★★★★★ “For anyone who has ever loved deeply and been willing to take risks for the sake of love.” Rachel Barenbaum author of Atomic Anna
When American-born Jennifer falls in love with French-born Philippe during the First Intifada in Israel, she understands their relationship isn't perfect.
Both 23, both Jewish, they lead very different lives: she's a secular tourist, he's an observant immigrant. Despite their opposing outlooks on two fundamental issues—country and religion—they are determined to make it work. For the next 20 years, they root and uproot their growing family, each longing for a singular place to call home.
In Places We Left Behind, Jennifer puts her marriage under a microscope, examining commitment and compromise, faith and family while moving between prose and poetry, playing with language and form, daring the reader to read between the lines.
AWARDS for Landed: *Gold Book Award Winner, Literary Titan 2024
AWARDS for Places We Left Behind: *Finalist for Autobiography/Memoir, Foreword Reviews Book Awards 2023 *Finalist for Women's Literature Non-Fiction, Next Generation Indie Book Awards 2024 *Finalist for Adult Nonfiction, Wishing Shelf Book Awards 2023 *Finalist in Multicultural Nonfiction, American Legacy Book Awards 2024 *Finalist in Multicultural Nonfiction, American Book Fest's 20th Annual Best Book Awards 2023 *Finalist in Multicultural Nonfiction, Independent Author Network Book of the Year Awards 2023 *Pushcart Prize nomination for "Hand in hand," Vine Leaves Press 2023 *Gold Book Award Winner, Literary Titan 2023 *Finalist for book cover design, Wishing Shelf Book Awards 2023
I read this book in one day! Making compromises for love is universal, but this true story details the deep sadness and disappointment the author and her husband must endure for years at a time when living in an environment/country that at times suffocates their souls. Even then, the love shines through. A light is guiding the way through the whole book. This is why I had to keep reading, to find out if the compromise on both their parts proved too great. The honesty of the author pulls me as a reader in. I trust her truth, her deeply felt joy and pain, her right to write exactly what she felt at each pivotal point in her life as a wife, mother, professional, traveler.
I loved the white space on the page, giving me time to digest each scene. I loved the poetry, the enjambment, lines placed strategically on the page to show movement in the scene.
The language is clear, direct. The author takes the reader into her confidence as a friend. There is a warmth and loving feeling to the whole book.
Most importantly, there is a hard won confidence at the end that resonated with me in my own life.
Thank you for this fast paced, deeply felt love story, love of family, love of self, love of place, love of spouse, all in one.
Formally inventive, moving, and funny, Jennifer Lang's memoir-in-miniature, Places We Left Behind, is as eclectic and electric as the author's own adventures. Both young and Jewish during the First Intifada in Israel, Lang, a secular American tourist, falls for Philippe, an observant immigrant from France. Their marked differences do not stop them from making a life and family together, but their journey across decades and continents is anything but simple and straightforward as they navigate thorny questions of identity, parenting, and home. The flash essay form is perfectly suited to the themes of fragmentation and restlessness that Lang explores with striking candor and clarity. Deeply human and humorous, this book is among the most charming I've read in a long time.
I started reading this book, thinking that it would take me a few days to finish. But once I began reading it, I couldn't stop and ended up reading it in one day. The author writes a memoir that is spare, yet highly personal. And her writing style is extremely witty, so that even in the painful moments, you are never dragged down by them. I particularly admired how the author depicted the ongoing struggle between her secular Jewish identity and her husband's embrace of a more religious mode of life. Their attempt to resolve the differences between them is a beautiful example of selfless dedication to what it means to make a marriage work.
The unconventional form of this memoir, tiny vignettes packed full of meaning and intimation, feel as natural as a casual conversation. For those not familiar with Judaism, Hebrew, French, or the Arab-Israeli Conflict, there are footnotes. The book is about those things but also so much more.
Lang’s use of strikethrough text is powerful. My favorite. “How we can live our lives together" replaces, “How will we live our lives together? A reasonable question for any two people considering cohabitation, but essential for a couple with such a marked difference in lifestyle. To their credit, they both compromise as the family moves from Israel to France to San Francisco to New York.
