The Yiddish Policemen’s Union – Michael Chabon

I once saw an interview with Lars von Trier about his movie Dogville in which he suggested that once you demand of an audience one major leap of faith (in that instance the unusual sets) then everything else needs to be as realistic and accessible as possible or you will lose their interest.

I thought of this when I was reading this novel because it sets a number of challenges to the reader, the first of which is the near-impenetrable plot. This is okay, as the novel is in part a pastiche of the Dashiell Hammett school of noir thriller so impenetrability is par for the course.

Next up is the alternative history setting in which the Jewish state is created in 1948 not in Palestine but in a grimly realised Alaska, leading one character to describe the residents as “The Frozen Chosen”.

The final barrier, which may not be so for everybody but was for a poor old English gentile like myself, is the prevalent use of Yiddish slang, much of which appears to have been made up by Chabon. For example, policemen are referred to throughout by the word “shammes”. A quick Google suggests that this is Yiddish for the sexton of a synagogue, which makes sense in slang logic, and it may also be a joke on the American use of “shamus” as slang for a private eye. This is witty and erudite, but towards the start of the novel I was feeling a bit overwhelmed with all of the information I was being asked to process.

Fortunately I stuck with it, trusting in Chabon to justify the effort he was asking me to make (The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay is one of my favourite recent novels). Of course it was worthwhile, very worthwhile.

Chabon is great with characters and, with the possible exception of ourpoliceman hero’s partner, all of the characters here are convincing and compellingly interesting. Motivations are clear by the end, and the character-driven plot clicks together nicely.

There is also some wonderful writing, mainly in the wisecracking noir idiom, for example when it introduces the central character as being “like there’s a film score playing behind him, heavy on the castanets” Occasionally, the tone changes and becomes altogether more moving.

Without giving away too much plot, there is a daring and intriguing political element involving terrorism and Islam, but not in the way you might expect. I wish I could say more about this, but I suggest that you read the book for yourself.