“Captivity is a complex and fast-paced tale of Jewish life in the early first century, a sort of sword-and-sandals saga as reimagined by Henry Roth. The narrative follows Uri from Rome to Jerusalem and back, from prospectless dreamer to political operative to pogrom survivor—who along the way also happens to dine with Herod Antipas and Pontius Pilate and get thrown into a cell with a certain Galilean rabble-rouser. Hungarian György Spiró’s deft combination of philosophical inquiry and page-turning brio should overcome that oft-mentioned American timidity toward books in translation.”
—The Wall Street Journal, Best Books of 2015
“‘BEN HUR,’ BUT BIGGER AND BETTER. Hungarian writer György Spiró’s newly translated novel Captivity powerfully sets the perils of modern Jewry in Early Christian Rome . . . Captivity [is] a sprawling (more than 800 pages), picturesque, old-fashioned historical novel about the Roman Empire, in the showy tradition of Ben Hur and I, Claudius. In fact, both Jesus and Claudius, the main characters of those books, make cameo appearances in Captivity, as do other boldface names of the 1st century CE, including Caligula, Pontius Pilate, and Philo of Alexandria. What sets Captivity apart is that it makes the rare attempt to view all these historical phenomena—from the rise of Christianity to the flamboyant vices of the emperors—through a distinctively Jewish lens . . . Where Spiró excels is dramatizing the world through which Uri moves—its political institutions and social arrangements, its sights and smells . . . a complex and thoughtful portrait of what Judaism meant in ancient Rome . . . Captivity draws you in with its pageant of the classical world, but by the end it also turns out to be a profound meditation on what Judaism meant, and means.”
—Adam Kirsch, Tablet
“With the novel Captivity, Spiró proves that he is well-versed in both historical and human knowledge. It appears that in our times, it is playfulness that is expected of literary works, rather than the portrayal of realistic questions and conflicts. As if the two, playfulness and seriousness were inconsistent with each other! On the contrary (at least for me) playfulness begins with seriousness. Literature is a serious game. So is Spiró’s novel."
—Imre Kertész, Nobel Prize–winning author of Fatelessness
“This remarkable novel, recently translated from the Hungarian, is as close as we are likely to get to a real feel for how it was to live in the first century CE . . . Spiró’s artistic agility shines in his recreation of the world through which Uri moves . . . Spiró has absorbed an awesome amount of information to create his ancient tableaux. He demonstrates a mastery of everything from the silk trade to the workings of ancient economies . . . The strength of the book is in its unheroic, unillusioned depiction of ancient life . . . if you are curious about the ancient world, if you wish to get a “finger-feel” for what it was like to live there, and to think about the forces that shaped the rise of Christianity, Captivity is well worth your time. Here is a faithful, fantastically informed, and extravagantly detailed picture of one of the most turbulent and consequential moments in human history.”
—David Wolpe, Los Angeles Review of Books
“Uri, the hero of Spiró's enormous novel, is a Jewish Candide, although the scope of his exploits suggests more of a naive Don Quixote type.… Deliberate, evocative and richly detailed. Spiró's elaborate style reflects Uri's acute observation, with the hint of a wink at the reader.… Spiró, a Hungarian man of letters, juxtaposes the prosaic and the significant with aplomb and offers a cheeky, unique view of history through the eyes of his modest everyman. A thoroughly impressive literary feat.”
—Publishers Weekly (lead starred review)
“A visceral new form of epic history. Here mountains of trivia form vivid landscapes and academic minutiae open windows into the soul of a forgotten age. It is a work of fiction, though, and it is hilarious . . . Spiró’s serious accomplishment is to challenge the chilling observation, popularly attributed to Stalin, that 'one death is a tragedy and one million deaths a statistic' by breathing life into the neglected statistics of a magnificent—and terrifying, brutal—age . . . An intently philosophical book . . . Captivity expresses historical ideas authentically . . . the real power of Captivity is the ability the extensive historical detail lends the reader to inhabit and empathize with ancient life. It is difficult to imagine a more entertaining way to realize so much data, and it is wonderful that Spiró has managed such an accomplishment. His technique is a welcome innovation for historical fiction in general, and perhaps the drollest scholarly introduction to the first century yet.”
