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Daily Maverick
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Daily Maverick
Women's prize for fiction 2025: Six experts review the shortlisted novels
There are stories about family, sex, history, death and fundamentalism. From a longlist of 16, six novels have been shortlisted for the 2025 Women's prize for fiction. Our experts review the finalists (the announcement of the winner will be today, on 12 June 2025). The Safekeep by Yael van der Wouden The Safekeep, a novel about the expropriation and theft of Jewish property during and after the second world war, revisits a dark chapter of Dutch history. When Holland fell to Nazi Germany, many Dutch Jews were deported to the death camps and were stripped of their homes and belongings. Van der Wouden's debut novel shines alight on the act of keeping or maintaining things left behind that were to be reclaimed by their rightful owners, but which were lost or stolen in the war. The trauma of this history hangs over the lives of three siblings grieving the loss of their mother in 1961. Isabel, the novel's lonely protagonist, lives alone in the family house, keeping it in order as her late mother would have wanted. All the while she suspects that their maid is stealing from the kitchen. But following the arrival of her brother's girlfriend, Eva, Isabel discovers the truth of the house and attempts to right historical wrongs. By Manjeet Ridon, Associate Dean International, Arts, Design and Humanities Good Girl by Aria Aber Aria Aber's debut is a frequently poetic and powerful künstlerroman (a novel that maps the development of an artist). It follows Nila, a young Afghan woman in Berlin, as she tries to escape from her own cultural heritage and that of the German city in which she lives. For much of the novel, Nila moves through the margins of society, from her family home in a brutalist rundown apartment block in the neighbourhood of Neukölln to a seemingly endless cycle of underground clubs, parties and festivals. She pushes away her family, her childhood friends, and her college education to pursue an alternative creative life and a destructive love affair. Ultimately though, Nila realises that her artistic work and a truly independent life can only be forged through her reconciliation with the past. Set against the real far-right violence of the 2000s, Aber makes clear how social inequalities and racial prejudices effect artistic access and creativity. She also acutely captures the tensions between freedom and tradition as experienced by bicultural Muslim women grappling with the expectation to be 'good girls'. All Fours by Miranda July 'Everyone thinks doggy style is so vulnerable,' remarks one of the characters in Miranda July's latest work of fiction. This story takes sexuality as its subject along with its relationship with creativity and ageing – or more specifically, the midlife plunge from a cliff that is female menopause. Like the author, July's nameless protagonist is 45, a successful artist, and married with a non-binary child. This auto-fiction puts the author's erotic nonconformity at the centre of the frame. Our heroine embarks on a road-trip to New York, but only 20 minutes from her home she falls in love with a young man. The pair spend two weeks together in a motel pursuing a mutual obsession, which ultimately remains unconsummated. This experience upends her life and she rebounds into turbulent adventures in sex, discovering a new sense of self. Perhaps it could have been a little tighter than its 322 pages – but then again, it's a work that explores a capacious road to excess. All Fours is a funny, honest, rambunctious tale Elizabeth Kuti, Professor in the Department of Literature Film and Theatre Studies The Persians by Sanam Mahloudji 'Do they think we were just some refugees?' Shirin, one of the characters in The Persians, asks her niece Bita. 'Weren't we?' Bita replies. The question of what a refugee looks like and what kind of stories they are expected to tell is a central theme in Mahloudji's raucous, poignant novel. The story shifts back and forward in time, from Tehran in the 1940s to Los Angeles in the Reagan years, and to both America and Iran in the 2000s, interweaving the voices of five women from the wealthy and powerful Valiat family. Mahloudji explores love, miscommunication, loyalties and betrayal across generations as well as between those who left and those who stayed behind. Jewellery is a central theme in the novel: glistening in shops, hidden in suitcases or flung away in protest. It represents both the adornment of female identity and the weight of the history that the migrants carry with them. Alexandra Peat, Lecturer in English and Director of the MA in Literature and Publishing Tell Me Everything by Elizabeth Strout Tell Me Everything is the tenth novel in Elizabeth Strout's well-known series that sketches the lives of ordinary, yet complex characters, who enter and exit each other's lives in the nowhere town of Crosby, Maine. The three main figures in this latest instalment are 90-year-old retired schoolteacher Olive Kitteridge (recognisable from Frances McDormand's realisation in the award-winning TV series by the same name), middle age fiction