The Ministry of Special Cases

For many of us the idea of living in a country that is so corrupt that the government could easily snatch your child without any repercussions is unfathomable. Unfortunately, for those living in Argentina during the years of the Dirty War this was an everyday fear, which is the subject of Nathan Englander's The Ministry of Special Cases. What made this book fantastic: - Englander writes beautifully; he captures fear, hope, anger and heartbreak in each and every character - This is not a political book; the politics at the forefront of the Dirty War serve to bring years of family, cultural and identity issues to the surface, forcing the Poznan's to deal with the strengths and weaknesses of the bonds that hold their family together - On the other hand, when politics is mentioned it is done in such a way as to make you curious to learn more (I found myself doing extra research to gain a better understanding of what was happening in Buenos Aires during this time) - The plot and characters are realistic; it's not a fairy tale If you're being nit-picky you may have issues with: - The fact that everything isn't neatly tied up with a pretty red bow at the end; Englander is being brutally honest about this time period - You may be slightly confused about the role of the Jewish community in Argentina (again, doing a quick internet search will help) - Feeling frustrated for information or progress in regards to the plot. This frustration is what you're supposed to be feeling, though. Take your frustration, multiply it by a thousand and you'll only begin understanding what Kaddish and Lillian are feeling about not easily finding their missing son. This is a really wonderful novel that will make you appreciate so many things about your life and your family.

This book is profound in both its tragedy and humor. This book is one that will change the history of the novel. The way this book deals with mankind on the level of family, individual and part of the state is mesmerizing. Kaddish Pozen, his wife Lillian and there son Pato will be glued into your memory. This book is about mans struggle to overcome when one has already lost , what is most dear. This book is about when one should give up but can't. This book travails the life of a father and mother who lose their son in a terrible buracracy and never know if they will find him. This is the novel of the nobilty of a man and a woman who do not do every thing right but do most things even their mistakes for the most nobel of reason. This book show the potential evil of governments and buracrats.

Set in the Argentina of 1976 - a dark and violent time of upheaval - "The Ministry of Special Cases" is about a family torn apart by a power-corrupted government. It centers primarily on the actions of Kaddish and Lillian Poznan after their teenaged son, Pato, is `disappeared' by mysterious officials one night, perhaps never to be seen again. Kaddish and Lillian are locked in a futile race against time, knowing that every day their son is missing the likelihood that he has not survived increases. But how can they penetrate the defenses of the government and the police to get information regarding a son whose existence is now denied? At best, Kaddish and Lillian are told that their son must have run away from them, and are advised to give up their search before making `needless' trouble. But the Poznans know the truth about Pato's disappearance - Kaddish was home when his son was escorted from their apartment by mysterious men, who also removed three of Pato's books that they had deemed inappropriate. The search for their son leads Lillian to Argentina's Ministry of Special cases, where hundreds of people line up and fight for information about missing loved ones, and are frustrated by bureaucratic dead-ends. Worse than the government's unswerving apathy toward Kaddish and Lillian is the fearfully uncaring attitude that they find from general citizens they turn to for assistance. Everyone is too wrapped up in their own problems to care about the Poznan's plight - and much too afraid of losing their own family if they anger the government. Until their own son was taken from them Kaddish and Lillian themselves had been blind to the severity of the problem - Lillian is genuinely startled to find so many people waiting at the Ministry of Special Cases, and dismayed to hear from a couple that is finally giving up hope after two long years of no news. The strength of Englander's story is that the Poznans are a believable family unit. They are not the utopian family of amateur fiction, but a realistic family burdened by animosity and failure and bitter disappointment. Kaddish is marked by his low birth - an `hijo de puta' who will never earn respect or dignity, and the spectacular failures of his numerous get-rich-quick schemes to overcome his status have put a great deal of strain on his marriage to Lillian, who had believed in his abilities as a young (naïve?) young woman. And Pato is your typical disgruntled teenager; he hates his parents, acts out, runs away to his friends' home, smokes pot, and refuses to listen to their sage advice that could have kept him safe. And yet the reader feels the strength of their familial bond thanks to Englander's prodigious talents as a writer. Despite their fighting, it feels devastating when the Poznans are torn apart. But is "The Ministry of Special Cases" for everyone? No. Englander is a gifted writer, but his eccentricities will turn some readers off as unnecessary and annoying. As a fan

