I.B.Singer, Peretz, S.Aleichem, D.Bergelson, Mendele all have portrayed shtetl life, with a tragic, comical, historical, or religious perspective. L.Nattel in her debut as a novel writer has given us her lyrical, colorful interpretation of the shtetl life in a fictional village of Blaszka (Russian occupied Poland), at the end of the 19th century. At the core of the story there are four characters (the "vilda Hayas," or "wild creatures), all of them female. The strong, independent Misha, a midwife who challenges traditions but remains much respected and loved by the community; Hanna-Leah the childless butcher's wife; Faygela the dreamer who wishes to become a poet and becomes the mother of many, and Ziza-Sara who emigrates to New York and has an early death. Around this core there is a myriad of remarkable characters: Emma and her revolutionary ideas, the rabbi and his fear of fire, Hayim the water carrier, besides the ever-present angels and demons of Jewish folklore.

Nattel has divided her novel by a "mekhitzah" (the walll that divides the men's section from the women's section in a traditional synagogue) and contrary to tradition women's perspective has precedence over the counterpart genre (excuse me, the "mama" comes first and then the "papa"). The final and third section is dedicated to Misha, the strongest character, the keeper of secrets who has become pregnant but who will not reveal who the father is. This structure is responsible for the novel's much criticized flaw: overlapping and repetition.

The author integrates her vast knowledge of folklore, traditions, magic, and with an enjoyable sense of humor brings back a community life which is now part of history. Great historical events are not emphasized, there is no drama, it is a reading to be placidly enjoyed, the concern is with daily life, erotism and passions, friendships, understanding and misunderstandings amongst the characters, with some hints of magic realism which somehow seems out of place.

An excellent group of short stories, each told by a different member of a magical polish jewish shtetl in the late 1800's. The key is that the same year is retold by each townsperson, from their point of view. The stories intersect, and also diverge in very interesting ways. There's Hanna-Leah the butcher's wife, Misha the midwife who mysteriously (and without a husband) gets pregnant, Hershel the butcher, Alta-Fruma with her great-niece and nephew from America (their parents died in a new york city workhouse fire), Hayim the water-carrier (and artist), amoung others. It's a beautifully told snapshot of a town from long ago. While well done, near the end it gets a bit tiring, and I did skip one of the stories. But that didn't hurt my enjoyment at all, nor did it disallow me from understanding the final stories in the book.

The River Midnight is Lilian Nattel's well-researched and honest depiction of women's life in shtetl Europe. From the "zogerin", the women's prayer leader to Misha the midwife dispensing her various potions to induce a pregnancy or get rid of one, the mythical town of Blaszka comes alive through the voices of its women. Although at times the story is a little uneven, with tidbits inserted that seem to have no relation to the plot (one of the women has an affair with a gentleman in Warsaw that seems as though it's excerpted from another book altogether), Nattel draws out her story in a fascinating, almost midrashic way, layering interpretation upon interpretation until, gradually, the whole picture emerges.

Perhaps the greatest flaw in this book is Nattel's attempts to weave a magical theme into the book, for example in the characters of "the Traveller" and "the Director" (and with one of the main characters being able to turn herself into a tree frog). These insertions, too, are a little annoying, and overall, they are too subtle to make any meaningful point. Luckily, they manage not to detract from Nattel's lively and evocative shtetl tale, so different from some others we've seen and heard.

Let's just say that Blaszka isn't Anatevka, the mythical town seen in the musical "Fiddler on the Roof", with its clean (if slightly dusty) streets and its cheerful, sexless cast. Blaszka's women and men are lusty and three-dimensional; they menstruate, they ejaculate. And Blaszka itself is muddy and strewn with filth and ruins.

In her notes at the end of the book, Nattel writes that in her research, she tried to avoid historical records from after WW2 because of the rosy-coloured nostalgia for pre-war Jewish life, and there is certainly no sentimentality here. Yet, with all her honesty and truth to life, a certain beauty emerges in her depiction.

Out of the filth and mud and bickering of small-town Poland, Nattel weaves an enduring legacy to the next generations of Jews -- a tapestry-like vision of the world of our grandmothers. The River Midnight is a stunning first novel from an outstanding Canadian writer, but it is something more as well -- a window into a home to which we will never again return.

I should also add that this novel made for excellent (lively!) book-group discussion. My mother invited me along to hers, and there were many varied responses (from "I loved it" to "I hated it"), but nobody could remain neutral in the face of this strongly evocative work. It also spurred an interesting discussion of women's prayer in Jewish history, and comparison with other recent Jewish "women's novels".