writer Lucy Barton, and 65-year-old lawyer Bob Burgess. Loosely, this novel can be described as a murder mystery, though the plot twist of an alleged matricide, and Burgess's decision to defend the case, are secondary to the three main characters' process of sharing previously untold accounts of forbidden, traumatic, guilty and unrequited love. It is this telling and memorialising that produces the emotional core of the novel. If sharing their past gives the ageing storytellers some respite from the burden of their hidden lives, it is not in the kind that comforts with meaning and purpose. In Strout's novel, this relief is unavailable and is replaced with the more ephemeral solace of simply being heard. Fundamentally by Nussaibah Younis At the heart of Fundamentally is the affinity that forms between narrator Nadia, appointed by the United Nations to rehabilitate 'Isis brides' in Iraq, and one of her subjects, Sara, an east Londoner on the cusp of adulthood. They connect through a shared love of rollerblading, Dairy Milk and X-Men, as well as their caustic sense of humour. But the two British Muslim women have followed vastly different routes – Nadia to academia and the UN and Sara to a detention camp in Ninewah. Nadia's story of her journey through the vagaries of the humanitarian sector, punctuated by flashbacks to her failed relationship with first love Rosy and fraught relationship with her mother, is told with a compelling mix of verve and vulnerability. It raises hard ethical and political questions along the way. But it is Nadia's mission to help Sara that gives the novel its emotional complexity and depth, drawing the reader in while denying us any easy answers. Rehana Ahmed, Reader in Postcolonial and Contemporary Literature. DM This story first appeared in The Conversation. Manjeet Ridon is a Associate Dean International, Arts, Design and Humanities. Éadaoin Agnew is a Senior lecturer in English literature. Elizabeth Kuti is a Professor in the Department of Literature Film and Theatre Studies. Alexandra Peat is a Lecturer in English and Director of the MA in Literature and Publishing. Yianna Liatsos is a Associate Professor in the School of English Irish and Communication. Rehana Ahmed is a Reader in Postcolonial and Contemporary Literature.
Time of India
23-05-2025
- General
- Time of India
Dutch synagogues filled with life 80 years after WWII
The Netherlands celebrated the 80th anniversary of World War II (Image: AP) On May 8, Europe commemorated the 80th anniversary of the end of World War II in Europe, the bloodiest war in the continent's history. Tens of millions of people died, including 6 million Jewish people who were murdered by the Nazis and their collaborators in the Holocaust. Dutch Jews were among the hardest hit. Three quarters of the Netherlands' pre-war Jewish population perished in Auschwitz, Sobibor and other Nazi death camps. Eighty years later, some of the community's shattered synagogues have been restored. Amsterdam's first Jewish community: Sephardic Jews from Spain and Portugal were the first Jewish people to establish themselves in Amsterdam in the early 17th century, settling on the eastern edge of the rapidly expanding city. Many were merchants. Amsterdam's magnificent Portuguese synagogue is an enduring monument to their prosperity. Soon after, poorer Ashkenazi Jews from across eastern Europe began settling nearby in Amsterdam's island districts of Uilenburg and Rapenburg. They mostly eked out a living selling fish, clothing and domestic trinkets. Housing and health conditions were abysmal, but faith and community ties were fierce. by Taboola by Taboola Sponsored Links Sponsored Links Promoted Links Promoted Links You May Like 5 BHK Nature Villas with ₹30K EMI Offer* in Bengaluru Avind Forest Trails Book Now Undo Synagogues lined the streets. Of these, only the Uilenburger synagogue remains. Built in 1766 in the heart of the Jewish district on a lane that no longer exists, it now stands, hidden from sight, behind a brick wall. The Uilenburger synagogue: "This is a beautiful old synagogue, and we try to keep the spirit of the past alive as much as possible and transform it also into a place where people want to come in the 21st century," Maurits Jan Vink, chair of the synagogue's foundation, told DW. From the late 18th century to the 1940s, local Jews gathered in large numbers at the Uilenburger synagogue — up to 600 at a time, according to historical documents. Services were held on the top floor; men prayed in the main section, women on a balcony above. On the bottom floor, chickens were slaughtered, poor people fed and weddings celebrated. "It would have been packed," says Vink. "But this whole area was packed. If you lived here, you lived with 10 people on 35 square meters [377 square feet], and the bathroom was outside." A community ravaged: When the deportation of Dutch Jews began in February 1942, few were more vulnerable than the Jews of Uilenburg and Rapenburg. "You needed money to go into hiding," says Vink. "They didn't have it. On average in the Netherlands, 75 per cent of the Jewish population was killed; here it's 95 per cent. So, almost nobody returned from this community." Those who did return have helped restore the Uilenburger synagogue, turning