In Review: The Golem and the Jinni

This week, as I was searching for something to review, I stumbled upon Blackbird: an online journal of literature and arts. I will admit that I tend to choose journals with names that enchant me. I suppose I am not alone in that. Anyway, I perused the spring 2015 issue, and after reading several pieces, one spoke to me as being the one that I had to review.

I'm not sure I have ever seen an excerpt of a novel in a literary magazine. I'm learning something new about this world every day. This intrigued me. Though the other pieces that I read in Blackbird were very talented, something about, "from The Golem and the Jinni" by Helen Wecker drew me in.

The first scene of the except immediately creates a sense of mystery as we, the readers, see Rotfeld sailing aboard a ship with an envelope marked, Commands for the Gollum in his pocket. The Gollum, it turns out, is a mystical creature who exists to serve her master.

“Slowly the Golem came to life.

First to wake were her senses. She felt the roughness of wood under her fingertips, the cold, damp air on her skin. She sensed the movement of the boat. She smelled mildew, and the tang of seawater.

She woke a little more, and knew she had a body. The fingertips that felt the wood were her own. The skin that the air chilled was her skin. She moved a finger, to see if she could.

She heard a man nearby, breathing. She knew his name and who he was. He was her master, her entire purpose; she was his golem, bound to his will. And right now he wanted her to open her eyes.”

Cut to a scene in which Arbeely, a tinsmith, is trying to determine the age of an ancient looking flask and before he knows it, with a poof, a naked man is lying on his shop floor, violently demanding to know where the wizard is.This, Arbeely thought, is very, very impossible.

“Tell me where the wizard is,” the man said, “so I can kill him.”

Arbeely gaped at him.

“He trapped me in human form! Tell me where he is!”

The tinsmith’s mind began to race. He looked down at the soldering iron, and remembered that strange foreboding he’d felt before he touched it to the flask. He recalled his grandmother’s stories of flasks and oil lamps, all with creatures trapped inside.

No. It was ludicrous. Such things were only stories. But then, the only alternative was to conclude that he’d gone mad.

“Sir,” he whispered, “are you a jinni?”

Arbeely explains to the Jini where he is.

"It's real," the man said. "This is all real."

"Yes," Arbeely said. "I'm afraid it is."

So, there you have it folks. If you adore fantasy like I do, check out this novel. I know I plan to. I'm hooked; I have no choice, now.

~ Peace and Love, Tracey

© Tracey Love, 2015. All rights reserved.