By Rabbi Rachel Esserman

Some books are deceptively simple. Take, for example, Sayon Liebrecht’s “The Bridesman” (Europa Editions). This evocative and poignant short novel – 151 pages – is narrated by Micha, an Israeli expatriate who is called back to visit Israel by his Aunt Adella after he’s lived in the United States for 24 years. Her purchase of a plane ticket and the reservation at a fancy Tel Aviv hotel makes him wonder what she wants in return. Micha is a ghostwriter and ponders whether she wants him to write the story of her life. This makes him think back to his aunt’s initial introduction to his formerly very close-knit family.

When Micha was a child, his mother, her four brothers and three sisters usually spent Saturday evenings at their widowed father’s house. One brother, Moshe, who lived with his father, was a bachelor and his siblings decided it was time for him to wed. Unfortunately, Moshe seems to have an unnamed disability and is not the best marriage prospect. The family also want a bride who shares their Iranian background. Their first prospect is Adella, an orphan, who turns out to be more controversial and demanding than they wish. But after other attempts at matchmaking fail, they agree to let Moshe marry Adella. The only person in the family who seems to like her – besides Moshe – is Micha, who is asked to take part in the wedding. 

Micha is surprised when he meets the contemporary Adella, but to say why would spoil parts of the plot. What can be said is that her life and relationship to his family have changed greatly, something that causes him to rethink and reevaluate the past. That leads him – and readers – to a new understanding of what really occurred before Micha left Israel as a teenager.

Liebrecht writes beautiful prose. For example, her descriptions clearly portray Micha’s thoughts during his plane trip to Israel: “Images from the past flicker beneath my closed eyelids, presenting me with a riddle which teasingly vanishes before I can contemplate it. A flight attendant leans over me, offering champagne, and I sip the drink, causing pictures to whir past more quickly. My grandfather rests his open palms on the top of my head; a row of model airplanes are lined up on the shelf above my cousin’s bed; the nightlight glows in...[the] bedroom; a platter in a kitchen is stacked with pinwheel cookies; [a friend] and his musician friends disappear from my life; the toiletries in my mother’s bathroom are lined up according to height; I feel the electrifying texture of Muga silk.” The author does something similar when describing family relationships, while also withholding details that leave readers guessing.

“The Bridesman” is a quiet novel, which is not a complaint since its purpose is to evoke the life of a family and how it changed with the addition of one person. Watching Micha review his life and come to a startling realization, while also learning how one woman took charge of her own life, makes this work well worth reading.