—Jewish Book Council
“Brilliant, picaresque novel of Jewish life in the first century, a bestseller and prizewinner in Spiró’s native Hungary . . . There are two great impulses at work in Spiró’s yarn, the first being a comprehensive sociology of Roman Jewry, the second a grand, seriocomic novel of ideas. Uri, overcoming obstacles and a flaw of birth, makes for a Joseph Campbell–worthy epic hero . . . there’s a lot packed into these pages, including an engagingly complicated portrait of Roman-Jewish relations in the early empire ('We loathe, absolutely loathe your kind, but not to the extent that we too will perish'), a rambunctious tour of ancient philosophies (including a hilarious semi-Mishnaic defense of prostitution), and no end of plain, good shaggy dog humor. A winning and thoughtful entertainment, somewhere between Lives of the Caesars and The Tin Drum.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“[One of] the fifty best independent press books of 2015 . . . There is no shortage of Hungarian masters writing enormous novels—Krasznahorkai and Nádas immediately come to mind—but Spiró’s epic road novel stands on its own. A picaresque that doubles as a kind of Jewish history, it’s remarkably still a page-turner.”
—Flavorwire
11/15/2015
If you ever wondered how Jews spent their lives in the Roman Empire, about the family relations, the household furnishings, the food they ate, their relationships with their neighbors, their practice of religion, and how they fit into the larger society around them in the city of Rome, this is the book for you. Spiró (Tavaszi tárlat, "Spring Exhibition"), a Hungarian novelist, translator, and dramatist, has compiled a detailed fictional chronicle of the life of Uri, a young Jew living during the era of the Julio-Claudian dynasty. His numerous physical disabilities, including bad vision and untrustworthy limbs, are enough to make the reader wonder how the author could fashion a credible hero out of him. But Uri is chosen to undertake a journey to Jerusalem in what is billed as a "riotous road novel." Uri's adventures are so detailed that they seem to unfold in real time, yet the prose is lively and the humor abundant. Wilkinson ably serves this immense work with his seamless translation. VERDICT Of particular appeal for readers of Jewish culture and history, this novel is also recommended for anyone who enjoys an engrossing historical saga seemingly without end. [Wilkinson, who quit the pharmaceutical business to translate Hungarian full time, is the primary translator of Hungarian Nobel Prize winner Imre Kertész.—Ed.]—Edward B. Cone, New York
2015-08-17
Brilliant, picaresque novel of Jewish life in the first century, a bestseller and prizewinner in Spiró's native Hungary. Gaius Theodorus, aka Uriel, aka Uri, is a beloved only son—until, that is, it's revealed that he has trouble seeing, which brings down his father's bewildered wrath. "Because you don't want to see!" cries Joseph, not pausing to allow that though myopic, Uri loves books and stories. It might help to have a cockeyed outlook on the world, though, for in the time of Nero and company, the Roman world is upside down. Joseph dispatches young Uri to Jerusalem with the inventive charge of making his fortune there and bringing honor to a family name that needs a little refurbishing. There are two great impulses at work in Spiró's yarn, the first being a comprehensive sociology of Roman Jewry, the second a grand, seriocomic novel of ideas. Uri, overcoming obstacles and a flaw of birth, makes for a Joseph Campbell-worthy epic hero, though events are always larger than he, and he doesn't always appreciate their significance until well after the fact—as when, for instance, it dawns on him that he shared a cell with a certain soi-disant Messiah. "Your Anointed hero was a man!" Uri tells a zealous convert. "A man! I was jailed with him, saw him from an arm's length away!" The translation is sometimes anachronistic and not quite idiomatic, whether Uri is expressing upset that a philosopher has "ripped off" another's ideas or, chiding his daughters late in life, when he would regularly "tear them off a strip for not getting married." Still, there's a lot packed into these pages, including an engagingly complicated portrait of Roman-Jewish relations in the early empire ("We loathe, absolutely loathe your kind, but not to the extent that we too will perish"), a rambunctious tour of ancient philosophies (including a hilarious semi-Mishnaic defense of prostitution), and no end of plain, good shaggy dog humor. A winning and thoughtful entertainment, somewhere between Lives of the Caesars and The Tin Drum.
