Wouk is 97, so I feel a tad uncomfortable saying anything negative about his latest work, this epistolary novel about the author himself and a young (formerly) Hasidic Jewish filmmaker in a strange collaboration to make a new epic movie of the story of Moses. The plot takes several comedic twists involving Hollywood moguls, Israeli biologists developing algae-based petroleum substitutes, a mysterious Australian gazillionaire and a slightly naive but exceedingly handsome Australian sheep farmer who requires lots of persuasion to agree to play the film's lead role. Sound familiar? Sheep farmer?
My biggest problem here is that Wouk isn't able to write in a way that sounds like the emails a 30-something-year-old woman (his filmmaker Margo) would write. Which would be OK, except that the novel is composed of emails, texts, voicemail transcripts, and other such 'modern' communication forms. It makes for discordant reading, which is too bad considering what an unusual and daring attempt this novel is.
An additional problem, at least for me, is the sense I had while reading that the whole thing was an extended inside joke, requiring knowledge of Wouk's earlier works and an insider's view of Hasidic life.
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