Your Sad Eyes and Unforgettable Mouth

(4.5 stars) A reunion with one of her childhood friends, Patrick, triggers a flood of memories in Maya compelling her to dig up her teenage diaries and embark on a "phantom-laden" journey into those crucial years of young love, rebellion and a rainbow of other emotions. What circumstances and events in their teens made the friendship of Rosie, Patrick and Maya possible and later triggered its breakup? Edeet Ravel takes us deep into the emotional difficulties faced by the three friends, bound in a deeper way than they are conscious of: they belong to the "second generation", children of Holocaust survivors. Completely at ease in the voice of Maya, the author explores the multifaceted lives of the young people in the face of their parents' struggle to rebuild their lives following the unspeakable traumas they had experienced "over there". Edeet Ravel is an award winning Israeli-Canadian author, known for her Tel Aviv trilogy and numerous books for young people who shuttles between Israel and Guelph, Ontario. Her novel is an engaging read about the trials and tribulations of teens struggling with romantic feelings, sexuality and establishing who they are. Maya's infatuation with her friend is beautifully described, witty and self-conscious in her discoveries. Montreal, the locale of the story and a centre for Jewish culture and memory, is lovingly evoked in its idiosyncracies. At the same time, there is a very deep, serious and at times haunting side to the novel. With "Your Sad Eyes..." Ravel tackles an aspect of post-war experience that is of great significance, not only to the survivors' families, but also for society as a whole. Her book encourages reflection and debate on the concrete history and the wider context as other, newer, brutal wars and conflicts create more "second generations" of victims and survivors. Through the lives of the three friends (and others) Ravel describes poignantly how the young people carry, throughout their own lives, many of the deep wounds inflicted on their parents and also how these, mostly unconsciously, inflict more wounds on them. The diverse ways of coping with these challenges and difficulties, torn between love and resentment, form part of Ravel's complex narrative as she contrasts Rosie's, Patrick's and Maya's families. Communication among family members is often hindered by the trauma of memory and blocked by the fundamental need to forget. The children are sensitive to the traumas of their parents, but their reactions may not always be the most helpful. They don't know how to ask... But how would they know? While Maya, as a teenager, is not able to see all these connections, the adult Maya who adds her reflections to the diaries of her youth definitively can. The author's style is gentle and light, passionate at times and straight forward at others. She pulls back from expanding too deeply on the horrors of the parents' past sufferings, instead usually only hinting at events and sorrows. Some

A thing of consummate beauty. And pain. And loss. Fragile, poignant...achingly resonant... There is so much here deserving of accolade, of praise, of clutched-to-chest reverence... ...and yet I think that the greatest aspect of my reaction to 'Your Sad Eyes...' was to what wasn't there. The first-person narrator was lovely. A strong voice, delectable commentary, insightful without being preachy. And Ms Ravel's talents, her abilities as an author aren't to be quibbled over. Of course, the various themes and references of the tale, they are above reproach. But there's something threadbare about what's there. I kept thinking that it would have been so much more...if there'd been so much more. Although this was a delicate, personal tale, something usually well-served by a spare telling, a brief arc...in the end, I couldn't help but believe that in this case, this wasn't the right tack. I enjoyed my time with Maya, Rosie and the rest, but I believe I would have cherished the novel had it been served up not as the restrained respite it was, but as the feast it deserved to be. (Personal rating: 8/10)