The Berlin vis­i­tor pro­gram began in 1969. To date, more than 15,000 for­mer Berlin­ers, most­ly Jew­ish, plus an equal num­ber of fam­i­ly mem­bers, have been invit­ed back at Ger­man tax­pay­er expense. The Berlin Wall fell in 1989 and the USSR col­lapsed in 1991. Berlin Can­ta­ta, Jef­frey Lewis’s nov­el set after these events, is a lyri­cal, inter­wo­ven com­po­si­tion of thir­teen voic­es: Jews, non-Jews, sur­vivors, descen­dants, Nazis and Com­mu­nists, and res­i­dents of the ​“new” Berlin. Each mem­ber of this ​“choir” has a tale to tell, a jour­ney to relive, and a chal­lenge to con­tin­ue a viable life.

Hol­ly Anholt, Amer­i­can born, accom­pa­nied her moth­er Dorothy on her return vis­it to Berlin. Dorothy tells us right off that she, a sur­vivor, is ashamed. But, she says, ​“I am ashamed of what I am ashamed of.” Upon her mother’s death, a Ger­man prop­er­ty claim and a small frag­ment of film inspire Holly’s own return to Berlin. They become the engines that pro­pel the plot, and the mech­a­nism through which we meet the play­ers. We read of secrets kept, deals exe­cut­ed, mys­ter­ies uncov­ered, impos­si­ble love, and, always, loss.

With out­stand­ing craft Jef­frey Lewis exam­ines the polit­i­cal sen­ti­ments, and every pos­si­ble, prob­a­ble, and wrench­ing emo­tion we might imag­ine. The nov­el begs to be read more than once, to savor every nuance of expres­sion, inner con­flict, and resolution.