Nearing their twentieth anniversary, Philippe is unhappy living in America, but Jennifer doesn’t want to uproot the family again. They need to make some hard decisions.
This short, compelling memoir offers lessons in language, history and relationship. It is a love story in motion.
A beautiful exploration of love, marriage, identity, and belonging.
The short, chiseled chapters are like prose poems weaving through Paris, Tel Aviv, San Francisco, and New York. The end leaves the reader on a gentle cliffhanger, wondering whether the narrator will put down roots in Israel. Good thing there’s a book 2!
Jennifer Lang makes it easy to commit to this memoir-in-miniature with big ideas on marriage, religion, family, career, and the importance of being true to oneself. In Places We Left Behind, between many intensely negotiated moves to America, France, and Israel, Lang strives to establish roots though she feels uprooted. Yoga helps her find balance yet her search for truth continues as she struggles to determine which accommodations she can live with for the ones she loves. These lyrical essays wrestle with the need for control and the possibilities presented by change and ultimately, through honesty and humor, reveal a path to freedom.
Brief memoir written by a friend of a friend and crafted in a unique storytelling form. I appreciated the candor with which she told her story. Having finished reading it days before the catastrophe of October 7, I found myself wondering about the fate of her family and friends and whether she and her husband were on one side of the ocean or the other when their world was turned upside down. I’ll have to follow up with my friend to hear an update
Jennifer Friedman Lang's PLACES WE LEFT BEHIND is a book that I will not leave behind, but will carry with me in my heart. It's beautifully written and finely observed, and takes on the big questions about parenthood, place, love, and life.
I highly recommend this thoughtful, thought-provoking book.
When Jennifer Lang meets a handsome Israeli from a French background which she describes in PLACES WE LEFT BEHIND: A MEMOIR IN MINIATURE, she is not sure what she’s gotten into, but almost immediately she is in an intense relationship. Although both are Jewish, Jennifer coming from a West Coast California family is not sure what sort of Judaism he practices, but it seems worlds away from what she understands about her own version of their religion. Of course, they wed, and as the couple bounces back and forth from one country to another, each trying to placate the other, culture and location are often the subjects of their marital conflicts. Adding children and political conflicts into the mix only adds to the author’s confusion, depression, and sense of not belonging anywhere. Eventually, she finds yoga which assuages her loneliness and gives her a sense of belonging within herself.
The book is composed of short vignettes. Many of which I had wished were longer, such as when her son joined the IDF, which I imagine generated considerable anxiety along with a myriad of other feelings.
For anyone contemplating marrying someone from a different culture, this book gives an interesting picture of what is involved, both physically and emotionally.
Jennifer Lang’s micro-memoir may be slight in size but the story we discover in Places We Left Behind (Vine Leaves Press, 2023, $14.99) is anything but small. Lang’s creative book tackles weighty topics: how do we find our footing when our relationships transport us away from our comfort zones, whether location, (Jewish) observance, family, profession, or lifestyle? It’s difficult to imagine a (Jewish) woman to whom this contradiction between self-sacrifice and self-actualization does not speak.
A native Californian and transplant to Tel Aviv, via France and New York, Lang is not unique in today’s globalized and tech-age-nomadic culture. Her peripatetic life started after she left her hometown in the Bay Area at 19. In intimate scenes that vibrate with life and energy, and with the help of lean, astute language, Lang shows us just how harrowing it can be to survive the negotiations and compromises that accompany marriage and starting a family, not to mention the added challenges when our spouse is a different nationality and level of observance.
Jennifer Lang’s mixed-genre memoir Places We Left Behind dramatizes both the tension and the richness that can arise in a marriage when each spouse feels drawn to different locations and ways of life. While theirs is a highly personal dilemma (or imbroglio, as she calls it) informed by their particular backgrounds, it has emotional resonance for wider audiences.
Both Lang and her husband Philippe are Jewish, yet he practices more strictly and wants to live in Israel. She prefers the San Francisco Bay Area life where she grew up, close to family and yoga studios, while he would like their children not to be the only ones keeping Sabbath and visibly following Jewish customs.
