Reminiscent of Tea Obreht, Nicole Krauss and Maggie O’Farrell, Ruth Gilligan allows three intertwining voices, spanning the 20th century, to tell the unknown story of the Jews in Ireland. It is a traumatic portrait of what it means to belong, and how storytelling can redeem us. 1901. Cork can sound very similar to New York to foreign ears and tired brains, so it’s no surprise that Ruth’s family – Jewish refugees fleeing the European pogroms – mistakenly disembark from their boat to America a few stops and a few countries too soon. Still, her father can spin a story like pure silk, so surely Ireland’s just a layover until he writes his great play and they can continue their journey west. This gorgeous and inventive novel is about putting down roots in unfamiliar soil; about falling in love so deep that it is impossible to climb back out again; and about how tradition and tales are born, nurtured and handed from one generation to the next. Sometimes funny, sometimes frustrating, sometimes devastating, it is a rich and layered story of the complications, the mistakes and the heartbreaks of which a human life is made...