While it may take a few pages to get in accord with Chabon's rhythm, it becomes a great, fanciful ride. Creative use of English and Yiddish spices the already interesting storyline, told in the noir style of a fictional urban shtetl. I searched the book for an unimaginative sentence and could not find one. My only gripe is the short shrift given to the ending, leaving this reader a bit confused and unsatisfied.

Having finished The Adventures of Kavalier & Clay a few months ago with a sense of post-coital satisfaction, I admit to having high expectations when I began The Yiddish Policemen's Union. Michael Chabon sets the novel in an alternate universe, wherein Israel failed as a country in 1948, and the US set up the District of Sitka in southeastern Alaska as a temporary settlement for displaced Jews. Now, the sixty year lease on the District has only two months to go, and Detective Meyer Landsman, homicide division, is under strict orders to finish off his backlog of cases, preferably without the annoyance of actually investigating them. But the more Landsman tries to figure out the murder of a junkie who lived in his building, the further he becomes drawn into the scheming motivations of the orthodox underworld.

Chabon structures the novel's language to match his historical revisioning. "I felt like I had to invent a whole new language, a dialect," he states in a NY Times article, reprinted in the P.S. paperback edition. This dialect helped me feel as if I were in a different place, one where Yiddish, hostility, and humor merge to form a detective who reads as if from behind the fog of a hangover. Unfortunately, this also keeps Landsman from feeling real. Indeed, although the third-person narration stays with him throughout the novel, for me, Landsman was one of the least interesting characters.

More involving is Landsman's partner and cousin, Berko Shemets, a half-Indian man whose multiculturalism opens the door for the novel to explore issues of ethnic tensions in and around the District. Since Chabon shoves a lot implications about US foreign policy and religious fervor into the last part of the novel, it would have been nice if he took his time in considering those matters through thoughtful characters like Berko. In the end, though, The Yiddish Policemen's Union depends more upon deus ex machina plot devices than careful layering and presentation of complex themes.

When earlier in the year on NPR I heard about Michael Chabon's The Yiddish Policemen's Union, I immediately knew I wanted to read it, yet within twenty pages I began to suspect I'd made a mistake in buying what was far more a film noir sort of tale than the sociological one I'd been hoping for. So, yes, I was disappointed in this book. It starts off with a scenario sure to whet curiosity, this Jewish colony existing and thriving in Alaska, but whereas I wanted the novel to be an exploration of this intriguing concept, it was a crime story instead. I admit it wasn't a bad detective novel and I did stick around to see how it came out, but I'm not a big fan of that genre as much as I am one of alternate history, and I wanted to see more concentration on this hypothetical Yiddish culture atop the Pacific than Chabon gave it. I guess my giving this book three stars instead of higher is more reflective of my own disappointment than in this being in any way a bad book, because it wasn't. It just was not what I wanted it to be and I bet I'm not alone there.

The Yiddish Policemen's Union by Michael Chabon: Ghetto Mentality Retrogression

Review by Arthur L. Finkle

Mr. Chabon writes a masterpiece of a "what-if" portion of history. In this case, what if the Jews lost their War on Independence on 1948?

The solution was one proffered at that time, of region in Sitka Alaska for a 40 year term, after which there would be no more sanctuary.

In clear, lyric writing, Chabon brings out the historical facts and dress them with the "ghetto mentality" prevalent in European Jewry. No longer did the "New Jew" posses the Spartan-like Israeli warrior; instead, we still have the pacifistic minority who try to eke out a living. We see that self-determination is not even on the radar screen for this forlorn group.

This mystery is shrouded with "Jewish-isms" - the cerebral approach; psychological turmoil; lust for life (over cover); some of the underground elements (which include some of the arcane elements of the red heifer paradox). It even characterizes the Chasidim, as the Other, as well as the fractious Jewish community.

I used this book in a book club with extraordinarily good results, particularly showing how the World War 2 generation coped to survive in a world hostile to Jews.
The Yiddish Policemen's Union: A Novel (P.S.)

Writing Style - 3/5
Characters - 2
Storyline - 1
Resonance - 2

The Not-Too-Revealing Synopsis
A murder that no one wants to talk about takes place in a alternate history-Jewish enclave in Alaska just as relations between it and the larger state and nation reach maximal strain.

The Review
Chabon's Alaskan settlement and its' problems are both believable and interesting. Chabon's plot and characters are not. We are introduced to every good guy and bad guy cliche with the wild twist that they are your normal good guys and bad guys - they're Jewish good guys and bad guys. The writing isn't just adorned with Yiddish linguistic idiosyncrasies and Jewish cultural novelties, it's bludgeoned with them. Every problem and every solution runs through Alaska, runs through the this particular Bay and runs through the Jewish community. It is too neat, too predictable and wholly unsatisfying. The best part about the book are three minor characters that are certainly not worth the read to get to. They alone provided intrigue. A dose of moderation could have brought the different, promising elements together in this work. Instead everything was so heavily painted it bled and left an ugly, muddled picture. I do not recommend this book.

Chabon creates an absorbing counterfactual world with a hard-boiled detective story inside it. Informative and hilarious, big chunks of the book are as good as any fiction I've read. Chabon is a terrific writer. The ending does not do the rest of the book justice, but I flew through this book and really enjoyed it. It's along the lines of "Gun with Occasional Music" by the brilliant Jonathan Lethem and "Hard-Boiled Wonderland & the End of the World by Haruki Murikami. Highly recommended.

This is a book I am not allowed to read in bed, as my husband is opposed to books that make me cackle while he's trying to sleep.