Yoga becomes a metaphor for Lang’s quest for balance as she and Philippe bounce around between Israel, Paris, New York, and California. Drawn to yoga, she gets certified as a teacher and cultivates this practice and community as a method of rooting herself.
Other tools she draws on include poetry, and this short memoir is interspersed with concrete poems, where text spaces itself on the page, reflecting her thoughts, fears, hopes, and speculations. A few striking examples of these poems, such as “Witness,” address how world affairs, such as the September 11th World Trade Center attacks, become personal concerns when you live in the vicinity. That poem also points out how living in the United States does not automatically protect you from the kind of violence the news associates with the Middle East. However, while in Israel, headlines that often simply drone on in the background elsewhere, such as Saddam Hussein’s aggressive moves or the Camp David Accords, capture her full attention. The political climate is also not the only potential source of danger: she reflects on how she’s more comfortable allowing her children to walk or bike to school outside of the Bay Area.
Lang plays with text in other ways, inserting some thoughts into parentheses to reflect her inner dialogue while she’s experiencing her outward, linear life story. Other words are crossed out, illustrating thoughts she has but doesn’t want to fully consider. Footnotes also explain intricacies of Jewish cultural customs or history not every reader will understand, and this allows readers to review them at the end of a page rather than interrupting the emotional flow of a scene with explanation.
Many chapters seem to end on emotional cliffhangers, with Lang posing a worry or question about her relationship or future, even before marrying Philippe. The next chapter would then begin with a statement or description illustrating what she decided: a wedding ceremony, a pregnancy. This propels readers through the book, conveying that life sometimes just moves forward whether we are ready for change or not.
Chapters, and the entire book, are relatively short, suggesting that issues which, like the text, may seem small at first glance, loom larger in the couple’s lives. Their three children complicate the issues even more when they get old enough to have opinions of their own about where to live. Near the end, she graphically reduces the family’s dilemma to two sets of coordinates, representing a city in the center of Israel and her parents’ home in Piedmont, CA.
As the couple’s married life marches forward, and work, culture, and eventually the oldest son’s enlistment in the Israel Defense Forces propel them to different locations, they realize that no matter where they live, there will always be somewhere at least one of them “left behind.” The compromise Lang crafts at the very end, to which Philippe agrees, gives her space and freedom to define her Jewish practice on her own terms while living in his preferred location. In this way, she can stay grounded in her own life while following him and their son, regardless of location.
In keeping with the title, the memoir’s final pages illustrate, not the new beginning ahead for them once again in Israel, but the end of the past chapter of family life, leaving behind their home in her country of birth. Just before that, she talks about finding the positives in change, referencing metaphors of seasons rather than of abrupt cutting of ties.
The basic plot of Places We Left Behind can be read and understood quickly, which Lang acknowledges with her handy timeline at the beginning. However, more thoughtful readings and re-readings allow for an appreciation of the full depth and grace of her journey and what it conveys about the meaning of Jewish practice and human relationships in general.
This review originally appeared in The New York Journal of Books: "Places We Left Behind is almost a choose your own adventure scenario: While living in a foreign country, you meet someone who qualifies as the man of your dreams, except for two potential caveats: 1) you differ greatly in your levels of religious observance, and 2) both of you want to settle near your families, who live on two different continents. Given the obvious conflicts ahead, do you regretfully desist, or do you throw conventional wisdom to the wind and continue the adventure, come what may?
For Jennifer Lang, the author of the “memoir-in-miniature” Places We Left Behind, the answer was clear. From the moment they met, in 1989 at a Sabbath meet-up for Francophones in Jerusalem, Phillippe checked all the right boxes: “French, Jewish, Smart, Single and Sexy with a guarded smile.” Both were 23.
In a series of short, pithy chapters, Lang depicts the story of their peripatetic union, which traces a trajectory of marriage, children, the demands and transformations of careers, and the complexity of figuring out where to set down roots. This issue emerges a central theme as it becomes clear, among relocations to Paris, California, New York, and Israel, that there is no place on earth in which both can feel equally comfortable and at home.
