Schlepping the Exile

As if being Jewish in 1950s Coalbanks, Canada, isn’t hard enough, Yoine Levkes’s father, nicknamed “the Greenhorn,” requires Yoine to wear payes (curly sidelocks often worn by ultra-orthodox men and boys). Yoine is in the midst of going through puberty when we meet him, and his knowledge of girls remains theoretical—until the secular and sophisticated Sabina moves to town. Soon he’s “ready to sit shivah for at least half my virginity.” Wex (Born to Kvetch) makes extensive use of Yiddish vocabulary and cadences, merging them with Yoine’s smart-aleck asides. The voice adds interest to an antic but otherwise conventional coming-of-age story, but Wex lays it on pretty thick. Here’s Yoine on The Jazz Singer: “Every Christmas and Dominion day, whether you liked it or not—and who couldn’t like it? It was good for the Jews; whether you’d seen it or not—and who hadn’t seen it?” It’s shown in the community center, next to the little-used ritual bath: “Monday and Friday, men; Tuesday and Thursday, women and dishes; corpses on demand.” By the book’s end, Yoine’s a high school senior, winner of the Latin prize, and a proud possessor of condoms, who, for all the rules he’s bent, still hasn’t eaten anything treif (not kosher). Partly old world, partly new, born to parents who have lost virtually everything, Yoine is an appealing creation, though readers may not love him as much as his creator does. (Feb.)