" According to doctors, therapists, and his ex-wife, Landsman drinks to medicate himself, tuning the tubes and crystals of his moods with the crude hammer of hundred-proof plum brandy. But the truth is that Landsman only has two moods: working and dead. ...He has the memory of a convict, the balls of a fireman, and the eyesight of a housebreaker. When there is crime to fight, Landsman tears around Sitka like a man with his pant leg caught on a rocket. It's like theres a film score playing behind him, heavy on the castanets."

Our hero, detective Landsman, has spend the night in his partner's bed. Which was invaded by small children. It was not restful. Upon rising, he speaks to his hostess

" You have a serious toenail problem among your youth," Landsman says. "Also something, I think it might be a sea otter, died and is rotting in the little one's diaper."

Chabon is never going to convince me that he has NOT shared a bed with a four-year old at some point.

Also:

" Every generation loses the messiah it has failed to deserve.

I finished it up yesterday. At then end, all the plot lines slammed together is a frothy stew of of beautiful coincidence. This book caters to my known preferences for character-based writing with a coherent plot. Nothing that happened was out of character, and the writing was lyrical and expressive.

I think the theme of this book is redemption. There is a running chess motif. Landsman's heart is described as making a "knight move in his chest", which is really evocative. I thought the last third of the book was a little slow, but I ripped through it at a pretty good pace, so it's not like it was so sludge-slow.

One of the interesting things I noticed was that I was unclear on when exactly the story was set. There were more and more clues, but it started like it could have been an alternate history Maltese Falcon, and as the story goes on, it becomes more and more firmly seated in time.

Read this if: you like alternate ethnography and history, if you have a burning need for more Yiddish flavor in your life, if you are a fan of chess, character-based writing, or weird lyricism.
Avoid if: you hate ambiguous endings, "artistic" writing, noir, or hats

Prior to U.S. involvement in World War II President Roosevelt proposed establishing a temporary Jewish settlement on the Alaskan panhandle. In The Yiddish Policemen's Union, Pulitzer Prize-winning author of The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay Michael Chabon takes that premise and creates an alternate reality in which the impending "Reversion" (the frozen Chosen are about to be displaced from their temporary homeland) is but a few weeks away. Initially this is mere backdrop for the story of Meyer Landsman, a Sitka police detective suffering a bad case of bottle abuse the result of a never-born child and subsequent divorce, the possibility that his sister was murdered, and a father who committed suicide.

Landsman awakes in his fleabag hotel room one morning to learn that one of the other tenants has been murdered. Landsman learns the corpse is a chess prodigy and heroin addict, but also the wayward son of a powerful head of a Jewish sect and, possibly, the key to the future of the "Alyeskan" Jews. Against the orders of his boss, who also happens to be his ex-wife, Landsman's investigation, with help from his half-Tlingit, half-Jewish partner and half-cousin, takes him into the underworld of Orthodox black-hat gangs and crime-lord rabbis.

Chabon pays homage to Hammett and Chandler but manages to bring something new to the genre, and although some readers may find the narrative pushes the limits of their endurance - characters have skin "as pale as a page of commentary" and rough voices "like an onion rolling in a bucket;" "In the street the wind shakes rain from the flaps of its overcoat;" he writes of his protagonist, "Something wistful tugs at his memory, a whiff of some brand of aftershave that nobody wears anymore, the jangling chorus of a song that was moderately popular one August twenty-five summers ago." - others will be entranced.

If the plot of Policemen's Union is a trifle complex and its denouement - composed of elements of international terrorists complicated by a religious conspiracy and a group of end-of-the-world zealots - a little over the top, Chabon's treatment of this alternate history, its discount houses, seedy bars and pie shops, is razor sharp. The settings, the characters, the narrative all drive the plot. In Landsman Chabon has created a Jewish Phillip Marlowe (replete with porkpie hat); but where Marlowe is rather one-dimensional, Landsman is the everyman antihero, as prone to fits of self-pity and the urge to return to his room, and his bottle of slivovitz and his World's Fair souvenir glass, as he is committed to solving the mystery of this murder and tying it to the untimely death of his sister, all the while ruing his divorce while lacking the courage to make amends. The reader is compelled to follow Landsman across the pages to see what happens next, who he will meet next, whether it's the pie man's daughter or the diminutive Tlingit police inspector named Willie Dick (honest!).

Chabon also deftly explores the relationship between fathers and sons as well as what it means to be displaced - a people without a homeland, or as Landsman himself says, "My homeland is in my hat."

Highly recommended.

J. Conrad Guest for The Smoking Poet

I bought this book, because like some others here I was duped by the hype, and also because -- appearance-wise -- this paperback is one of the most gorgeously designed I've ever seen. They certainly gave him the star treatment.

But what about the content, you ask?

I couldn't finish it. I got almost halfway through and because I felt like ripping my hair out I had to put it down. An overly fussy style coupled with a plodding pace is a recipe for BOREDOM. I do like challenging stuff, stuff that's different, outre', whatever you want to call it. But this book tries WAY too hard to be "literary" and "clever" and so becomes obnoxious as hell. This is exactly the kind of book that gives "literature" a bad name. I'd rather read anything by James Patterson or Danielle Steele (and I hate those guys) than be forced to finish this book with all its over-baked metaphors, similes, and show-offy nonsense on every page.

I think Chabon would've done well to heed some of John Gardner's advice about writing:
"...such writers do present characters, actions, and the rest, but becloud them in a mist of beautiful noise, forever getting in the way of *what* they are saying by the splendor of their way of saying it. Eventually one begins to suspect that the writer cares more about his gift than about his characters."