it into a popular venue for Seder meals, local entrepreneurs, movie shoots, music recitals and Jewish weddings. "People are always very curious, like what is it behind this wall?" says Waheeda Afriat, who helps organize events at the synagogue. "What I often hear is that this place is like a hidden gem." In April, music by two Dutch composers who never returned from the death camps was performed here by pianist Imri Talgam. Menachem Asscher, a rabbi's son and a talented composer, pianist and cellist, was murdered at Auschwitz in July 1942. Leo Smit, who is compared by critics with Stravinsky, was murdered at Sobibor in April 1943. Synagogue on a dike: In Sliedrecht, a town in the south of the country, another little synagogue hides in plain sight. On a sunny day in March, on the weekend of the Jewish holiday Purim, it opened its doors to visitors. "We were just walking by and we noticed somebody by the door, and my girlfriend said, 'well let's take a look,'" a man named Henk told DW. "I've been living here in Sliedrecht for, I think, 56 years, and this is the first time I [have] entered the building," he said. From the outside, Sliedrecht's synagogue is hard to miss. According to its owners, it's the only one in the world built on a dike — a good place to be perched when the nearby Merwede river floods. Sliedrecht's first Jewish families arrived around 1770. Back then, services were held in homes. In 1845, in partnership with the nearby village of Giessendam, a small synagogue was built on the dike, which constituted the boundary between the town and the village. The end of religious services: But the community was small. By 1920, unable to muster the 10 men required to hold services (a minyan), regular services ended, and the synagogue fell into disrepair. Nevertheless, Jewish events continued until 1942, when the deportations began. Hunted down by local Nazis and collaborating Dutch police, Sliedrecht's Jews suffered terribly. By 1945, the interior of the synagogue was in ruins. In the years that followed, it was used by a sack manufacturer, a greengrocer and a carpenter. A new lease of life: In 1989, during a dike reinforcement program, municipal authorities decided the derelict synagogue had to go. Local citizens were aghast and set up a foundation to buy and restore the building. The wooden structure was dismantled into 11 segments and stored in a local warehouse. In 2003, it was reassembled, 80 meters west of its original position on the dike. It was also handsomely refurbished using materials from another synagogue in the region, whose Jewish community had been wiped out. Musical events and guided tours: Re-establishing religious services was, however, another matter. "When we started, we had a service once a month," says Ronald Kitsz, chair of the Sliedrecht dike synagogue foundation. "But a few families went to Amsterdam, a few families went to Israel, and then there were not enough Jewish people anymore." In their absence, the foundation's members (none of them Jewish) began hosting open houses, musical events and guided tours of the synagogue's small museum, including a collection of sacred objects from Sliedrecht's old Jewish community. "It's not just a menorah, or just a prayer book, siddur, or just a tallit," says Ronald Kitsz. "These objects came from Jewish people, whose ancestors lived in Sliedrecht. And that makes it beautiful because every object has its individual story, and we are proud of that."
DW
21-05-2025
- General
- DW
Dutch synagogues filled with life 80 years after WWII – DW – 05/21/2025
Six million Jews perished in World War II. Dutch Jews were among the hardest hit. DW visited two synagogues in the Netherlands to see how they have been resurrected and filled with life 80 years after the war. A few weeks ago, Europe celebrated the 80th anniversary of the end of World War II, the bloodiest war in European history. Twenty million died in the war, six million of them Jews. Dutch Jews were among the hardest hit. Three quarters of the Netherlands' pre-war Jewish population perished in Auschwitz, Sobibor and other Nazi death camps. Eighty years later, some of their shattered synagogues have been resurrected. Amsterdam's first Jewish community Sephardic Jews from Spain and Portugal were the first to establish themselves in Amsterdam in the early 17th century, settling on the eastern edge of the rapidly expanding city. Many were merchants. Amsterdam's magnificent Portuguese synagogue is an enduring monument to their prosperity. When the building was actively used as a synagogue, services were held on the top floor, with men praying in the main section and women on a balcony above Image: David Kattenburg Soon after, poorer Ashkenazi Jews from across eastern Europe began settling nearby in Amsterdam's island districts of Uilenburg and Rapenburg. They eked out a living selling fish, clothing and domestic trinkets. Housing and health conditions were abysmal, but faith and community ties were fierce. Synagogues lined the streets. Of these, only the Uilenburger synagogue remains. Built in 1766 in the heart of the Jewish district on a lane that no longer exists, it now stands, hidden from sight, behind a brick wall. The Uilenburger synagogue "This is a beautiful old