The Storyteller

Jodi Picoult's "The Storyteller", illustrates, once again, how sensitive and perceptive she is, and what a deep understanding of human nature she has. In this remarkable book,the psyche of different characters is delved into.

THERE are several interesting stories in this book: there's Minka's story (a fantasy she had started writing as a young girl); there's the story of her life she's recounting to Sage, and there's Josef's story (also narrated to Sage).

Sage Singer is a young Jewish girl with a facial scar (which she got in a car accident and because of which she has become a near-recluse). She is someone who feels that "Religion isn't in your DNA. You don't believe just because your parents believe".

Josef Weber, an 85-year-old Nazi, living under an assumed identity as a respected member of society, makes Sage his friend and confidante. He tells her about his horrible deeds during the Holocaust and seeks redemption; he requests her to put an end to his life.

Minka, Sage's grandmother, a Jewish survivor who has never spoken of her hellish days as a prisoner, to anyone, finally opens up. She relates her story to Sage; this story is linked to Josef's in a bizarre way. Sage's quandary on hearing the two tales is an integral part of the book.

Picoult takes us down paths that unravel various truths and reflect the complexities of human nature in an intriguing way. We see the conflict between good and evil, the desperation of remorse, the compelling need for revenge and retribution, and the potency of the ability to forgive. Josef's brother, Franz, believes that power isn't doing something terrible to someone who's weaker than one. It's having the strength to do something terrible and choosing not to.

Steely nerves are needed to keep on reading about the unimaginable torture the Jews are subjected to. Picoult makes the rawness of these acts sear the pages and jar the senses. The poignancy of the victims' helplessness hangs thick in the air: "It was as if death had become part of the landscape". Consequently, a sudden, unexpected kindness however slight, is felt acutely: "Sometimes all it takes to become human again is someone who can see you that way, no matter how you present on the surface".

Another awe-inspiring character is Leo Stein. He finds his work of hunting down Nazis and turning them in, very gratifying. Is this work vengeance? Or is it justice? The fine line between the two is scrutinized here.

Picoult is such a wordsmith; she makes even the mundane sound special. Minka's friend tells her that she doesn't just tell stories, but that she paints with words. Minka herself says "I pulled out word after word from my core, like silk for a spider's web spinning a make-believe life". After getting a pen in her hand after a long time, Minka remarks "Holding a pen felt so normal that my past, which I had surgically separated from the current state of my existence, came rushing back"; "The story flowed like blood from my hand"; "When I wrote, I felt untethered, impossibly free".

The most uplifting part of the book is the constant presence of hope in people's hearts, and the good that human beings are capable of: "Forgiveness isn't something you do for someone else. It's something you do for yourself".

Sage observes that history is not about dates and places and wars, but about the people who fill the spaces between them.