Also: "He tries to make every chapter zing, tries dense symbolism and staggeringly rich prose; he violates the novelistic pace."

P.S. -- The fact that this book won a Nebula is a joke. I can think of at least a dozen Sci-Fi writers who are way more talented than Chabon, but who aren't getting anywhere near his level of fame and financial success. It really is a cruel world.

I almost gave up on this book. I'm not Jewish and I found the generous serving of Yiddish words to be very discouraging and a barrier to appreciating the book fully. At page 150 I was ready to put it down, but because the book received so much praise (I think the Economist called it one of the best books of 2007), I forced myself to continue and am so glad I did. I finally got into the groove of the novel and found myself awestruck by the way the author's words could capture such true-to-life feelings and conversations. The author's writing style and the way he can write a conversation between characters makes other authors' representations of characters and words seem contrived. WARNING - Plot spoiler: He even got me to accept the eventual reuniting of Detective Landsman and his ex-wife as a perfectly natural thing (even though at the beginning of the book, the only thing I hoped for was that the author would not pander to the audience's natural desire for happy endings). All I can say to those who are turned off by the book is to keep at it, you'll be rewarded. You may even speak Yiddish by the end of it.

I had heard many good things about the writer and this book, and based upon this I was looking forward to reading this work. The writer is very skillful in setting up his story as well as its setting. It is understood that a portion of any book is taken up by the writer setting up his plot line as well as introducing his characters. It is unfortunate that it takes over 200 pages for the book to begin moving its plot line with any sustained interest. I was continually asking myself, "Why have I not put this book down?". It is not well done at all. Aside from the three major characters, the writrt does a poor job in character development. The book finally picks up with one or two surprises existing. Numerous characters drop in and out without any real development. The book leaves much to be desired as it plods alog into mediocrty. For a good nights rest, one might wish to consider it. It an be said of this story that the juice received at the end is NOT worth the squeeze.

Michael Chabon has written a masterpiece of a mystery with The Yiddish Policemen's Union. Imagine Fargo in Alaska, with an imaginary Jewish community. In his book, Chabon has rewritten history - making the area around Sitka, Alaska a temporary homeland for the Jewish nation after (in the book) the nation of Israel has failed. In two months, this temporary oasis will revert to its former status as part of the US and all inhabitants will need to apply for permanent residency or be kicked out, facing a new diaspora.

In the midst of these unsettling events, Landsman the homicide detective faces unsettling of his own. He is burned out, living in a flop house where a dead body has just shown up. His ex-wife has just become his boss. And he's sporting serious, constant questions about what to do with his life, now that he doesn't really have a life.

To tell the plot would be to spoil the plot, so let's satisfy ourselves with the word that the pacing is slow at first but draws the reader into an imaginary world. By the end of the 1st act of the book, you are engrossed and cannot stop.

I would be remiss to not mention that there has been criticism of the book for its depiction of Jews in Alaska as criminals and as argumentative. This is fair, but one must remember this is a story where the lead is a homicide detective and the entire culture is unsettled by possibly being returned to exile.

And that's the masterpiece of the book. What would people do to discover permanence? What would Landsman do? And in this mystery wrapped within a mystery novel, Chabon presents a beautiful puzzle.

This book was so boring. I have tried several times to get through it, but finally gave in and took it to the used book store. I can count on one hand the number of books I simply could not get through and this is at number 1. I don't know how or why this book received such rave reviews.

I've been surprised that the book's got both Hugo and Nebula.
Basically it has been my main motivation to read it.
Well, I could name the books published in 2007 that would make better candidates for the prizes.

I grew up in the old Jewish quarters of Kiev, Ukrainian city.
It has been once a place of thriving Yiddish culture; not anymore - after Babyi Yar (the Holocaust massacre place in Kiev) and after massive Jewish immigration to US-Israel in 70-90s. So I know this flavor very well, it was my childhood.

I would say - if you erase all those terrible yiddish names-definitions from the book, it would loose a half of it's flavor and meaning.
I mean - it's tucky and too much.

Only because I hated to give up on the book I have read laborously through 28 chapters. I finally just decided
in spite of not knowing the meaning to most of the words I would try to find a plot. However other than putting
me quickly to sleep every time I try to read it it has become a challenge even finding a plot. If you don't know anything about Jews or Chess it is not a book that a you would enjoy reading. I think the people who say that they enjoyed it are Jewish Chess players just trying to make you think that they are intellectuals. Noone could possibly have enjoyed this terribly written book. If this is one of the best books of 2007 I would not want to get
near any of the worst! A complete disappointment!

The Yiddish Policemen's Union is a delightfully fun read set in part of Alaska set aside as a refuge for the Jews after the Holocaust. The United States, after the Israelis lost their war for independence, leases the territory to the Jews for sixty years. But now the lease is up and most of the Jews will have to find another home. This sets of a series of events that starts with the death of a chess prodigy and continues through convolutions that would take the Eruv Maven to sort out.

Instead of Hebrew and redemption, the they speak the Yiddish of exile. Many of the metaphors that seem odd in English work well when understood that it is meant to be understood as a literal translation of the Yiddish (translated back to Yiddish it works). Buildings and streets have names culled from the cannon of Yiddish literature. The reader familiar with Yiddish language and literature will have to stop every few pages to laugh with recognition, at least until the tragedy embedded in the plot becomes apparent.

