The Jewel Trader of Pegu

To call Jeffrey Hantover’s fine new (and first) novel, The Jewel Trader of Pegu (Morrow $21.95) a historical romance, though it is that, too, is to under value the majesty of his story. This work not only explores life in both Venice, and the capital city of the Mon people, Pegu, located in southern Burma, but also wrestles with the larger issues of our existence. You know, like love, war, and peace.

Written in an epistolary style, Abraham is the eponymous jewel trader. Both orphaned and widowed, he takes the long journey in 1599 from the Venetian ghetto to faraway Pegu at the behest of his adoptive Uncle in order to obtain fine jewels from the Asian continent. He plans to be away only for one year, and then return to his known world of post-Renaissance Italy. He partners with the wise native, Win, and proceeds to accomplish his mission. Once in place, he discovers that it is expected by the Peguan families that their betrothed daughters will sleep with foreign men on the night before the nuptials so as to ensure a blessed marriage.. Abraham struggles as an Orthodox Jew with the idea that he is committing adultery and his own desire to serve his uncle well. Abraham bows to the wishes of the Peguan community, but ultimately he falls in love with one of these girls, Mya, whose husband has died on their wedding night. In his love for her, Abraham finds redemption, liberation and himself.

Beyond the love story itself, there is the political backdrop. Pegu at this time is ruled by a cruel and corrupt King, who as the year passes, makes more and more enemies. Revolt is in the air, and the status of the foreign traders becomes more and more precarious. And then there is also the cultural conflict as Abraham confronts manners and mores that he does not understand, especially with the ideas of Buddhism and stories of the Buddha himself.

Pegu is a real place, now called Baku, and is about 70 miles from Rangoon. At the time of the story it was known for its beauty. It was an important trading center, receiving foreign guests from China, Central Asia as well as Europe. One of Hantover’s achievements is to imagine this place, with all its exotica, well, and make Pegu yet another character.

Librarians can get so competitive

Thanks to Carl for this!

And do look at our you-tube list in the sidebar. They are all literary in content.

The Girl Who Stopped Swimming

Fran and I got the most amazing present over at the day job! Our long time devotion to Joshilyn, and all things Joshilyn, our Peach!, well she sent us a postcard quilt. Oh not just any. No, but by a very famous and wonderful artist. Can't you just hear the Squeeeees! from where you are? Here is The Seamstress. That is what Joshilyn sent us today. As booksellers, we were very well rewarded.

One Big Union

Honk! to Adam!



thanks Crooks and Liars!

Happy Birthday Walter!

Today's Writer's Almanac tipped me off today is Walter Mosley's birthday.


Here's an interview from 1994. And here's a conversation with Howard Zinn this past July.

Randy Newman tells the Truth!

Why I've always loved me some Randy Newman! And, if this picture doesn't tell you why we need to do something right in Africa, well, nothing will. We Want Peace

Arthur Conan Doyle wanted to be remembered for more than Sherlock Holmes. Too bad for him.

JEREMY McCARTER just doesn't get it.

This review reminded me of the one-short story piece I attempted. I sent it off to Stuart McLean.

Dec 1st, we were snowed in and unable to attend the first showing of Vinyl Cafe in America. DAMMIT! Our one holiday extravagance.

We had a lovely night dancing anyway.

It was a slow afternoon at the bookstore and I was by myself while my co-workers were out getting their lunches. A young man entered the shop, quickly tucking a small beanie-baby sort of toy into his pocket.
When I asked if he was after something particular, he said “No, just browsing.” After a circle of the shelves he came back to the front desk and asked if we had any Sherlock Holmes stories. Relieved that it wasn’t the usual lame, jokey or idiotic questions one can get asked in a Mystery Bookstore, I took him to the Sherlockian section. He said he wanted the complete stories, so I recommended the Doubleday hardcover or the Bantam paperbacks in two volumes. He shook his head “No, I want the true stories, the cases Holmes actually solved.” I realized the level of his sincerity and slowly, carefully told him that “Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson were fictional creations of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, later in life, Doyle became interested in para-normal occurrences and spiritualism, and this book is a study of the ‘true’ things Doyle investigated.” His shoulders slumped and something seemed to go out of him. “Have you ever had one of those days when everything you thought was true turns out to be wrong?” he asked me with the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen on a seventeen year old. “Yes” I said, “Yes I have.”
He looked away a moment, then tried to straighten up. “Want to see something cute?”
“Okay” I said as he pulled the stuffed toy kitten out of his pocket and faced it towards me. “Yes, that is very cute” I said, as I realized the kitten had the same sad eyes as the young man in front of me.
“Okay, thanks” he said as he turned to leave. “Are you going to be okay, honey?” I asked desperately wishing I could hug him. “Yeah” he replied over world- weary shoulders. “You take care of yourself” I called after him.
I don’t know what else was not true for that young man and I don’t know what made him so sad. But for a moment I stood and looked out the window and for the first time in my life I really, really wished Sherlock Holmes was real.





I'm also reminded of a lovely visit with Leslie Klinger, who told of a die-hard fan, she was going to have herself hyp-mo-tizd, so she could re-read Sherlock, his annotated version, for the first time, again.