Blagica Jankuloska
Small Book, Massive Punch
I spent the last few days immersed in Gabrielle Sher’s debut, Odessa. I picked it up on a whim because debut work is often like that famous Forrest Gump quote: you never quite know what you’re going to get. As it turns out, life is like a box of chocolates, and Odessa is the dark, rich truffle you didn’t see coming.
Set in early 20th-century Tsarist Russia during the horrific anti-Jewish pogroms, the story begins with the violent death of a young girl named Yetta. In a desperate act of grief, her father uses ancient magic and forbidden texts to bring her back—but as is often the case with such magic, things do not go as planned. Instead of his daughter, he conjures a Golem.
This novel is a haunting blend of historical fiction and magical realism, leaning heavily into Gothic horror. Sher masterfully crafts an atmosphere of looming dread and vivid, historical unrest. While the supernatural elements are compelling, the heart of the book lies in its exploration of antisemitism, persecution, and the weight of ancestral grief.
Because the story is so deeply rooted in Jewish folklore and religious customs—from weekly observances to mystical rites—readers unfamiliar with these traditions may find themselves reaching for a search bar. However, that immersion is exactly what makes the book so powerful. It offered me a profound window into a faith and history different from my own, helping me better understand the generational pain and resilience within the Jewish community. For a book under 300 pages, it packs an incredible punch. I’ll definitely be recommending this one.
Small Book, Massive Punch
I spent the last few days immersed in Gabrielle Sher’s debut, Odessa. I picked it up on a whim because debut work is often like that famous Forrest Gump quote: you never quite know what you’re going to get. As it turns out, life is like a box of chocolates, and Odessa is the dark, rich truffle you didn’t see coming.
Set in early 20th-century Tsarist Russia during the horrific anti-Jewish pogroms, the story begins with the violent death of a young girl named Yetta. In a desperate act of grief, her father uses ancient magic and forbidden texts to bring her back—but as is often the case with such magic, things do not go as planned. Instead of his daughter, he conjures a Golem.
This novel is a haunting blend of historical fiction and magical realism, leaning heavily into Gothic horror. Sher masterfully crafts an atmosphere of looming dread and vivid, historical unrest. While the supernatural elements are compelling, the heart of the book lies in its exploration of antisemitism, persecution, and the weight of ancestral grief.
Because the story is so deeply rooted in Jewish folklore and religious customs—from weekly observances to mystical rites—readers unfamiliar with these traditions may find themselves reaching for a search bar. However, that immersion is exactly what makes the book so powerful. It offered me a profound window into a faith and history different from my own, helping me better understand the generational pain and resilience within the Jewish community. For a book under 300 pages, it packs an incredible punch. I’ll definitely be recommending this one.