The reader unfamiliar with Yiddish will definitely miss most of the inside jokes, like a Shoyfer (Shofar-ritual horn -- Cell phone), Sholem for a gun (Shalom-Peace-Piece),and Shomer (watchman for a corpse before burial). Leo Rosten's The Joys Of Yiddish could be a helpful companion book.

Peel away all the Yiddish jargon and what I found left was your average cozy mystery. I understand a lot of Yiddish and I still found myself having trouble following the dialogue. It was confusing keeping all the names straight. "Yid" this and "Yid" that - everywhere like too much salt on the meat. OY. And please, with all the Yiddish jargon to make us feet right at home in fantasy-land Jewish Alaska, and then he writes about "noodle pudding"? What?!?! Why not just say kugel? For goodness sakes. I found this book tedious to read and get through. Ultimately a somewhat satisfying mystery. But I don't get all the hype unless it's just for the sake of uniqueness. Sorry.

There have been enough reviews of Michael Chabon's "The Yiddish Policemen Union," that I see no advantage in summarizing the plot of his book once again. What I want to discuss is the author's confused and confusing use of two languages.

In Chabon's author's note he acknowledges Reb [sic] Valadimir Nabokov. That "Reb" was completely bilingual. He understood the character of Russian as well as English; he wrote books in both languages. When it comes to being bilingual, Chabon is no Nabokov. These days, progressive editors permit authors to use foreign words or terms without italicizing them, provided readers will understand them from the context, because they are repeated often enough. Chabon's first mistake is using hundreds of Yiddish words that readers cannot understand from the context. Some reviewers suggested that Chabon should have added a Yiddish glossary at the end of the book. Chabon's readers are not college students who must struggle with obscure texts with words they need to look up. His second mistake is a complete lack of understanding of the spirit of Yiddish, even though he is familiar with the vocabulary. For instance: He refers to the personal weapons of the cops in Sitka as "sholem," which is supposed to be a translation of "peace maker." (Are there cops today who refer to their weapons as peace makers?) It borders on the ridiculous to use this Yiddish word for a weapon, because it just means peace (without "maker"). If this is supposed to be a Chabon linguistic joke, non-Yiddish-speaking readers won't get it; and most Yiddish speakers will not be amused.

As Chabon tells his story, the Jews of Sitka speak mostly Yiddish. If that is so, the protagonist, not a particularly well-educated cop, would not think in terms of an "inverse satori," a Japanese Zen Buddhist concept. Readers may feel that "satori" was used solely to show the author's erudition. If Yiddish is the prevailing language of Sitka, one would assume that the inhabitants would speak it idiomatically. Why would they say, in THEIR language, "I want you should," which native-Yiddish speakers sometimes use in English?

Yiddish is an earthy language, given to simple and very strong expressions, not the baroquely ornate English the author uses throughout the work. I have no quarrel with his style, but it does not fit into the language of Sitka. It is, to use a Chabonism, de trop. Foreign words in an English text are the frosting on the cake. The cake is the plot. Shakespeare wrote Hamlet without using Danish words, and Romeo and Juliet without Italian.

I'll end with my own obiter dictum - I believe I have caught the Chabon linguistic bug. How can one write about a Jewish autonomous region in Alaska, established in 1948, without mentioning Birobijan? It is a remote area in Siberia, adjacent to the Chinese border that Stalin established in 1928 as an Autonomous Jewish Region - a Soviet planned competitor to the emerging Jewish homeland in Palestine. There are at least two striking similarities: The biting cold of Birobijan in wintertime (probably worse than in Alaska), and Yiddish as a semi-official language. Just as in Sitka, even under the communists, there must have been ordinary Yiddish-speaking cops on duty, to keep the new inhabitants in line.

I'm not Jewish and I don't know Yiddish at all. Apparently, unless you have one or both of those qualifications, you may not like this book. I've gotten far in the book but I'm waiting still to like the story or for something to happen to make me understand all the good reviews. Seeing Mr. Chabon's tight smile on the book insert at the end seems to be trying to reassure that it will get better but I think it won't. I am leaving a bad review b/c I think I know at this point that I will never get into the book although I understand the basic story but can't get any enjoyment out of it since I don't understand what they're really saying.

I have very mixed feelings about this book. The alternative history is interesting
and believable. The characters are embedded in the history, as opposed to some books
where the history feels contrived to allow one or a few scenes. The characters are
very human, a mixture of strengths and weaknesses and most of the charactes have motives
that are sometimes base and sometimes noble. The writing is skillful; I felt I
would recognize some of the scenes and people if I encountered them.

The book seemed to emphasize stereotypical Jewish characteristics. I got the same feeling
I get when I encounter most black family TV shows: I don't want to be here; I'm embarrassed
to see this. Only the good writing got me to finish the book. I think I would have
enjoyed it more if the book was considerably shortened. Some of the writing rules might
have been: Most nouns and verbs should not appear in public with out a modifier. Simple
modifiers are not as nice as similes and metaphors. Two of them are better than one.
Have lots of parenthetical phrases. No, I don't have suggested edits. Many words and
phrases that Strunk and White fans would strike out are inventive imagery, even beautiful.

I listened to it, rather than turning pages. I have no Yiddish, but felt no regret that
I could not stop to look up a word. The unknown word was either obvious from the context
or did not seem to matter.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book. Imaginative premise, compelling characters, innovative prose. The only reason I didn't give it five stars (I'd have given it 4.5 if that were possible) is that I would have expected, especially from a Jewish author, a better understanding of his people's millennial yearnings of return to their ancestral country. There's an undercurrent of negative attitude to Zionism in this book, that reflects the superficial fads of the Sushi-Organic- Latte-Obama crowd, to which this Berkeley based author probably belongs. Hopefully he'll grow wiser on this subject when he matures.

