Skip to main content

Gentlemen of the Road by Michael Chabon: A review

(Note: This summer I'm featuring some of my old book reviews that have not been posted here before. This is a book that I read in March 2009 and my review of it was published on Goodreads on March 4, 2009. Although I read it in winter, it would be a good - and quick - read for summer.)

Gentlemen of the RoadGentlemen of the Road by Michael Chabon
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

It is circa 950 C.E. in the Caucasus Mountains area, the Khazar Empire.  Zelikman, the Frankish scarecrow of a man, and Amram, the Abyssinian former soldier, both Jews and brothers under the skin, make their way in the area by serving as blades for hire, thieves, bamboozlers - whatever happens to come their way.  They are, in fact, Gentlemen of the Road or, as Chabon says he first titled the work, "Jews with Swords."

This is a short novel full of Chabon's trademark sardonic style of writing.  I had previously read The Yiddish Policemen's Union and thoroughly enjoyed it and I was anxious to try out his latest work.  I was not disappointed.

Zelikman and Amram are quirky and attractive characters, full of humor, much of it sarcastic.  Their tale hangs upon their half-unwilling drafting into the service of escorting and defending a prince of the Khazar Empire whose family - a royal family of the empire - had been killed and his father displaced as ruler by the prince's uncle.  The prince, who has many secrets, burns with the desire for revenge and Amram and Zelikman are drawn into his plots.

This is a swashbuckling adventure that compares favorably with many of the past's most famous and beloved buddy adventures.  The twist at the end is something that I might have seen coming, but it was delicious nonetheless.  It is a page-turner of a book, one that goes quickly and ends before the reader wants it to - a fun read.



View all my reviews

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters!  Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...