Lang breaks down traditional boundaries of genre, using the tactics and structures of poetry and playing with form in order to bring out elements of the narrative in inventive ways. For example, in this passage, in which she calls Philippe to tell him of a possible home purchase:
"Mid-winter, I board a red-eye flight to JFK solo. That Sunday, I phone Philippe from White Plains, where friends rave about its diverse Modern Orthodox community and plentiful Jewish school options, to tell him I bid on a century-old Tudor with a half-moon shaped garden, half the cost of northern California.
"Are you sure? He asks.
"I am anything but sure. I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never lived east of Illinois or bought a house. I don’t love the sidewalk-less streets or snow-covered roofs but grasp our predicament."
The book is interesting also in the way it explores the delicate dance of give and take that Jennifer and Philippe must perform as they negotiate the most basic elements of their marriage. What is one willing to give up in order to please one’s spouse? What cannot be forfeited? What makes a marriage worthwhile, even in the face of painful and unsatisfying compromise?
But by far their most challenging issue is the disparity in the realm of religion. In a chapter entitled 4:1, Lang recalls a Friday night, around the family Sabbath table.
"Who knows the Parshat HaShavuah? Phillipe asks, seated at the head of the table like French monarchs: Henry IV, King Louis XIV, King Louis XVI.
"Me,me,me, our youngest says, shooting her arm up like an obedient first grader. She rambles about some biblical character while I fantasize about California sun . . . Before long, the four of them engage in a conversation that neither includes nor interests me."
What does interest in Lang is yoga, and in time she moves from the role of student to that of teacher, employing principles of patience, tolerance, and inner calm in order to learn to reconcile the conflicting parts of her life. (And indeed, a second memoir, entitled: Landed: A yogi’s memoir in pieces & poses, also from Vine Leaves Press, is forthcoming in the fall of 2024.)
It isn’t a simple thing to summarize the complexities and challenges of a marriage in a brief memoir that is both entertaining and edifying, but this slim volume succeeds in suggesting how it might be done."
After I'd finished reading Jennifer Lang's book, I sat on my couch, motionless, staring ahead. I did this so long that my husband -- not usually that observant of my behavior -- asked me what had happened. "I'm just trying to absorb everything I read," I said, incapable of giving him an adequate answer. "I just read this amazing book," I said, "and I'm trying to process everything." I should note that I'm an avid reader, too, but I'm not sure this has ever happened to me before, as though my mind had to catch up with everything I'd read.
Jennifer Lang's book is not something that should be read quickly, even though it's fairly short. It should not be read while multi-tasking. And don't try to put it in an easy-to-categorize slot. It won't fit.
The author takes us on a journey with her -- physical and emotional and spiritual -- as she struggles and tries to successfully combine her heart and her mind, loving her husband and her family, with decisions to live in Israel, in France, in the U.S. She takes us with her on what sometimes seems to be a stream of consciousness trip, but we have to do the work, too. The reader has to keep up, reconcile all of her experiences, the enormous role yoga has played in her life, the way she is pulled between cultures, taken out of her comfort zone. But always, always, she is being truthful and articulate about what she is experiencing.
Probably, as a reader, you haven't had to make the exact decisions she makes daily, about where to live, how to navigate a complex marriage, how to find security and safety in life, but I guarantee that you will identify with much of her dilemma, even if the situations and protagonists are different.
Places We Left Behind does not lend itself to an easy summary, to facile pronouncements, but this is a fact: the writing is brilliant, the story will make you beg for more, and the creativity the author shows is beyond compare.....When I tried to think of one word to describe it -- impossible -- what I came up with is: MARVEL. It's a marvel, and I highly recommend it.
The summer I turned sixteen, my mom registered me for an Israeli tennis program on one condition: that I wouldn't fall in love with an Israeli and set my sights on making aliyah. I kept the deal, falling first for an adorable American who packed his passport on the way back to the US and then for my high school prom date, who eventually became my husband.