This is a fun, fast paced, brilliantly imagined detective story set in a fanciful present. Might be particularly interesting for those with an affinity/awareness/interest in Jewish culture. As this is an audio book,the reading is as critical as the writing, and we are very impressed by the great job Peter Riegert does in moving this along without indulgence or conceit, and in giving the many characters their own voice -with subtle nuances of dialect and inflection. Bravo to author and reader!

I thought at the end there would be some great insightful, philosophical meaning to this book. I kept reading it even though it took five weeks because I don't speak Yiddish and there was no plot to follow. At the end, and this is a spoiler, all that happens is nothing. It was probably the worst book I have ever stubbornly stuck through. I really like this author, and you can tell he expended a ton of energy and time researching and writing this long novel, but in the end it was all wasted. It just isn't that good and is completely uninteresting. I wait anxiously for his next book.

I though that I was familiar with the Yiddish vocabulary, but I could not understand any slang. I also couldn't care less. I didn't relate at all with the story and any of the characters. Actually I found everything very annoying. When I drop a book, it is because there is absolutely no way to proceed. I am very benevolent with books, but this one didn't have a chance. Congratulations to those that read it and enjoyed. I'll wait for the Cohen brothers movie.

I had heard about this book and this author, and figured I would get around to reading it. What prompted me to actually buy it was the coupon from Borders I received for reviewing the first four chapters.

These first chapters were intriguing. I naturally thought the whole book was going to be like this - a unique combination of various genres. Being of Eastern European Jewish descent myself, I looked forward to a lot of the Jewish in-jokes other reviewers have mentioned.

Unfortunately, as others have also mentioned, the tone became as dreary as the weather, and there was virtually no payoff to plodding through to the end.

I will defintely read his other works. They all can't be winners.

I though that I was familiar with the Yiddish vocabulary, but I could not understand any slang. I also could care less. I didn't relate at all of the story and any of the characters. Actually I found everything very annoying. When I drop a book, it is because I really need it. I am very benevolent with books, but this one didn't have a chance. Congratulations to those that read it and enjoyed. I wait for the Cohen brothers movie.

I picked up this book after seeing the title recommended again and again. It is not only an intriguing story but is well-written as well. Chabon has that rare ability to pack a lot into every sentence, never wasting a word. I thought his style was a little hard to read at first, but once I got into it, I was rewarded over and over by his mastery of the language and his ability to tell a terrific story.

I immediately got a copy of his pulitzer prize winner, which is an easier style to read. Chabon is a real find if you like well-written literature.

Slynn

Murder, intrigue, love, sex, chess, and conspiracy, all served on a platter crafted from pure fantastic imagination. Chabon is really, really good. This is a murder mystery. 'Nuff said.

As seems to be true for many reviewers, I thought Kavalier and Clay was a pretty entertaining, well-written book. However, I hated Mysteries of Pittsburgh. Unfortunately, despite a reasonably interesting plot, this book bears a stronger resemblance to the latter than the former.

My problem with Chabon is that he tends to pick up one literary device and really bludgeon it to death in his books. (And I'm not talking about really deep literary devices.) For example, in the case of Mysteries of Pittsburgh, this involved his tendency to use runs of three adjectives when describing something (e.g. "She was slender and blond, with a green-eyed, small-nosed, nondescript kind of face.") Now, it's ok to do this every once in a while, but when you do it so much that the reader starts noticing, it's an obnoxious, annoying, pretentious way to write. I couldn't read more than two or three pages without thinking, "There's another freaking triplet of adjectives! Stop doing that!"

In the case of the Yiddish Policeman's Union, the problem is excessive use of similes, especially ornate (and sometimes really bizarre) similes. Of course, a book would be pretty bland without any sort of figurative writing. Again, however, when taken too far, it just becomes obnoxious, annoying, pretentious. I eventually took a pen and started marking the margin at each particularly egregious example. Needless to say, my copy was pretty marked-up by the end.

A possible game for your book club: Find the stupidest simile in this book. Warning: There are tons to choose from. Some of my favorite examples (which aren't all technically similes, but you know what I mean):

"Berko notes also that Landsman has been crying; one eyebrow shoots up, hangs suspended, drifts down like a tablecloth settling onto a table."

"Landsman affects to take an interest in the way that fire turns cured tobacco to flakes of ash."

"Night is an orange smear over Sitka, a compound of fog and the light of sodium-vapor streetlamps. It has the translucence of onions cooked in chicken fat." (????)

"The kid is sound asleep. He smells like a piece of cut apple that's starting to turn. He digs his toes into the small of Landsman's back with care and without mercy. He grinds his teeth. The sound of it is like dull shears on a sheet of tin." (Two great ones in four sentences, can he beat it?)

"He rides down the elevator feeling as if he has stepped out from under the onrushing shadow of a plummeting piano, some kind of jazzy clangor in his ear. The knot of his gold-and-green rep necktie presses its thumb against his larynx like a scruple pressing against a guilty conscience, a reminder that he is alive. His hat is as glossy as a seal." (Yes he can! With some doozies!)

And my personal fave:

"Shprintzl Rudashevsky's wide face takes on a philosophical, even mystic, blankness. She looks like she's wetting her pants and enjoying the warmth."

If you think that this style of writing is "stunningly evocative" or "breathtaking" (to quote some of the nonsense reviews on the jacket of the book), then this book is for you. But if you're like me and a little of this type of writing goes a long way, then don't bother.

