The tra­di­tion of the Just Men is an ancient one, dat­ing from the time of the prophet Isi­ah. These thir­ty-six mor­tals ​“are the hearts of the world mul­ti­plied, and into them, as into one recep­ta­cle, pour all our griefs.” With­out the Just Men to wit­ness and accept the suf­fer­ing of human­i­ty, mankind could not sur­vive. It would be over­whelmed by the knowl­edge of the cru­el­ty men inflict on their fel­low men. The Last of the Just is an account of how the descen­dants of Rab­bi Yom Tov shoul­dered the bur­den of this knowledge.

As Andre Schwarz-Bart acquaints us with suc­ceed­ing gen­er­a­tion of Levys, he also schools us in the trag­ic lega­cy of Jew­ish per­se­cu­tion. But nei­ther the pogroms of the Cos­sacks nor the Span­ish Inqui­si­tion could damp­en the reli­gious ardor of Europe’s Jews. Expul­sion after expul­sion – from Eng­land, France, Por­tu­gal, Gera­many, Rus­sia – final­ly lead the Levys to Poland. Zemy­ock, a peace­ful vil­lage shel­tered in a val­ley, will be their home for two cen­turies. It is here we meet Morde­cai and lat­er Ben­jamin, grand­fa­ther and father of Ernie. But Ernie will not be born in Zemy­ock; the pogroms of the Russ­ian Rev­o­lu­tion deter­mine that the Levys emi­grate once more – to Germany.