The blurred faces on the book cover’s wed­ding table pho­to­graph rep­re­sent a fam­i­ly in which mis­ery, jeal­ousy, and loathing are the main dynam­ics in play. How this hate­ful fam­i­ly evolved is the sub­ject of Susan Schneider’s riv­et­ing first novel. 

It’s the sto­ry of Mary, a beau­ti­ful Russ­ian girl, who hasti­ly leaves her family’s unhap­py shtetl life and makes her way to Eng­land. There she mar­ries, under ques­tion­able cir­cum­stances, and lat­er con­tin­ues on to Amer­i­ca. Her choic­es and decep­tions, always based on her super­fi­cial beau­ty, lead to a life of tra­vail and regret.

It’s the sto­ry of extend­ed fam­i­lies — moth­ers, fathers, chil­dren, aunts, uncles, cousins, and in-laws — liv­ing shat­tered lives stained with bit­ter rival­ries, per­ceived slights and injus­tices, and nastiness.

And it’s the sto­ry of Sarah, Mary’s nine-year-old grand­daugh­ter, who is try­ing to find her way both through her own world and an adult world shroud­ed in secre­cy, delu­sions, and deceit.

Fire in My Ears is also a nos­tal­gia piece. Any­one who lived through the 1950s TV game shows, Sput­nik scare, school bomb drills, Coney Island, bun­ga­lows in the Rock­aways, the big move to the sub­urbs, etc. will rev­el in the rich­ness of detail. The sto­ry is art­ful­ly spun out as Bub­by Mary, who shares a room with Sarah, explores and nar­rates her past each evening as they lie in bed. Mary is hop­ing to atone for her life of angst and sor­row by res­cu­ing Sarah from the mis­takes of her dys­func­tion­al fam­i­ly. The close­ness and love between grand­moth­er and grand­daugh­ter are appar­ent as Sarah lis­tens silent­ly and with com­pas­sion to Bubby’s life and testimony. 

Schnei­der presents deep insights into love, mar­riage, and rela­tion­ships. The choic­es made by fam­i­lies, even before we are born, so often affect who, why, and what we are.