I generally did like the plot of the book (and didn't find the "Yiddish" dialogue difficult to follow or distracting - you can figure most of it out from context.) But I'm sorry, I just can't enjoy a book that drives me crazy with its excessive, obnoxious, often unnecessary use of a single literary device. I got the feeling that Chabon is very pleased with his ability to write - or should it be, to get away with writing? - in this way. But it just drove me crazy. (A related point is that I found much of dialogue to be excessively melodramatic, and descriptions of people and places were too portentous and overblown.)

The audio version of this wonderful novel is so well-read by Peter Riegert that you must consider listening to this one, rather than reading it. As others have indicated in their reviews or as you might have heard on NPR this is a splendid vision of a world that never existed in reality but is populated with so many vividly drawn characters that your recollection of 20th century history is likely to be permanently altered. Rieger's one man performance of the whole spectrum of characters is incredible.

I picked up this book almost at random, drawn by the unique cover art. I almost put it back down, until I saw that Michael Chabon had won the Pulitzer prize for fiction in a recent year. I figured anything by a Pulitzer winner was worth the time to read.

I was not disappointed. I was sucked into the world of Sitka, Alaska so thoroughly I had to remind myself frequently this was a piece of "alternate history." I have rarely seen such vivid characters brought to life, living their lives against such vibrant backgrounds of blended fantasy and reality.

This book reminded me why I write fiction, and Michael Chabon has given me a new standard to aspire to. If you have the chance to read "The Yiddish Policeman's Union," do so without hesitation!

I throughly enjoyed the book. It started out a bit slow, but I got sucked in pretty quickly. I would describe it as an often dark, sometimes funny, thoroughly entertaining mystery novel. And I liked the chess angle, too.

I'm a bit confused by all the complaints about the Yiddish-isms. I'm not Jewish. I don't speak a word of Yiddish. And, frankly, I'm not all that familiar with the Jewish culture. But I had no problem understanding the Yiddish-isms in their context.

Hard-boiled homicide detective Landsman, has to deal with a murder in his flophouse apartment building. Landsman, a alcoholic mess after a personal tragedy, is one of those great detective inventions; the tough smart cop, who is just a bit overwhelmed by the circumstances he finds himself in, but keeps fighting for the truth regardless of his personal well-being. Assisted by a giant Native Alaskan Jew, Berko, who is as much brother as he is partner, and his ex-wife, now boss, Landsman delves into a case that deal with organized crime, Orthodox beliefs, and a murder victim who is a messianic figure in the community and maybe more than that. All this as the time limit for the Jewish settlement in Alaska, where in this alternate Earth the Jews have now settled instead of Israel, is reaching an end, threatening to leave the Jewish people homeless again. I wish I could say Chabon pulls it off without a hitch. There is so much right here, the dialogue, the descriptions and even the fantastic setting all add up to a novel well worth your time, but it gets bogged down in needless complexity, a labyrinth of twists and turns that end up confusing the narrative and creates a novel that reaches too far for its humble origins. Maybe Chabon was using Hammet's DAIN CURSE as a model, another book where the exciting journey reaches a conclusion that leaves the reader wondering exactly what the point was. Despite this I liked the book, but finished thinking it should have stayed true to its pulp roots instead of reaching for an ambitious finish that is not quite achieved satisfactorily.

Chabon's prose is the star in this book. I just love the way he turns a sentence. That said, the plot was a bit flaky. It just didn't seem to stand up to Mr. Chabon's beautiful writing-kind of like putting a mink coat on a hog.......

"The Yiddish Policeman's Union" raises the literary bar, vaulting into the top tier of fiction and establishing a new standard for the detective/murder/noir genre. Literary, fun, tragicomic, profound and light all at the same time; a masterful and daring act of luminosity. Chabon shines.

It's taken a long time for Michael Chabon to write a real follow-up to his award-winning novel, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay. During this seven year or so period, Chabon wasn't exactly idle: among other writing, he did produce an interesting novella (The Final Solution) and a forgettable young adults novel, Summerland. None of this, however, really like another Kavalier & Clay type of book. The Yiddish Policemen's Union is that long-awaited novel.

Although it doesn't really fit into one single genre, The Yiddish Policemen's Union is a mix of classic hardboiled mystery and science fiction (although technically, I suppose it fits better into that ambiguous genre of speculative fiction). Chabon has constructed an alternate reality where the state of Israel was never established; instead, Jews were given an area in Alaska to act as a temporary homeland and refuge from the horrors of WWII Europe. The emphasis here should be on "temporary"; sixty years after its establishment, the Federal District of Sitka is about to revert to the control of Alaska. Some Jews will be allowed to stay, but many will be kicked out.

With Reversion just a couple months away, homicide detective Meyer Landsman gets involved in a murder that most people don't want solved. Landsman is a typical hardboiled detective in the mold of Philip Marlowe or Lew Archer: he drinks a lot, has little in the way of money or friends and is constant defiance of authority. To make matters worse, his boss is also his ex-wife, Bina, who wants the Reversion to go smoothly (hopefully leading to both permanent residency and a job).

The murder victim is a heroin addict staying at the residence hotel that Landsman is living in. Since Bina doesn't want open cases, she has this one put in the cold case file, but Landsman feels obligated to solve a killing that took place more-or-less in his home. The victim, however, is not a mere junkie; instead he turns out to have been a potential Messiah, a role the victim did not exactly enjoy. There are, though, many who did want this Messiah, including the victim's father, a powerful rabbi.

