. On at least two occasions I felt tears starting to form as Ariel told the story of his quest to locate his father's sister, kidnapped 70 years earlier.

This is an easy book to read; it should be in the carry-on of every serviceman or woman headed to Afghanistan or Iraq. If anyone questions the mission, this will put things into perspective.

For readers with little understanding of this part of the world, it might be helpful to spend a bit of time on the internet familiarizing oneself with the geography, the religion, and to some extent, the politics. The politics are least important but the geography and religion are crucial for a better understanding of the book.

Ariel's father is a UCLA professor of Aramaic which still exists in remote and very isolated parts of Kurdistan - some of these areas are no doubt not much more than a single village in a remote valley. The book would have benefited from an appendix on Aramaic, and I expected more background than I found as I continued reading. I found it interesting, and unfortunate, that the author's father did not provide a scholarly synopsis of a subject that is so dear to him. This book was published after Mel Gibson's highly successful movie containing Aramaic dialogue and the response to that movie suggests many readers might be interested in learning more about Aramaic.

An appendix on the changing geographical boundaries of Kurdistan would have also been helpful to those new to the region, and delightful for those with an interest regardless of expertise. Maps are essential for this type of book; I was surprised there was only one map, too general to be of much interest.

Asking for these appendices is the right side of my brain writing. The left side of the brain has nothing but praise for this book.

The reach of this book can be understood by thinking where you would put it in your library. It is a heartfelt family drama full of varied emotions, coming of age, sorrow and appreciation. It is likewise an amazing historical account of what happened to those Jews long ago who were carried off into captivity. Jews in Kurdistan, Iraq , spoke Aramaic, got along with Christian and Arab neighbors for over two millenia and had their own traditions, customs, dress and perspectives. Ariel Sabar brings in all these facts while creating a loving , very personal story of his relationship to his past. You meet memorable personalities who stand out in their very simplicity. You likewise take your own journey into the past and present while walking along with Ariel in his . This is a special book. Read it. You will not be disappointed.

We've all heard of Kurdistan, of course--especially the Iraqi portion. And those like me who are either of Jewish descent, interested in languages, or both, have heard of Kurdish Jews and the fact that they were some of the last remaining speakers of Aramaic. But never before had I gotten such a deep insight into their culture and struggles to assimilate in the new state of Israel. They truly had more in common with their fellow Kurds than their Ashkenazi co-religionists in Israel, and this seems to have been a major reason the author's father elected to stay in the U.S. after receiving his Ph.D. at Yale. It's slightly mistitled in that, while Ariel Sabar's search and desire to reconcile with his family's past was the genesis of the book, it really reads more as a biography of his father Yona, now a UCLA professor, and of the entire Kurdish Jewish community. The son's own story, while touching, almost seemed an afterthought.

I understand from the introduction that some dialogue was made up and some composite characters were created, so while this isn't quite creative nonfiction, it's not journalism either. That makes for an excellent read, but it also makes me wonder if there's an accessible but more hisoriographic book on this subject out there.

At any rate, my thanks to Ariel Sabar for writing this and painting a vivid picture of a world I think few people know ever existed... one that was turned upside down in the space of his father's childhood and is now almost nonexistent. My thanks, too, to Yona Sabar for his important scholarship. I had no idea how important this man was to the study of Neo-Aramaic and am glad he didn't suffer the fate of too many of his fellow Mizrahi immigrants to Israel. Highly recommended.

Ariel Sabar's brilliant personal and family history is one of the most fascinating books I have read in a long time. Part history, part personal memoir, part logbook of a voyage of discovery, this book both enlightens and entertains. Set in Kurdish Iraq, in Israel, and in the academic environs of Yale University, this is narrative history at its best.

There is a lyrical quality about Sabar's prose which is almost Biblical. Steeped in the language and literature of the Aramaic, which Abrahanm ibn-Ezra called "the first of all languages," Sabar writes as a kind of Israelite wanderer, invoking the rhythms and passion and vision of the desert peoples. This book equals and perhaps surpasses Bruce Feiler's estimable Walking the Bible: A Journey by Land Through the Five Books of Moses (P.S.) as a moving introduction to Judaica. It accomplishes what the best of historical writing brings to the table--a rich introduction to a profound subject.

I hope there are more books inside Ariel Sabar.

Sabar, Ariel. "My Father's Paradise: A Son's Search for his Jewish Past in Kurdish Iraq", Algonquin, 2008.

Reconciling Past and Present

Amos Lassen

We really do not have a great deal of literature about Jewish life in Iraq so "My Father's Paradise" is extremely welcome. Ariel Sabar, a noted journalist gives us a look at past and present in the Arab country and it is all fascinating.
Kurdish Iraq can be described as "a remote and dusty corner of the world, long forgotten for nearly 3000 years." Here they still spoke Aramaic and most of the people had a degree of literacy. They believed in mysticism and they told stories and supported themselves by humble and honest work. The people of Kurdish Iraq lived peacefully with their neighbors who were Muslims and Christians.
The Jewish community of northern Iraq originated with the tribes of Israel and in this community Ariel Sabar's father, Yona, was born. Yona came to the States and in the 1980's was a professor at UCLA where he worked with the Aramaic language. At the same time, his son was experimenting with becoming a drummer in a rock band. When Ariel's son was born in 2002, he began to understand the meaning of fatherhood and became involved in the history of his family. As Sabar unearths information, he shares it with us and we learn of the daily life in the village of Zahko and then he moves onto the daily life of the Kurdish Jews when they came to Israel after having been expelled from Iraq in 1951. 120,000 Kurdish Jews, a large element of the Diaspora which was virtually unknown, went to Israel in the 50's where they were considered "backward and simple". It seemed that their heritage and life would never be known but when Yona came to America; he was determined to preserve the Kurdish traditions and dedicated his career to it. It took for Ariel to have a son of his own to understand his father's passion.
Yona and Ariel went to Iraq to find what was left of Zahko and they learn the story of the Sabar family as well as an epic saga of hope and tolerance. The characters that father and son meet are a gallery of unforgettable people--linguists, Arab and Kurdish chieftains, nomads and Bedouins, religious believers. We get an eyewitness account of the history of a place that has vanished but remains in a place that monopolizes the attention of today's world.
Ancient Iraq and 21st century America are indeed worlds apart; "My Father's Paradise" brings them together through beautiful prose and intense storytelling. Several times my eyes filled with tears as I read, both from the depth of the tales and the beauty of the prose. It is so good to have this book! It fills a void which existed for too long and gives the Kurdish Jews their proper place. I remember spending an evening with a Kurdish family when I lived in Israel and although the details are fuzzy, the book reminded me of it and just that is enough for me.