A new memoir by Jennifer Lang helps me imagine the scenario my mom had feared. At 23, Lang fell head over heels for French-born Philippe during the First Intifada in Israel. Theirs was a whirlwind romance, with Philippe suggesting they live together just eleven days after they met. A day after their wedding, en route to France, Philippe asks, “Do you feel like we just made things complicated?”
They had, as readers will learn in Places We Left Behind, a micro-memoir told in reflective vignettes of the couple's globe-trotting life and conflict over their differing Jewish observance and which of three countries (America, Israel, France) to settle in with their three children. Lang longs to live in the US, where she can raise her children in her “mother tongue.” Philippe, who grows increasingly more observant, “feels dead in America” and wants to move to Israel. For many years, a resolution seems impossible.
The author runs Israel Writers Studio in Tel Aviv and has crafted a thoughtful and magnetic work in a very compelling form! Try it - I read it three times!
I also spoke to Jennifer and you can read my interview with her here:
On “mixed marriages”: “Hold onto yourself. I am all for falling in love. I’m a big proponent of following your heart, but hold onto your identity.”
On parenting: “How did I end up so transient and rootless? My parents showed me the world.”
On writing: “I began to chisel and cut my prose, to get smaller and smaller to find the heart of things. Finally, I turned the camera on myself, not just writing about my marriage, but about my individual journey too.”
In "Places We Left Behind: a memoir-in-miniature," Jennifer Lang has crafted a unique and deeply personal account of her life’s journey. Through a series of short vignettes, Lang takes us on a tour of the places she has called home, from the rugged California coast to the lively, teeming streets of Tel Aviv. But what comes through from this truly one-of-a-kind memoir is that life is not only about the places we’ve lived but also – and maybe even more importantly – about the people we’ve loved.
Her story is raw, honest and vulnerable. "A grown, confident woman with a fierce gaze stares back. Enough! I’m determined to reconcile my divided selves: the me that craves newness and the me that needs structure and control, even if they might forever remain at odds." This struggle is at the heart of "Places We Left Behind," making it a deeply relatable and moving story.
The structure becomes as important as the text itself, which is short and powerful. Each “miniature” has its own unique format and rhythm which includes the use of footnotes, poetry, numbers, unusual page layouts, surprising graphics and even yoga poses. Yet these inventive literary devices never feel gimmicky or contrived since they amplify the emotional power of the narrative. They make us pause, infusing the “read” with reflection, introspection and yes, wonder. Like an Impressionist master who plays with color and light to capture not only an image but an emotional truth, Lang plays with words and styles. She has a gift for capturing the essence of the moment in all its fullness with an astonishingly spare style. So few words say so much. Whole worlds of pain, joy, struggle, belonging and displacement open up to us. Physical and emotional intimacy. War, depression and anxiety. But above all, hope.
Places We Left Behind is the autobiography of Jewish-American author Jennifer Lang. Skipping swiftly over the first eighteen years of her life, the book picks up Lang's story in Israel, meeting the charming Frenchman Phillippe for the first time. What follows is a 140 page rollercoaster as Lang navigates the tricky line between the religious faith and living a seemingly ordinary existence as an American citizen, culminating in a Lan having to make a significant decision, one which will affect the very core of what it means to be a Jewish woman in the twenty-first century.
This book has many likeable qualities, not least Lang's ability in capturing emotion in a way that is both direct and to the point. Where many authors would skirt over details or shy away from exposing themselves to the reader, Places We Left Behind makes it clear that no matter the romanticism, no relationship is smooth sailing. Even those grounded in a mutual connection of faith and religion can so easily hit turbulence. Lang's words demonstrate these challenges, placed alongside those who do not fully understand what it means to hold religion as a cornerstone of family life.
Lang's memoir is dotted in places with poetic excerpts, possibly to add emphasis. Within Places We Left Behind, these were a somewhat distracting, especially after reading long spells of traditional prose formatted in conventional paragraphs. It might be others enjoy the sudden change, but personally it does not hold enough significance versus if they had been written in conventional prose instead.
