Love conquers all — or does it? In Charles Dennis’s lively, romantic psychological thriller, Clare loves Harris, her husband, or maybe Edwin; Harris loves maybe Clare or maybe Leah, who may or may not be real; Leah loves Shimon, but they’re caught in a time trap. Then there’s Barbara, who’s about to marry Gordon, but she seems to be the alter ego of Leah …
The cover illustration, a Chagalesque portrait of a bride and groom, sets the mood for this modern-day tale filled with humor, colorful characters, whimsy, fantasy, and, yes, love. Harris Strider, a psychologist, an ordinary, harmless — but perhaps a bit pompous — nobody, is asked to confirm the sanity of shallow socialite Barbara, who has been having memory lapses. During these episodes, she is observed behaving strangly. As her wedding date looms, is she a jittery bride-to-be, a multiple personality, possessed by the spirit of Leah Littman, a bride who died one hundred years ago — or is she just plain crazy?
As Dr. Strider attempts to unravel her psyche, he is drawn into a miasma of fantasy, Kabbalah, migrating souls, history, and deception. No one is who they seem to be, or only who they seem. Not even himself. He is warned, several times, by friends, colleagues, strangers, and even family, to drop the matter. But he becomes obsessed with Leah, or rather, his fantasy of her, endangering his marriage, his medical practice, respect, friendship, and even his sanity.
There is a strange, charismatic figure, the Magiker Rebbe, who operated in the Pale of Settlement one hundred years ago. Six barren women mysteriously conceived after he ‘treated’ them(!). Other wonders are also credited to him. An old journal comes into Dr. Strider’s hands that updates the Magiker’s history, and illuminates the present.
Music resounds throughout the story: the chanting prayers, the virtual or imaginary orchestra that Edwin conducts, the opera that the journal’s translator wants to write about the Magiker.
Harris Strider is called upon to right an ancient wrong: he succeeds, almost in spite of himself. But he’s only the catalyst.
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