To solve the crime will require all the standard things a hard-boiled detective needs to go through: gunfights, blows to the head, threatened job loss, powerful enemies, and so on. What's actually going on turns out to be more complicated than a simple killing. What makes this stand out from a routine mystery is, of course, the exotic setting, which is where Chabon really shines: he has created an alternate world which is well-constructed and essential to the story.

While really good, this is not a perfect novel; it's biggest flaw is that starts somewhat slow, but when it does pick up, it moves right along. Overall, this book is worth the wait: it's not Kavalier & Clay, but it's close enough.

Michael Chabon has done it again. What a terrific story. Enjoyed it from the minute I started it.

I've read all of Chabon's earlier novels and am continually amazed by the depth of it all... characterization and language are impressive devices in his hands but even more enthralling are the plots. Originality in contemporary literature is a vanishing objective that Chabon gifts to us with each novel.

In this instance, Chabon also manages to use one of my personal favorite plot-lines as a wireframe for a hard-boiled detective story. The conflict over a small strip of land in Jerusalem made an excellent background for Tom Robbins' "Skinny Legs and All" and it does so again in Chabon's novel as geography that holds power for religions. Geography closer to home is also important in The Yiddish Policemen's Union as the forty-ninth state almost becomes a character.

Unlike Kavalier & Clay, The Yiddish Policemen's Union plods at times, inhabiting the slow-paced world of middle-aging adults but the magical language Chabon has become famous for mastering is ever present in American and old-country slang amongst God's chosen tribe.

The nicest thing i can say about this one is that Chabom has done better!

This is not a review in the strict sense, but my badly addled mind reacting to a horrible book. I cannot dignify this to be either a novel nor comedy, well written or not.

I accept the basic premise (Israel overrun in 1948 - "alternate history") - which becomes the story line. However, the book is a combination of some the worst stereotypes (and stereotypes of stereotypes) and ugliness pretending to be comedy I've seen in years. I was sick to my stomach. I cannot believe that Chabon is such a self hater... And I will stop there......

I don't know why I always thought Chabon was sort of a "lightweight" novelist, but I decided to try "Yiddish Policeman`s Union" after reading a good review in "The Economist". I was not disappointed. "Yiddish Policemen`s Union" is a powerful novel. The factors that make it such are: incredibly original and interesting characters, particularly Landsman (the protgonist) and Berko (his partner), but also all the many minor ones that populate the novel; an extraordinarily interesting and original setting in a fictionalized future that yets reads perfectly realistic; fabulous writing, metaphors etc, again, superbly original and surprising; and a really cool plot.

If there is a weakness to the novel it does regard plot: I found the first two thirds of the novel exceptional, but the last third in which more "grandiose" events take place with global geo-political implications was a bit tough to swallow. But the first two thirds which revolve around Landsman and his search for the murderer across a number of rivetting situations was enough to hold my interest through the book and make me a Chabon fan

For readers interested in roughly similar novels with settings in Jewish communities I would highly recommmend Nathan Englunders "The Ministry of Special Cases" (a bit "heavier" and more literary but even more powerful) and Jonathan Safran Froer's "Everything is Illuminated" (which starts out a bit slower but ends with a very emotionally moving denouement)

This book is simply excellent, I couldn't put it down until read through. Chabon's imagination is hard to beat. Yiddish Policemen is just as good as The Amazing Adventures and Wonder Boys. The characters, plot and setting is great, and now we can only hope for the Coen brothers to make a movie out of it as rumoured. Only they could pull it off.

I enjoyed this book very much. The characters were unusual, quirky, and well-developed. I loved the images provoked by the speculation that history could have turned out quite differently.

Well, probably everyone reading this knows what the book is about. Also, almost everyone seems to love this book. I don't. In fact I found this book to be almost unreadable, and also failure. The book is supposed to happen in alternative world in Alaska, where jewish people were settled when Israel failed. The Sitka city is supposed to have more than million people. Those things can't been seen in the novel. The city feels like a smallish east European town. The setting in Alaska, the nearness of ocean have practically no effect to the story. The alternative world concept seem very poorly thought out - there are tantalizing glimpses to differences, but that is all there are. There not followed up, they have no significant relation to the plot.

The language is hard to follow, it has an abundance of Yiddish words. The use of those words is horrible selfserving with no real need or meaning. Those words are not only used for characters speech or for such concepts which have no exact meaning in English language, they are also used with no reason at all. For example "elevator" may be sometimes spelled "elevatoro", it can be understood, but why?

The main part of the book and plot also demand a great degree of familiarity with jewish culture and customs. I personally don't have that, and I not much have interest to get one. If you have those qualities, this book might be just and just readable, if you don't those interests, I would recommend: Forget it!

Anyone who loves reading...for that matter, anyone who fancy's themselves as possible writers can take a breather and see true genius at work with Michael Chabon. I doubted that he could ever top Kavalier and Clay, but with this phenomenal story that transports the reader into a wholly unknown world, but then surprises at every turn, Chabon has proven he is a writer worth reading. No one should miss his novels. At least anyone who loves to read.

This is an unexpectedly wonderful novel. I didn't know the book
existed, but the CD is a great bonus. Who knew that a novel about
Jews -- good and bad -- in of all places Alaska could be so funny
and written so explosively, and in the vernacular. Chabon has a
clever way with words, especially when he describes the personal
characteristics of the people in the book. Yoy don't have to be
Jewish to thoroughly enjoy this novel -- and as I write this, I'
still have two disks to go!!

