On The Yiddish Policemen's Union
Anne Lowenkopf -- September 27, 2007
An Essay by writer-teacher Anne Lowenkopf on parts of Michael Chabon's Yiddish Policemen's Union. A good example of Anne's teaching style, which includes learning writing from close analysis of the best (and sometimes worst!) of other writers.
Let's examine the genre elements in these pages:
In all detective novels whether police procedurals, PI, or amateur, the promise (or expectation) is that the detective will go about searching for clues, and that is exactly what we see Myer and Berko doing; the unfinished chess set and book of famous chess games in the murdered Lasker's room suggests he was a chess player, and this in a town where chess commands the passion and dedication that football does in the present day USA. So the two men go to the hotel where chess is played almost nonstop. They collar chess players, asking them if they know Lasker. The two of them knew at once that Lasker's was an assumed identity, for the victim had named himself after a famous, dead chess maven. They're hoping to find Lasker's true If identity and, of course, they're seeking to discover the man's enemies.
Michael Chabon
In keeping with police procedural tradition the case quickly becomes, off limits for the detectives, their boss, Landsman's ex-wife, having declared the case fit only for "effective resolution," to be shoved out of sight, never to be seen again. But Landsman is obsessed by the case and begs his partner to risk losing his job to help him solve it.
At the same time something else is going on -- dedicated mystery fans are looking for clues, but though the mystery writer, if true to his promise, has inserted clues into his narrative, he has done it Easter- (you should pardon the expression) egg-hunt style, hiding the clues where they are likely to be overlooked.
One clue that Chabon hits hard in this section, scarcely bothering to conceal it at all, is that somehow Lasker or his death is tied in with the dangerous Black Hats, the Lubavitcher sect of orthodox Jews that in Sitka has become reminiscent of the Costra Nostra of the 40s, a mob grown powerful enough to exert considerable political influence.
The speculative fiction elements in this novel continue to be expanded upon, the growing grimly realistic picture of Yiddish Alaska, a densely packed community of grinding poverty and seeming hopeless future. Chabon supports this characterization with full sensory descriptions, visuals (of course), but also smell, sound, the characters' reactions; they are all richly used to create his imaginary world and make it feel real.
Chabon's mastery of writing is breath taking. He creates a mood that hangs over his story like an inscrutable fog. Readers feel it, smell it, almost taste it, and he does it as he is producing characters, their relationships, and distributing clues. He keeps adding to and emphasizing characteristics of his two detectives. Notice how he brings in Berko's Tlingit-Jewish origins and Landsman's drinking. And in this section we get our first hint that Landsman has more than issues with Bina.
At the same time Chabon keeps pushing along the story. We don't know where we're going, but the ride is exciting.
The pace is a bit of fancy footwork a multitude of sins. For speculative fiction writers that kind of pace combined with mood functions to distract readers from holes in the logic of your universe. For historical fiction writers the pace and mood spice up needed background. Notice how frequently Chabon personalizes background, bringing it out as part of a character's description and storyline. Romance writers and those planning to use a romantic subplot in your fiction will be interested in Chabon's developing the romantic theme by hints and action instead of spelling it out. From this approach the reader thinks, Aha! They're in love, and feels clever for spotting it.
The anomaly of fiction writing is that whenever you can keep your readers guessing, or make them feel they are ahead of the story, they will feel waves of interest and affection for your writing.
I'm hoping you begin to focus on Chabon's tremendous bursts of energy in his narrative. It's a good part of what makes his novels' so readable. Reading them energizes his reader, making them feel excited, intense and so intent on the story.
And I suspect this particular novel brought an especially strong surge of energy to Chabon's writing because it allowed him to comment and extrapolate on his family's culture. Whatever, our family culture leaves a life-long impact on us. Usually our individual response to it is ambivalent or, more accurately, bipolar--we love it and we hate it. Finding ways in which we can infuse the culture of our childhood, the relationships of our childhood calls forth that tsunami of emotional response we carry, usually half or completely hidden, from childhood days. Read Pat Conroy's Beach Music, comparing the first part of the novel where he is fictionalizing a part of his life having nothing to do with his childhood to a latter part of his novel dealing with his mother and you can see the importance of childhood emotional response to fiction.
However you come by it, energy is an important ingredient to fiction. Cherish your passions, however inconvenient they may be in quotidian life. At the computer they can be magical for your fiction. If--and this is a big if--you find means to release the passion onto paper. This is part of Davida's usefulness for your writing. Often this--escaping their inhibitions as they write-- is the reason writers have turned to alcohol and other inhibition releasers--an approach I don't recommend. Find your own way, one that augments your writing without harming your body; try as many techniques as you stumble on.
And please, don't write about what doesn't involve you emotionally. It won't benefit your writing, no matter how fashionable the subject.
First your story needs to grab you; then it will grab your readers.
You can read more of Anne Lowenkopf at her web site at http://thewriterservice.com. Find more about her classes through Santa Barbara Adult Education at the Schott Center at 805-687-0812.