Fic­tion

Mrs. Lilien­blum’s Cloud Factory

  • Review
By – March 31, 2025

Known for Jerusalem Beach—an award-win­ning debut col­lec­tion of often star­tling philo­soph­ic and spec­u­la­tive short sto­ries — Iddo Gefen returns with his first nov­el. Mrs. Lilien­blum’s Cloud Fac­to­ry is writ­ten in a more com­ic vein than his pre­vi­ous work, and the high­ly enter­tain­ing result is an exquis­ite blend of endear­ing por­traits of a tight­ly knit fam­i­ly and their hard­scrab­ble com­mu­ni­ty, togeth­er with acer­bic and some­times affec­tion­ate satire of peo­ple dri­ven to high-tech hys­te­ria, phish­ing scams, faux-phil­an­thropy, cli­mate manip­u­la­tion, roman­tic love, and ulti­mate­ly humanity’s eter­nal pen­chant for delusion. 

Set in the Israeli desert over­look­ing the world’s largest ero­sion crater,” the novel’s ren­der­ing of a vast emp­ty space offers sly­ly oblique com­men­tary on the hare­brained cal­cu­la­tions and ambi­tions of its char­ac­ters. The sto­ry begins with the arrest­ing image of its tit­u­lar char­ac­ter (an inven­tor extra­or­di­naire”) — who has been report­ed miss­ing for three days — calm­ly sit­ting in her bathrobe in the midst of desert wilder­ness with an ice-cold mar­ti­ni in hand. A fright­ened Dutch hik­er who has lost his way stum­bles across her, uncer­tain whether Mrs. Sarai Lilien­blum is just a mirage. What ensues is high­ly inge­nious and hilar­i­ous sto­ry­telling. Mrs. Lilienblum’s adult chil­dren, Eli the ide­al­ist and Nao­mi the ratio­nal­ist — both fraz­zled by their mother’s baf­fling dis­ap­pear­ance and overnight trans­for­ma­tion into an inter­net sen­sa­tion — scram­ble to keep up with the chaos caused by her bizarre but poten­tial­ly lucra­tive inven­tion: a device that vac­u­ums up desert sand to pro­duce rainclouds. 

The eccen­tric Lilien­blums man­age a mod­est desert lodge; for years, the town’s mea­ger tourism has sub­sist­ed pri­mar­i­ly on the mys­tery of a leg­endary Irish­man whose dis­ap­pear­ance into the sur­round­ing desert attracts back­pack­ers from around the world (adding intrigu­ing lay­ers of con­spir­a­cy and moral trans­gres­sion to an already unusu­al plot). Despite Ben Gurion’s cel­e­brat­ed promise to help make their desert bloom, they’ve suf­fered decades of neglect by the state. Now, as word gets out about Mrs. Lilienblum’s mirac­u­lous inven­tion, jour­nal­ists and investors begin to descend on the vil­lage known as The Cliff” (a clear stand-in for Mitzpe Ramon, the south­ern Negev devel­op­ment town), and its res­i­dents grow fever­ish­ly excit­ed by the prospect of a boom­ing economy. 

At one point, Mrs. Lilienblum’s son Eli fond­ly recalls East Euro­pean Jew­ish folk­lore from his child­hood about the dwellers of Chelm, the imag­i­nary town of child­like fools (iron­i­cal­ly dubbed the Wise Men of Chelm”) where the men scheme to cap­ture the sil­very light of the moon reflect­ed in a rain bar­rel with a tow­el. Eli wasn’t entire­ly sure he under­stood the sto­ry, but he remem­bered well what his moth­er had told him at the time — that every­one believes they have a moon hid­den in some bar­rel, and that even if it’s not true, the tow­el must nev­er be lift­ed, because some­times one’s belief that they are in pos­ses­sion of the moon is the only thing they have’.” That poignant sen­ti­ment nim­bly cap­tures the essence of the novel’s out­look, as both lit­er­al and fig­u­ra­tive dream­ers abound. And as one local explains, the res­i­dents’ hopes and aspi­ra­tions are fur­ther com­pli­cat­ed by the desert itself, a mys­ti­fy­ing place where the laws of physics work a lit­tle dif­fer­ent­ly, and the things that hap­pen here don’t hap­pen any­where else.” 

The spir­it­ed whim­sy of Mrs. Lilienblum’s Cloud Fac­to­ry will cap­ti­vate many read­ers, while the fate of a frag­ile love affair will undoubt­ed­ly stir oth­ers. Dis­tin­guished by sparkling dia­logue, an unerr­ing grasp of the com­plex under­cur­rents of close fam­i­lies, and sheer mad­cap momen­tum, it’s a lark from start to fin­ish. Read­ers who find them­selves miss­ing Meir Shalev’s inim­itable gifts for blend­ing tragi­com­ic explo­rations of human psy­chol­o­gy with an indeli­ble sense of place will find much to enjoy in Gefen’s nar­ra­tive. Daniel­la Zamir’s trans­la­tion cap­tures all the wry absur­di­ty and human warmth of the original.

Ranen Omer-Sher­man is the JHFE Endowed Chair in Juda­ic Stud­ies at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Louisville, author of sev­er­al books and edi­tor of Amos Oz: The Lega­cy of a Writer in Israel and Beyond.

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