synagogue, and we try to keep the spirit of the past alive as much as possible and transform it also into a place where people want to come in the 21st century," Maurits Jan Vink, chair of the synagogue's foundation, told DW. From the late 18th century to the 1940s, local Jews gathered in large numbers at the Uilenburger synagogue — up to 600 at a time, according to historical documents. Services were held on the top floor; men prayed in the main section, women on a balcony above. On the bottom floor, chickens were slaughtered, poor people fed and weddings celebrated. Pianist Imri Talgam performed works by composers Leo Smit and Menachem Asscher to a packed audience in the Uilenburger synagogue in April Image: David Kattenburg "It would have been packed," says Vink. "But this whole area was packed. If you lived here, you lived with 10 people on 35 square meters, and the bathroom was outside." A community ravaged When the deportation of Dutch Jews began in February 1942, none were more vulnerable than the poor Jews of Uilenburg and Rapenburg. "You needed money to go into hiding," says Vink. "They didn't have it. On average in the Netherlands, 75% of the Jewish population was killed; here it's 95%. So, almost nobody returned from this community." Those who did return have helped restore the Uilenburger synagogue, turning it into a popular venue for Seder meals, local entrepreneurs, movie shoots, music recitals and Jewish weddings. "People are always very curious, like what is it behind this wall?" says Waheeda Afriat, who helps organize events at the synagogue. "What I often hear is that this place is like a hidden gem." Inside Europe: Little Synagogues in the Netherlands To play this audio please enable JavaScript, and consider upgrading to a web browser that supports HTML5 audio In April, music by two Dutch composers who never returned from the death camps was performed here by pianist Imri Talgam . Menachem Asscher, a rabbi's son and a talented composer, pianist and cellist, was gassed in Auschwitz in July 1942. Leo Smit, who is compared by critics with Stravinsky, was gassed at Sobibor in April 1943. Synagogue on a dike In Sliedrecht, a town in the south of the country, another little synagogue hides in plain sight. On a sunny day in March, on the weekend of the Jewish holiday Purim, it opened its doors to visitors. "We were just walking by and we noticed somebody by the door, and my girlfriend said, well let's take a look," a man named Henk told DW. "I've been living here in Sliedrecht for, I think, 56 years, and this is the first time I entered the building," he said. From the outside, Sliedrecht's synagogue is hard to miss. According to its owners, it's the only one in the world built on a dike — a good place to be perched when the nearby Merwede river floods. Sliedrecht's first Jewish families arrived around 1770. Back then, services were held in homes. In 1845, in partnership with the nearby village of Giessendam, a small synagogue was built on the dike, which constituted the boundary between the town and the village. The end of religious services But the community was small. By 1920, unable to muster the ten men required to hold services (a minyan), regular services ended, and the synagogue fell into disrepair. Nevertheless, Jewish events continued until 1942, when the deportations began. Hunted down by local Nazis and collaborating Dutch police, Sliedrecht's Jews suffered terribly. The synagogue in Sliedrecht is the only one in the world built on a dike Image: David Kattenburg By 1945, the interior of the synagogue was in ruins. In the years that followed, it was used by a sack manufacturer, a green grocer and a carpenter. A new lease of life In 1989, during a dike reinforcement program, municipal authorities decided the derelict synagogue had to go. Local citizens were aghast and set up a foundation to buy and restore the building. The wooden structure was dismantled into eleven segments and stored in a local warehouse. In 2003, it was reassembled, 80 meters west of its original position on the dike. It was also handsomely refurbished using materials from another synagogue in the region, whose Jewish community had been wiped out. Musical events and guided tours Re-establishing religious services was, however, another matter. Ronald Kitsz, chair of the Sliedrecht dike synagogue foundation, says that the objects in the synagogue's museum came from Jewish people whose ancestors lived in Sliedrecht Image: David Kattenburg "When we started, we had a service once a month," says Ronald Kitsz, chair of the Sliedrecht dike synagogue foundation. "But a few families went to Amsterdam, a few families went to Israel, and then there were not enough Jewish people anymore." In their absence, the foundation's members (none of them Jewish) began hosting open houses, musical events and guided tours of the synagogue's small museum, including a collection of sacred objects from Sliedrecht's old Jewish community. "It's not just a menorah, or just a prayer book, siddur, or just a tallit," says Ronald Kitsz. "These objects came from Jewish people, whose ancestors lived in Sliedrecht. And that makes it beautiful because every object has its individual story, and we are proud of that." Edited by: Aingeal Flanagan