Places We Left Behind is a interesting memoir for anyone living within, or wanting to better understand, day-to-day Judaism. For those who see faith as black or white, purist believer or not, Places We Left Behind shows us the complex relationships of those who dwell in the grey.
In 1989—before moving on to graduate school after studying and working in Paris—23-year-old Jennifer Lang went to Israel to study Hebrew and spend time with her only sibling and extended family. During the First Intifada, she met Philippe, a Frenchman, at a Shabbat retreat. When almost immediately he revealed the extent of his religious fervor, she asked herself, “Just how Jewish is this man?” Did she want to be with someone so religious? The answers weren’t clear, but she was already deeply in love. Within months they were living together.
From the start, Lang was wary not only of Philippe’s commitment to his religion but also his devotion to Israel. They remained at odds over how to observe their religion, Lang feeling stifled by orthodoxy. Even after marrying and having children, they continually negotiated about where they should live and raise their family– America, Israel, or France—Lang reluctant to remain in an unstable region where the threat of violence was omnipresent.
A formally creative and deeply lyrical memoir in miniature, Places We Left Behind is a jewel-box of a book about the nature of faith, love, home, compromise, and what it takes for two people to make a life together. When it was published—nearly 35 years after Lang stood above the Wailing Wall wishing for “no more violence, no more war, no more Israel Defense Forces”—her deepest fears were realized in the most horrific and unimaginable way when, on October 7 Hamas attacked Israel. Her memoir is truly, and tragically, a book for its time.
While reading Jennifer Lang’s exquisite memoir, I thought of broken mirror shards that exactly, yet only partially, reflect an image, yet do so from all angles. And so, too, the author presents brilliant glimpses from many perspectives, that when put together, make a whole.
The author’s intent initially pours forth with simplicity. She’s a young American Jew who moves to Israel and falls in love with a sexy French Jew. He wants to remain in Israel, she wants to live in the US, at least for a time. From there the author and her new husband begin a globe-moving life that’s based on the push and pull of who they are, what they want — or think they want — and the deals they make to appease one another, all while having three kids and pursuing their passions.
All of this is told through flash essays that combine text with graphics, poetry, checklists, strikethroughs and footnotes. Rather than fall prey to gimmick, however, the unusual formats are integral for portraying the surrealistic feeling of relocating to a foreign country, returning to a native land and negotiating the sometimes tumultuous waters of two people who love one another deeply, yet are pulled toward different places.
Literary, elucidating and utterly lovely, the author leads us to a glimmering moment of enlightenment in which she realizes if she’s true to herself, where she lives is no longer what’s most important.
In Places We Left Behind: a-memoir-in-miniature, Jennifer Lang powerfully reveals a woman’s struggle to make peace in one of the most conflicted regions of the world. The ups-and-downs of her multilingual, multicultural, multinational marriage backdrop a tug-of-war between the California-born Lang and her husband, Philippe, raised in France. The two are deeply in love, and both are Jewish, but that’s where the similarities stop. Philippe gravitates toward Orthodoxy and wants to make Israel the family’s home. Jennifer, secular, Reform, atheist, is more at home on her Yoga mat and dreams of a day when the Israeli Defense Forces no longer exists. How will this marriage survive amid the volatility of a region in crisis? What will Lang concede in order to keep her family intact? The personal is irretrievably political in this debut memoir where the author’s voice is as inventive as her experimental form, delivered in artfully composed compressed prose. As a mother, wife, and foremost an individual searching for her own meaningful life, Lang offers an important perspective on one woman’s quest to be true to her heart while making the compromises maturity demands of all adults. She reveals a faith that transcends organized religion and is lived out in the everyday moments of a family surviving, then thriving in the disparate places they call home. Recommend highly.
How do very different people grow together into families?
I loved this memoir of negotiating boundaries and nurturing identity and interests while growing a family. Even though Jennifer Lang and her husband are both Jewish, they are observant in different ways. If that wasn’t challenging enough, each considers a different part of the world home.
Lang and her husband become each other’s only constant in a bewildering number of moves between countries. I appreciated seeing glimpses of different cultures through Lang’s perspective, and gaining a deeper understanding of how a marriage can be loving and stable despite the odds.
