With Uvi Poznansky, one never expects an ordinary read. Don't believe me: look inside this book. One glance at the chapter titles in "The Music of Us" part of the longer epic "Still Life with Memories," will let you know you are in for a special treat. War Can Wait. Amazing Grace. Silence of the Muse. A Lowdown Groove. Uvi Poznansky takes you questing, every time she writes, into the closets and behind the curtains of your most private mind. This book must be experienced. It fits no genre (thank heavens). It offers no simple axioms that pass for learning. It's a family saga, a book about World War II, a book about music, about a shadow forever to be cast by the war that should have ended all wars -- and it's as much about tomorrow as yesterday. It's full of damage and redemption, pain and joy, brought to life by a narrator who wields words like a scalpel. In an age where books worth reading are rare, where individuality is eschewed for comfy tropes, where books are formulas easily deconstructed into their constituent parts and turned into video games or simpering dramatic serials, comes Uvi, her flaming sword raised high, ready to cut through to the quick or the truth, whichever the reader has brought to their encounter with a real writer.
So I'll call this review the quick and the truth, and hope you readers who actually read every word, and think about what you read, will find this book, this writer, this flickering light in the darkness -- and rejoice.
A story like this once was called a novel, and if there were more than one, connected but with each virtually complete, a cycle. So here's Uvi's cycle. Start anywhere. Start here, with "The Music of Us."