“Adorable” isn’t quite the description most people would give to a 38-year-old man and prize-winning author of three books. But that appeared to be the consensus of an audience of about fifty listening to Peter Manseau discussing his novel, Songs for the Butcher’s Daughter, recently at Keneseth Israel in Elkins Park.
“I’m a bit of a novelty act on the Jewish book circuit,” said the son of a nun and a Catholic priest. Which would actually make him a novelty act on any sort of circuit. He says his stock also includes French Canadian and Irish ingredients. He’s personable and grins even more impishly in three dimensions than the photo on his book jackets would suggest.
His novel – the previous books were non-fiction – is many things, though essentially a love story. It’s also a tale of immigration - out of pre-1917 Russian pogroms and into early 20th century sweatshops and automats of New York City. Perhaps the loudest theme is the role of Yiddish – or perhaps any at-risk language – in identity and community.
The tale is spun by two narrators, a Catholic youth and a Yiddish poet. The authentic voice of the former sometimes fools the reader into needing periodic reality checks, while the historical fantasy of the latter expertly marinates the main dish.
Manseau was invited to Elkins Park by Ellen Sklaroff, retired instructor at Arcadia and educator in Cheltenham School District. The avid reader had been scouting for books to recommend to her book group, and was funneled to him by Amazon, based on her previous affinity for Junot Diaz and Nathan Englander. Intrigued, she shot him an email. He replied.
Sklaroff’s book group promptly received an early save-the-date and get-the-book notice, along with a dinner invitation to greet the author at her home.
A relatively new member of the Board at Keneseth Israel who serves on their Adult Education and Library Committees, Sklaroff arranged Manseau’s speaking engagement there.
The author subsequently accepted a speaking session with graduate students and faculty at the University of Pennsylvania for earlier in the day. He resides in D.C. with his wife – an international trade attorney – and two young daughters. Manseau occasionally teaches journalism at Georgetown and occasionally takes time from his preferred commercial book life to work on his Ph.D. dissertation in religious studies.
“The novel stirred something in me,” said Sklaroff, who has also read Vows, Manseau’s biography of his parents. “We’re used to thinking of Jews as the outsiders. It’s remarkable to have such a knowledgeable outsider provide such learned perspective.”
Manseau spent a number of years working at the National Yiddish Book Center in Massachusetts, where he thinks he was hired not because he’d graduated U Mass as a religion major, but rather because he could drive a diesel truck. “It was never a simple affair collecting Yiddish books from homes,” he explained. “A face would suddenly appear saying, ‘You look hungry. Sit, have some tea and kugel. My granddaughter will be here soon.’ ”
Manseau has studied Hebrew, Yiddish, Latin and Greek. He has read more Yiddish literature than most members of his audiences. When he speaks about tradition and transgression, he observes that the most effective transgressors are those whose actions are derived from and laden with tradition.
He also speaks about the transformative power of translation and the meaning and implications of the concept of bashert (destiny, fate).
Sklaroff was delighted, if a little surprised, that Manseau turned out to be so engaging and entertaining. “We’re lucky to have gotten him at this stage in his career. He has the capacity to become a very important person.”
