By Judith Katz. $13.46; Bywater Books; 314 pages
Originally published in 1997, The Escape Artist reappears under a new publishing company with all its magic intact. A shul for whores, 1900s Buenos Aires, cross-dressing, magical tricks and a charming love story between two young Jewish women—that is the recipe concocted here and laid out in a story that provides suspense and a fascinating glimpse into a culture little known to most contemporary readers.
While the escape artist of the title is Hankus, this is Sofia's story, told in the first person. It begins in a Jewish ghetto of Warsaw in 1913, when Sofia is 16. A happy child, Sofia soon sees her world turned upside down when her father brings Tutsik Goldenberg into their home. A "slick weasel," Sofia characterizes him, and indeed he is. He is looking for a "good Jewish wife" and not only talks Sofia's father into agreement of a marriage between Tutsik and Sofia, but gets a dowry out of the father as well. With promises of a better life in Buenos Aires, Tutsik whisks Sofia off on a ship, where she quickly realizes marriage isn't in the offing at all. Her life spirals downward from there. Tutsik delivers her into the hands of his sister Perle, who runs a brothel in Buenos Aires. And thus begins a life of enslavement of the worst kind for Sofia, which is brightened only when an unlikely visitor with special skills appears.
This edition is complete with an essay by Dr. Emma Parker, a literature professor at the University of Leicester in England. She makes the case that magic "… functions as a metaphor for both the positive and negative effects of diaspora [in this case, Jews moving to Argentina from eastern Europe to escape the plundering Cossacks]." Parker also explores the implications of conjuring and escapism in relation to queer diaspora female subjects, such as Sofia and Hankus.
The Escape Artist was one of the first books I read in a lesbian book group I had just joined back in the day. It has been a pleasure to revisit this world these many years later.
Painting, as it does, a detailed picture of the customs and traditions of early 20th-century Judaism in eastern Europe and of life in the Jewish quarter of Buenos Aires, the novel provides a gripping tale and a satisfying read.