Seldom has a novel commanded so many of my emotions. My heart felt like a piano on whose strings a master musician was playing both polkas and dirges. But most of all, Mr. Englander kept surprising me. I usually read mysteries to enjoy fictional surprises, but The Ministry of Special Cases provided many more surprises than any mystery I've read in recent years. When I began reading the book, I had to stop and start over. I couldn't believe what I was reading. It's almost as though Hamlet started with the grave digger's scene. How can I summarize this book? I'm not sure I can do so accurately, but I'll hit some of the right notes of I call this book Don Quixote at The Trial. In the process, Mr. Englander unerringly portrays a society that's failing because each person only wants to look out for himself or herself. You will find yourself in Argentina during the beginning of the "dirty war" when many young people disappeared. What would it like to be a parent of such a young person? That's what you will graphically experience by reading The Ministry of Special Cases. Kaddish Poznan was conceived through an accident between his prostitute mother and a customer. The rabbi granted Kaddish such an unusual name in hopes it would protect him. As the book evolves, you'll see that the name has indeed shaped his character as well as his actions. Many of the "respectable" Jews in Argentina at the time had forbearers who also engaged in illicit and illegal activities, while sporting colorful names such as Hezzi Two-Blades. Kaddish has been looking for the big score all of his life, but hasn't found it. As the book opens, Kaddish is busy defacing a grave in the older part of the Jewish cemetery so that a connection to a dubious forbearer can be disguised. That's how Kaddish earns his cigarette money. His university student son, Pato, is a reluctant participant. Father and son are in continual conflict. Kaddish's wife, Lillian, supports the family by working hard for little pay in an insurance broker's office. Concerned about safety, she is soon out buying the strongest door she can locate. I won't go into more of the story from there lest I give away important details, but you'll find the plot to be amazingly well constructed to open up unexpected doors to empathy and understanding as you identify with one or both of the parents and wonder what you would do to keep your youngster safe. How can I summarize what I feel about the book? It's a masterpiece.

I picked up Ministry of Special Cases at 10 p.m., figuring I would plow through 20 pages before falling asleep. Captivated by its peculiar melancholy and its ability to maintain a precise balance between optimism and resignation, I didn't stop turning pages until I got to the last one. If you choose books for their clever and detailed plots, Ministry will disappoint you. But if you revel in complex characters and writing that transports you to a particular time and place, then Ministry will suck you in and keep you mesmerized. The book works on many levels. For starters, it evokes the horrors of Argentina in the post-Peron period. But it goes far beyond historical fiction, interweaving themes of love--among family members, co-workers, and even strangers-- with topics ranging from class differences to Jewish alienation to loss and futility. At its core, it's a novel about the absurdity of existence. Englander manages to squeeze an epic into a few hundred pages, with a style that is unembellished yet poignant. My only quibble with the book is that Pato, the family son, functions mostly as a literary device, exemplified by the opening graveyard scene in which he is serving as a counterbalancing weight for Kaddish's gravestone defacement. That image recurs throughout the book, as Pato mirrors and reacts to his parents but does not emerge as a fully realized character himself. We feel his parents' anguish when he is disappeared, but we don't miss him as a person. But such flaws are minor, and do nothing to diminish the lyricism and the humor, which manages to stay on the sober side of slapstick. Any author who can spin phrases like "the seam where the seedy underground was sewn to the seat of power" and "if everyone believes the same lie, isn't it, maybe, the truth?" is worth your time. Ministry of Special Cases will crawl into your head and haunt your dreams--if you can sleep after you finish it.