This is a great book if you are looking for a thought-provoking but quick read. I’ve recommended the unique formatting and pace of this memoir to several friends: vivid, brief glimpses into a relationship of twenty years. Each vignette is no longer than a page and is reminiscent of a photo album, lovingly captioned.
This book spoke to me because I have negotiated who I am in every relationship. I’m queer, unmarried, Jewish, but non-observant. I’ve made different life choices than Lang, but I found wisdom and guidance in her story of lifelong love and respectful negotiation to protect her own identity.
The Places We Left Behind is a love story that begins in 1989 during the First Intifada in Israel between the author—an American tourist and secular Jew—and a French, religiously observant immigrant. In 1990, during the first Gulf War, they marry, windows covered with plastic sheeting, Scud missiles dropping and sirens shrieking. They unwrap their wedding gifts in Haifa (his chosen home): his-and-hers gas masks, courtesy of the Israeli government, along with the more typical crystal vases and ceramic serving dishes.
While terrifying, beginning marriage, then a family, in a war zone isn’t the conflict at the core of Lang’s memoir. Rather, these conflicts include the couple’s differing religious practices, where to live and find peace of mind, and the narrator’s need to reclaim her eroded identity. All of this manifests in the couple’s rootlessness, as they move from Israel to Paris, California to New York, back to Israel, back to New York, before making Israel their home. Altogether, it’s a twenty-year journey fraught with anger and frustration, but also mutual compromise and commitment to marriage and family.
"A memoir-in-miniature" says the front cover, the words hovering over a cardboard box, its flaps raised, inviting me to unpack it. Written on the side of the box is the author's name, leaving me in no doubt about the contents within.
But I'm wrong, not about the overall goal of this book but about the way it's presented. The chapters are short, flash-fiction style, and all the words have been chosen with care and precision, clearly requiring several rewrites. And not only that. The formatting is also special. There are words crossed out, tables and diagrams, short lines, indented lines, framed lines, columns, blank spaces.
I have to admit that, as a person who struggles with visual clues, I don't always understand the reasons for all these unusual formats. But I'm certain there are reasons as I read the book, and even more so at the end when I read the book-club-type questions. "What do you think is the difference between her [Jennifer's] use of strikethroughs vs parentheses?" For me, the answer doesn't matter; what's important is that reasons exist, proving that everything in this book was carefully thought out.
And yet, none of this interfered with my enjoyment of the memoir, my wish to discover how the story would continue and end. I wasn't disappointed.
I love experimental forms, so I was hooked the minute I saw the flow chart at the beginning of the book. Similarly exciting to me, was the chapter “Between Seams,” which is written in the form of a poem, the lines mimicking the cracks in the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem, where Jews push slips of paper into the cracks with their prayers written on them. In this way Lang is using the form as an active element of her narrative. Similarly, in her chapter entitled “Distort,” her enjambed lines give the feeling of distortion, allowing the reader one step closer to the writer’s interior.
Lang uses lists, diagrams, strike-through font, and footnotes in her as her collection alternates between micro-essays and poetry, keeping me engaged and slightly off-balance. But although her essays are brief, they are vibrant, containing enough physical description so that I could picture her homes in the various locations, and with lyrical description of the narrator’s interior, such as, “The next day, while packing, we fold our anger into the creases of our shirts and tuck it into the hems of our pants, making our suitcases overweight.”
I read Jennifer Lang's memoir in miniature in one sitting--actually one lying down, as I read it before I got out of bed in the morning. It's that good, that compelling. Her unconventional form of very short chapters/vignettes appealed to me for a number of reasons, including the fact that sometimes delving into long, winding chapters requires more attention than I can muster, and it made me consider whether this is a style I may want to use more of in my own writing.
Beyond the enticing format, Jennifer tells a story of navigating a marriage characterized by a love that's abiding yet not always easy for a number of reasons, not the least of which is conflicting opinions about religious practice and where in the world they should call home. In Lang's sure hands, we are never deeply worried about their future, though neither does she hold back in describing their many differences.
