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Linda Shelnutt, May 17, 2008

A Kaleidoscopic Tapestry Seen Through A Glass Darkly. A Rabbi-Blessed-Cane Conjures Red-Votive-Candles

In his novel, THE BATHSHEBA DEADLINE, Jack Engelhard has crisply, brilliantly reflected our deadly world in its ugliest, dirtiest descents. Yet the novel's varied moods shift regularly into a barely perceived, underlying beauty, seeming to refract darkly, through a war-cracked looking-glass. Using a simple, yet subtly-sophisticated syntax, this author voices deeply-rhythm-ed Songs of Israel, back-dropped by the relentless clacking of dedicated Underwoods.

“Phil Crawford was easy to dislike, which is probably why I liked him.... Maybe I didn’t like him all that much, but he was okay. We had our differences, politically.”

I'm not merely impressed, but in awe, of how many threads of vital issues Engelhard has woven and mirrored in BATHSHEBA... right-now politics; media foibles and “facts”; deadly-dangerous, romantic roller-coaster rides; political correctness spotlighted in hypocrisy and lack of glory; spiritual moments dawned in the ebony richness of potential doom...

Yet the weave is not too tight. It allows spaces for contemplation between color contrasts; it allows repetition of subplots to prevent unraveling of wayward strings.

The result is a kaleidoscopic tapestry of an engrossing tale which should be terrifying and depressing by content, yet which gives an incredible amount of hope, because of, rather than in spite of, Jay Garfield's last line, which is as exquisitely honest as it is inevitable. Loved that line, though my favorite line was of political incorrectness gone right, from Jay to Lyla, “Can’t you stop being a girl for a minute?” I wanted to stand up and cheer.

A favorite plot twist was Jay’s Muslim friend’s wife breaking out in compassion to Jay, “Allah be with you.” THEE favorite plot twist was a Muslim acting rightly to save Jay’s bacon, no fuel intended! My favorite exposure was not a Northern one; it was the “going South” of the dark sides of religion and politics, as they enact the power and purpose to sink humanity in one tar glob, into the black holes of anti-life, where falsehoods are sold as truth. (That tar would not be aligned with environmental mania’s attempts to discard industrial waste; it would be the byproduct of philosophical idiocy burned balsamic into goo.)

Every word in this novel, alone and by its placement within phrase, syntax, paragraphing... speaks of literary power, full-on and brilliant. The reader receives those searing spotlights willingly (actually he begins craving them). This reception occurs within a strange type of comfort, within what could ironically be called light entertainment. I see this light touch as essential, since what the author is exposing through Jay is a world, now and through history, which should be irrevocably hopeless.

Engelhard's composing style, and gentle use of constant contrast ("This, but that, too") seem to serve as a continual release of the bondage of powerlessness... a bondage which sometimes arrives from setting in concrete a belief or stand, before the time has come to do so. As Garfield says, a true prophet always knows what time it is. Jay comes to his time at the right moment.

I believe Engelhard could accomplish this release for readers through fiction or through his type of journalism, as he chose. In this wholeness of effect Jack Engelhard has transcended the literary greats (who too often begin and end with nothing beyond eloquently detailed depression).

This transcendence comes through a painting in words of the elemental forms of profanity and powerlessness.

This transcendence comes within a syntactic paradigm of a not overdone, barely-there sense of hope for redemption, a sense of joy in the power of a soul connected to the Height of Good...

(... even if that good is way up there somewhere, barely reachable beyond ozone layers and holes in the Universe, beyond the broadest rainbow... yes it was a HUMAN who stole the ONLY pot of gold... and it wasn't John Galt!)

For me, the most potent segment of this novel is Jay’s journey to, and short stay in Jerusalem, where he sinks into the physically dark, spiritually enduring events and ambiance there. In that pilgrimage, this novel's power explodes and implodes. An uncanny dynamic balance comes to catharsis through a scene in a motel room in the middle of the night:

... the sense of a presence... the shadowed, mirrored image of a tall, thin, bearded man... the gifting, discovery, and working into acceptance of The Blessed Cane.

That scene had the seated feel of being lifted from a lucid dream Engelhard may have had, around which he may have written this book. The actual dream there served as a quantum kernel of hope, seeded within the essence of horror.

The motel room sequence felt like touching a spiritual force, delicately but absolutely, like touching a purity of potency which is not limited to any religion, book, or viewpoint, possibly not to be as easily found in any of those, as through the individual soul of each human being. It was so very appropriate that Jay would touch that through his father's heritage, sharing it from that paradigm. Icons of religious trappings, talismans, and traditions exude a mesmerizing magic. These can be good, as can an un-tethered soul in solitary search.

After contemplating the Jerusalem sequence in the middle of night, I clarified what I saw in connection to this novel, in a puzzling vision of red votive candles, which I had after reading the first part of the book. This novel subtly nurtures a type of hope I felt in my youth, from red-votive-candles flickering in church at night. I felt a clean, quiet sense of rightness to come. As I felt that subtle connection to BATHSHEBA, doubts flared, discounting the feeling and votive candle parallel:

Why would an image from my Catholic past intrude on a novel with Jewish spiritual symbolism (which has always fascinated me). Yes, Garfield's mother was Catholic; his father Jewish. But that joined contrast wasn’t woven into BATHSHEBA’S plot or subplot tapestry...

It was after reading the scene of the Rabbi-Blessed-Cane, that I realized the link of the cane to the candle. I was sparked to visualize those images artistically overlapped in a painting of spirit-in-oils which might do justice to this novel’s holy moment. I couldn't hold the symbols within the same visual, tactual space. They needed to be kept separate to avoid breaking down a reality, a reality which is working both those icons, and more like them, from different spiritual kaleidoscopes. Yet, I wanted to see them together.

I can recreate my vision of the votive flickering... or I can call up Jay's vision of the shadowed presence in the mirror (felt like a rabbi from higher realms), and the cane.

The red-votive flickers gave a welcome memory of my few times as a child going alone to the church at night, sitting in a middle pew on the right, breathing the presence, focusing the candle collections, always lit. Sometimes I would kneel by the candles and pay my coins to the box, then watch the flame I had lit, for a long, peaceful time. I enjoyed being in the church alone at night much more than I enjoyed the Masses with their Holy Words (they were supposed to be holy, were to me then, but I don't quite see some of the meanings that way now) voiced, read, and prayed, among the day's light and crowds.

The above doesn’t begin to hint what this novel draws to consciousness, even on the spiritual tumbles of the kaleidoscopic tapestry of BATHSHEBA. Then there are the political, journalistic, romantic...

Buy and read the book! See how this wealth of global microcosms works into a story of high entertainment, possibly better than any other book you’ve read, with more truth exposed than you’ll know what to do with. Months will go by; you’ll reflect on these scenes and schemes, and you’ll know.

With confidence I say that Jack Engelhard expertly manages the medium of the novel, as he does journalism and op-eds. He is an Nth degree, mastered professional of the effective use of the writer’s voice.

With greatest respect for those among us who walk with words,

Linda Shelnutt

Shelnutt is the author of several Kindle books, including MYRTLE’S ULTIMATE MYSTERY; including The Books of Gem: THE ROSE AND THE PYRAMID, FULL MOON RISING, NEW MOON BLUES, QUARTER MOON DUES; including in Amazon Shorts a serialized novel, MORNING COMES The Pre Dawn Blues (Book 2 in The Books of Gem); including a nonfiction series based off the Gem Books: MOLASSES MOON, and SLIDING DOWN MOON BEAMS; and including a VISCERAL HISTORY (my term) series of short true stories featuring the mining industry in a small town in Colorado.

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