Posted on December 27, 2007 by Steve Pollak
Let’s face it: we Jews were never really the sword-carrying type. And that’s a good thing because you know what they say about those who live by the sword.
But, it’s amusing to read about Jews with swords in Michael Chabon’s latest novel, “Gentlemen of the Road.”
Originally published earlier this year in serial installments in the New York Times Magazine, the book follows the exploits of a pair of 10th century Jews — Amram and Zelikman — who pursue adventure throughout the Caucasus Mountains. They fight with swords and battle-axes, swindle tavern dwellers, perform daring acts of thievery and ultimately help raise a rebel army to overthrow the man who usurped the throne of the Khazar Empire from its rightful owner.
That’s a lot to get through in 196 pages but with Chabon’s fine storytelling abilities, our heroes make it from beginning to end without leaving the reader feeling rushed.
Our adventurers set off on their course of derring-do after staging a fight at a tavern where Zelikman feigns killing Amram. Unbeknownst to most of the people in attendance, the two Jews actually have a deal with the tavern owner to meet up later and split the money wagered on the bout by the spectators.
After the fight — but before the other patrons at the tavern discover the truth — a Persian mahout walks in on Amram and Zelikman talking in the disused stables where the body of Amram was supposed to be lying dead on the ground.
Let me stop here and say that if you don’t know what a mahout is, don’t feel bad. I’ll admit I didn’t know what it was before reading this book. It turns out a mahout is an elephant driver. As with some of Chabon's earlier works, there are lots of SAT words in this novel. Right after mahout, you’ll reach for the dictionary to look up stripling, mezair and caprioles. Don’t be ashamed. It’s the sign of a good reader to keep a dictionary nearby. And no, you shouldn’t blame Chabon for using such words. Blame your high school English teacher for leaving you feeling inadequate.
Back to what I was talking about. The mahout. Well, instead of getting angry, he offers our adventurers a deal to make even more money. He is escorting a boy prince on a dangerous journey to Azerbaijan and he wants Amram and Zelikman to come along.
The boy’s father had been the ruler of the Khazar Empire. But, the boy’s uncle —who also happened to be an army general — attacked during a weak moment and his soldiers took control. From then on, the uncle has been in pursuit of anyone who may harbor feelings of insurrection — including the boy prince.
Thus, soldiers loyal to the uncle are after the boy. The Persian explains that he must get the boy to Azerbaijan and the safety of his mother’s family. He goes on to say that Zelikman and Amram appear to be well-trained for such a journey:
“Watching your display tonight,” the mahout tells Amram and Zelikman, “I was able to discern not only the sham of it but the murderous art that fools the spectator into believing. I have 200 miles to ride and a manhunt to elude before I can fairly say I have discharged my duty, and I’d like very much to have you two along to help me do that.”
He quotes a substantial sum for the job (“five times the salary of a dekarch in the army of Byzantium”) and Zelikman and Amram decide to discuss the matter in private. The Persian and the boy step outside the stables and wait. As Zelikman and Amram argue inside, someone shoots an arrow through the mahout’s throat.
As Zelikman and Amram come out to investigate the mysterious killing, a man from the tavern spots them and yells for his companions. Now, a real fight begins and Zelikman and Amram must use the skills they displayed earlier to escape the hairy situation. Zelikman breaks apart the crowd of angry travelers by sending the horses stampeding out of the stables. It’s enough of a breach to allow our adventuring duo and their newfound charge to flee into the cover of the nearby woods.
From there, the real journey begins. Amram and Zelikman start out on the 200-mile trek to Azerbaijan but, as you would expect from any good adventure story, they get sidetracked.
It’s fun to watch them dip in and out of danger but I’d caution readers to go slow. Chabon, who won the Pulitzer Prize for his 2000 novel, “The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay
,” fills his pages with lots of details that can be hard to keep track of but the overall effect is a wonderous tapestry of sights, sounds, smells, tastes and feelings.
I enjoyed reading this book because of its sense of adventure. It reminded me of the guilty pleasure I felt while reading J.R.R. Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings
” trilogy. I can be a snob when it comes to reading but I enjoy taking a break from the ‘serious’ literature every once in a while.
Chabon says something along those same lines in the afterward to the book. Until recently, he had a reputation as a serious, literary writer. He tells readers that in this novel and in some of his other recent endeavors, including a critically-acclaimed book published earlier this year, “The Yiddish Policemen's Union
,” he's taken a break from his typical literary fare:
"I know it still seems incongruous, first of all, for me or a writer of my literary training, generation and pretensions to be writing stories featuring anybody with swords. As recently as 10 years ago, I had published two novels, and perhaps as many as 20 short stories, and not one of them featured weaponry more antique than a (lone) Glock 9mm. None was set any earlier than about 1972 or in any locale more far-flung or exotic than a radio studio in Paris, France."
He goes on to say: "I'm not turning my back on the stuff I wrote there, late in the 20th century, and I hope that readers won't either. It's just that in Gentlemen of the Road
, as in some of its recent predecessors, you catch me in the act of trying, as a writer, to do what many of the characters in my earlier stories — Art Bechstein, Grady Tripp, Ira Wiseman — were trying, longing, ready to do: I have gone off in search of a little adventure."
It’s fine to go off on a little adventure. But, I hope that the thrills will not prove too intoxicating. I’d love to see Chabon use his skills to say something important, rather than pour his energies into becoming an adventure writer who specializes in exotic Jewish characters and locales.
But, hey, it’s his career. And, truth be told, I’ll probably enjoy reading whatever he writes. At the same time, I can’t help wondering what his ultimate legacy will look like. Another Philip Roth? No. The next Saul Bellow? Definitely not.
Michael Chabon will be something else, something different. But, I can’t foretell much more than that. For the time being, the only thing I can say for sure is that Chabon is unpredictable.
And that may be why I’m already looking forward to his next book.
"Gentlemen of the Road: A Tale of Adventure" is published by Del Rey Books (204 pages, $21.95).