This book educated, entertained, and left me hopeful that two people who love each other and have built a family can indeed find a way through.
It didn't take long to read Jennifer Lang's "memoir in miniature," maybe an hour or so, but it was one of the best reading hours I've ever spent in quite a while. I loved her map through a long-term marriage told in stories of the places she's lived and the choices she and her husband have made, trying to balance the spiritual, cultural, emotional and creative needs of each partner as well as those of their children. Her skillful and perceptive writing renders each of the places she's called home as characters in and of themselves. I loved the form and I loved the writing. This is a unique rendition of the beautifully messy balancing act that makes a family, and even though it takes place on three continents, I found it so relatable. This is a book that invites a second reading, and maybe even a third.
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
I received an advance copy in exchange for this voluntary review
I've read Places We Left Behind twice, and some chapters multiple times. The brevity of the vignettes was not just a restful and welcome change to my usual reading experience, it made me approach the content with an openness and curiosity--which then proceeded to blow my mind. Look at how much emotional resonance the author packs into so a few lines! How expertly she illustrates themes of love, identity, compromise, anxiety, rootlessness vs. home in brief and vivid scenes! I found myself riveted by the tension between the narrator and her husband--tension so taught I could imagine plucking it, and then in the next moment awed by their determination to make their relationship work despite intractable differences. This memoir is about many things, but it is first and foremost a love story -- equally for one's beshert as for one's self. I recommend it without reservation.
From a Facebook group, this book was suggested as a love story. I read the 147- page small book in one hour since it is written in concise vignettes. I needed a break from all of the genres that I had been reading so I was ready for a good love story, but unfortunately, this is not what I would call a love story (although it is a love story because the author and her husband stay together out of love for many years and do not divorce even with all of their differences.)
There were no deep inner thoughts or feelings about her family, children, parents, friends, or life. The Author did not discuss her inner conflict and identity deeply except that she identified as someone who likes and needs to do yoga. There was no description of life in Israel. It was very basic.
But it was a quick easy read.
Even though I would not recommend this book to my book group, there are some great discussion questions at the end of the book.
What a great read! Ms. Lang cleverly interweaves the story of an intercultural marriage and her family's migration across three continents, with all its complications - the negotiations within the marriage, the uprooting and rerooting, and the existential anxieties that are part and parcel of living in Israel, her current home. An ex-pat myself, this author's experiences ring true to me. That said, I feel sure Places We Left Behind could appeal to a wide audience. While her life story is highly unusual, her triumphs and travails will strike a familiar chord with almost anyone. What especially impressed me about this book is the author's innovative style. When's the last time you read a book where the author's thoughts are recorded on the page and crossed out, as if to remind us that she's still trying to figure life out? And who isn't? This book is a must read!
I love her book cover so much. Even more I love her courageous sidestep into shorthand, another language, really. Coordinates to emphasize two polar opposite worlds, opposite sides of the world? A flow chart that is NOT linear and whose most important element is which transition was for P and which for herself, because then she can quantify exactly how much and when she made choices for another versus choices for herself. We see it, too. Oh, she’s taking care of herself. Oh, she’s pleasing her boyfriend. All women, especially, do that dance of self-sacrifice, self-care. So universal, and all in a flow chart! And oh my goodness–including strikeouts to show ambivalence and the ever changing fluidity of meaning? Brilliant. Wow. So brave. Jennifer Lang blew yourself out of the water, and us along with her. Brilliant.
I read this elegant, beautiful and creative memoir in one sitting, and have since returned to it, to savor and ponder and enjoy. This is a a growing up memoir, a discovering oneself tale , a finding home journey, and all along, perhaps most of all, it is a love story, a love story of a resilient, unusual marriage, that traverses many countries and cities. Though I have lived in the same home for over 20 years, I found so many universal insights and epiphanies in Jennifer's unique story. The writing is beautiful as the design of the book, and its short vignettes, slivers of conversation, definitions, charts. What an extraordinary book. I rooted for Jennifer and her husband (you will too!) , and I find myself eagerly wanting to read whatever she writes next.