Womanly words

Barzilai unravels the various genealogies of this man-made creature and shows what it has meant at different times and places. The basic elements of the legend have been used and reused in the contexts of the major wars of the 20th century — there are mud-cloaked, living-dead men who returned from the First World War; Jewish immigrants to New York in the 1920s dealing with what it meant to be Jewish in America; and Israeli depictions in the ’40s of Arab nations animated by distant British masters. There are revenge fantasies about the Second World War, in which the Golem becomes a Nazikiller, and the Golem as robot and weapon of mass destruction, always threatening its creator.

The multiple strands of Golem are what constitute its great strength, presented not just chronologically but within themes that cross eras and borders.

Occasionally, it feels that Barzilai is reading too much into her story, but the book’s overall impact lies in its revelation of the Golem in all its glory, a monster that expresses the fear of modern warfare alongside an ambiguous relationship to Jewish heritage.

Barzilai painstakingly analyses films, books and comics to reveal the Golem’s enduring cultural presence and influence. And the violence of this appealing creature, especially the idea of Jewish violence, is what makes it simultaneously so threatening.

Roni Tabick is the rabbi of New Stoke Newington Synagogue in London

IMAGINE THE scene: it is 1982 and a young author is attending a meeting at a Los Angeles publishing house — let’s call it Marlowe and Greenstreet. The author is ushered into the director’s office. “Good morning, Mr Marlowe”, she says, in a low, confident voice. “Thank you for seeing me. I have a book I’d like to discuss.”

Mr Marlowe removes the cigarette from his mouth. “I’m all ears, sweetheart,” he growls.

“I’ve written a crime thriller where the main character is a private investigator out of Chicago. Tough, but vulnerable. The twist is, she’s a woman.”

The publisher gazes at her for a second or two, his mouth twitching.

“A woman PI? Y’know what would happen if we published a book about a woman PI. No one would buy it, no one would read it and my sales figures would fall through the floor. Pretty as you are, sweetheart, I won’t take the fall for you.”

The author rises from her chair. “I can see I’m wasting your time, Mr Marlowe. I’ll take my book elsewhere. Pity

— this could have been the start of a beautiful friendship.”

With that, she leaves, and never looks back.

Any publisher who turned down Sara

Paretsky Sara Paretsky: refreshing