Abomination by Ashley Goldberg
Abomination (2022) is the compelling debut novel by Australian writer Ashley Goldberg. It tells the story of a friendship between two men which endures religious differences, individual searches for meaning and painful self-discovery.
Childhood friends Ezra and Yonatan grew up together in an ultra-Orthodox Jewish community. When an unthinkable event shakes this community to its core, they are sent down very different paths – so much so that when they accidentally meet again 20 years later, they couldn’t be more different: Ezra is an atheist and Yonatan, a rabbi.
The context of their reunion lends the book an even more pronounced socio-political edge, as the two come together at a protest organised against a former schoolteacher of theirs, accused of sexually assaulting his students. The story unfolds in two separate narratives led by Ezra and Yonatan, but these crimes form the constant axis around which all their actions revolve.
Similar to Deborah Feldman’s memoir Unorthodox (2012), and the subsequent mini-series that received widespread critical acclaim, Abomination takes its readers right into the heart of an otherwise secluded slice of society: an ultra-Orthodox Jewish community.
Abomination introduces readers to customs and traditions that few are intimately privy to. This world is filled with Hebrew language and prayers, alongside strict rules and laws, which creates a fascinating web of idiosyncrasies that consume and hold you from the very first page.
The real strength of this novel lies not only in its fascinating subject matter, but in the characterisation of its two protagonists. Switching between past and present, the novel explores Ezra and Yonatan at two very different points in their lives. This gives Abomination an almost autobiographical edge – the men are portrayed so vividly, you begin to believe they must be real. In fact, Goldberg grew up in an Orthodox community and questioned his faith, and says he sees himself in both characters:
“Abomination is a story that is close to me, about friendship and identity. When I began writing, I intended to engage with my Jewish background but not exactly in the way that came out on the page. Morality is central to Judaism and that morality is guided by Jewish law. And so, I suppose a part of myself that I hadn’t been willing to engage with came out as I wrote.”
Ezra and Yonatan are always truthful to themselves, etched deeply in their community and display genuine vulnerability and, above all, heart. They both have their own personal demons to fight and their own place in the world, and yet they also betray a universal truth about young people everywhere:
“Did anyone actually know what kind of life they wanted, anyway?”
They do and they don’t, and often the author leaves you with nothing more than concerns – if these perfectly drawn characters don’t have a path sketched out for them, what hope is there for us?
Naturally, the main theme winding its way through these pages is religion – and not just this one very specific line of religion, but the idea itself. The values, the rules, the hypocrisies: it’s all approached with compassion and rigour, seen through two very different points of views. Abomination excuses nothing and judges no one. Its characters fail again and again, but despite everything, they always learn something by the end, no matter how messy this knowledge is.
“But God didn’t do that to him. There was a lack of culpability in punishment by God. It was his own conscience, wrestling with his actions, that had him ready to pull out his own fingernails. He was the curse of his own suffering, and he had to be the one to end it. There were no answers in that shule, only nostalgia and the last vestiges of a faith he had long since abandoned. And so he left.”
Coming from two very different perspectives – one who’s turned away from his religion 20 years ago and is now suddenly pushed right back into its world, and the other who’s been observing the laws of his faith all his life and is suddenly unsure of the next step – Ezra and Yonatan provide a wide array of opinions and philosophies, covering almost all bases. In their own personal ponderings, they’re often unwittingly similar, leading to questions we are pushed to ponder alongside them.
“Was it weakness to hold onto the source of meaning faith provided?”
However, Abomination isn’t just about faith in religion. Above all, it is also about faith in friendship, in love, in beliefs – whether they’re personal or political. These two men are not flawless – far from it – and yet it is their beliefs that propel us and the story onwards, towards better things.
“You’re not broken because you didn’t love someone who loved you.”
Abomination hooks you in from the start, and takes you on a compelling, heartfelt ride that winds its way around questions of friendship, faith, family and identity with nuanced insight.
Many thanks to Penguin Books Australia for an advance review copy.
Fruzsina Gál is an aspiring writer, born in Hungary but living in Australia. She has been a reader all her life, and her first short story, 'The Turul' was published in Griffith University's 2018 anthology, Talent Implied. Her writing is often focussed on identity and the effects of immigration on the self. You can find her online at www.fruzsinagal.com or @thenovelconversation.