One cannot but pay reverence to the word mastery of Chabon and the brilliant creative mind that spawned the fictional Yiddish world in which the tale unfolds. A caveat for those who are not familiar with the vernacular: I strongly recommend getting your hands on a Yiddish dictionary, possibly online would do, or a very patient Jewish friend. The use of Yiddish terminology exceeds the literal and ventures into an entirely new vocabulary both amusing and piquant. Having said that, this book, suffers some serious flaws partly due to the genre (pulp fiction noir) where character development is impeded in favor of fast metaphorical narration. Though the latter is handled with virtuosity and intelligence the characters don't get much further in depth than plywood. Likewise the plot, though set in an elaborate wondrous tapestry, is about as likely as - to use Chabonese - my boba serving up Christmas pudding and pickled beef topped with sour cream on Yom Kippur. Insofar as this book may or may not be a discourse on Jewish identity, sadly and probably without intent, we encounter stereotypes of Jews as old as anti Semitism itself (international connections, wealth and ill doing, plotting some devious misdeeds miles away). Similarly, the Israel-oriented Jews in Chabon's work are portrayed as zealous extremist cardboard clones servicing nothing in the polemic regarding the discussion of the survival of the Jewish people which, for better of for worse hangs in the background of this work.
The mystery is finally strung together by, yawn, conspiracy theory.
Though it is liberating and sometimes called for, to abandon all political correctness in favor of art it is somewhat offensive to encounter the notion that those that are victims of terror and brutality are actually the perpetrators. In Chabonese - its like telling us that Polar baby seals are behind the clubbing of gentle fisherman of the north.

I like alternate history, Alaska, and a decent mystery novel.

This was awful. The first Chabon book I read was, of course, "Kavalier and Clay." It was great, so I read "Mysteries of Pittsburgh," which was disappointing. This was just awful. I didn't understand what was going on most of the time, I couldn't figure out what the Yiddish meant, the writing was choppy, and the plot didn't seem to be able to make up its mind about which way it wanted to go.

I only finished it because I had nothing else to do when I was at work. If I had thought to bring some logic problems with me, I would have given up on this mess about 100 pages in.

This is the third Chabon book that I have read (after THE FINAL SOLUTION and THE MYSTERIES OF PITTSBURGH) and it is unquestionably the best -- imaginative, audacious, thought-provoking, and humane. As I gather he did with KAVALIER & CLAY, Chabon takes a genre of popular fiction, in this case the police story, and transforms it into a vehicle capable of carrying significant insights into the human condition, and particularly the complex crosscurrents of Jewish identity. For some reason this fascinates me, and I have read a good deal of post-Holocaust fiction, but I felt that I understood more about Jewish life in America, especially among the orthodox, from reading this book than from any other author since Chaim Potok.

Chabon creates an alternative historical reality on the basis of three plausible assumptions. The first is that, in the years before the War, America created a home for a limited number of Jewish refugees in Sitka, on the South-East coast of Alaska; (this plan was actually floated, but never brought to a vote). Second, that the new state of Israel was overrun by its enemies shortly after its founding, causing a massive exodus of people to be accommodated in this small area, giving rise to a large city built up over islands and a narrow strip of land. The third assumption is that these refugees were not accepted as American immigrants, but as temporary nationals of the new entity, leased for a period of sixty years. So while Jewish Sitka is a self-governing city-state, with Yiddish its official language, and with its own police force, this authority is precarious. For one thing, different sects have taken over different parts of the city, effectively maintaining their own law, even sometimes in opposition to the official law. For another, the sixty-year lease is about to expire, and the action of the book takes place in the last weeks before Reversion, when Jews who have not made other arrangements will be forced out again in yet another Exodus.

One such unprepared unfortunate is our protagonist, an alcoholic homicide detective named Meyer Landsman. One of the other residents in the fleabag hotel where he lives is found murdered, with a chess game set out on a board beside him. Even though his superiors tell him to drop the case, Landsman persists in his attempts to discover who the victim really was, and who killed him. This thread sews the plot together and leads to some surprising places. Ultimately, however, it is not the whodunnit element that is important; we discover the answer, but that is a minor detail in the almost apocalyptic drama of fear and destiny that is revealed in the shadow of the last days of the Jewish people in Sitka. But while specifically Jewish in context, I find the book also is full of insight into the fundamentalist mindset generally, and it is very much a reflection of forces in American politics of our own time.

Chabon is equally successful on the intimate level. We come to know a lot about Myer Landsman: the suicide of his chess grandmaster father, the death of his sister in a flying accident, his separation from his wife Bina after the abortion of their unborn child. This last relationship is further complicated when Bina turns up as Meyer's new boss, but the unraveling of the case also has the effect of bringing the past and present together, in ways that are ultimately deeply satisfying, and give the book human warmth as a ballast to its flights of brilliance. If you come to the novel as a Gentile (and perhaps even as a Jew), you will be plunged into a world that seems hermetic, claustrophic, extremely strange. When you finish it, you will understand where the strangeness comes from. More, you will be left with a small group of human beings whom you have come to know as intimately as if their were your own family or neighbors.

This is Michael Chabon at his best. The story is gripping, the characters wonderfully quirky. And the writing -- oh, the writing! There are so many sentences and even whole passages that are simply breath-taking. I kept thinking "I wish it was me who had written that sentence!" Chabon has an amazing gift with words. I have read most of his other books, but I think this is his best work so far. I absolutely loved it, and I know I will be rereading it many many times.

I am stuggling to read this book because it is not holding my attention. The author is not drawing me in what-so-ever. Some things are overly described and others are not explained well. It is hard to follow. I have had to skim sections in hope to get to a more engaging part of the book. I have yet to find the more engaging part of the book. I do not recommend this book.