Lisa Goldstein

Lisa Goldenstein has crafted a twisty, turny tale worthy of its title. The reader is drawn along with Molly Travers and Private Investigator John Stow as they traverse the maze trying to uncover the history of Molly's recently discovered family of travelling illusionists. Is the magic real? What happened to Thorne? Who hired the investigator? The answers only beget more questions --and nobody gives a straight answer-- as they travel across the globe from Oakland to Chicago to London. They show more must be careful as the more they uncover, the more people are after the secrets of Molly's family and the mysterious Order of the Labyrinth.
Molly is a well-drawn and dynamic character who is as much in the dark as the rest of us. The suspense and wonder and confusion are keenly felt by both her and the reader. Both make suppositions and begin to guess at the eventual outcome; some inferences are right and others are wrong. The cast of supporting characters are fascinating and amusing, and as the web between them grows, amazing things begin to happen. Molly will never look at the world in the same way, and neither will the reader.
I'd like to thank NetGalley and Open Road media for the chance to review this amazing book, and I highly recommend it to anyone who wants to see the world in a different way. show less

I received an advance reading copy from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

YA fantasy that really works well. I can certainly see why it received awards as this short novel does what few of this type are able to do. Magical Realism is a tricky genre. Embraced by masters such as Borges and Garcia Marquez, it often comes off muddy and confusing in the hands of lesser writers. The fantasy elements predominate and the storyline bears little or no resemblance to the real world; or the show more realistic takes center stage and the fantasy elements feel either out of place, or tacked almost as an after-thought. Not so with The Red Magician--both the fantasy and the realistic elements seamlessly weave into the story, yet even more is going on here.

I would put this novella up there with The Book Thief and Maus as great YA treatments of the horror of the Holocaust. There are scenes here that evoked memories for me of the great Elie Wiesel trilogy. The horrible beyond comprehension image of families separated by a gesture from the Angel of Death---right leads to death, left to undeath in the camps—which is worse? Even in the end, liberation of the body does not also liberate the spirit. The crippling effects of survivor guilt are felt for the remainder of one’s life.

A wonderful story of magic, and folklore. A harrowing, yet complex, tale of evil. All painted in colors of deep Jewish tradition and history. Heartbreaking characters. Inescapable truths. Unforgettable. show less

4.5 stars

Last December, I read Lisa Goldstein's National Book Award-winning The Red Magician and was not impressed. Thus it was with some trepidation that I accepted Open Road Media's invitation to review Walking the Labyrinth, originally published in 1998, five years after The Red Magician. My concern could not have been more misplaced; those five years were a period of spectacular growth in Goldstein's writing.

Walking the Labyrinth is, like The Red Magician, a paranormal fantasy. However, show more while Walking the Labyrinth is informed by the time and place of its setting, it is not driven by them in the way that The Red Magician depended on the Holocaust for its meaning. Instead, Walking the Labyrinth is a multi-generational family drama, in which the family members happen to possess a variety of supernatural powers. Although those powers do play a key role in resolving the book's central mystery (what happened to Callan Allalie's sister Thorne), they are just the icing on the cake; the real meat of the story (to use yet another food metaphor) is Goldstein's moving and insightful exploration of the Allalie family's internal dynamics: jealousy, envy, sibling rivalry, money issues, handling the pressures of a travelling life.

The labyrinth is found in many faith traditions throughout history. In the Episcopalian church, we view the labyrinth as both a journey to the center of the self and a process of transformation. The labyrinth in Goldstein's book has no specific religious meaning, but it does serve as a tool for self-knowledge and as a method for transforming relationships, for both the better and the worse. In this sense, the labyrinth is a perfect symbol for all families, even those (like mine) which lack magical powers. Approaching the book with this in mind makes the experience of reading Walking the Labyrinth even richer and more rewarding.

I received a free copy of Walking the Labyrinth from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. show less

This is contemporary fantasy of the sort that revolves around the intersection of the ordinary world and Faerie. That in itself is pretty ho-hum. It's all too easy to create fae/fairies/elves who are humans with pointy ears and magical powers. Very pretty humans, but still humans. That said, Goldstein is no ordinary writer, so her treatment is subtle and edgy. Her fae are not nice people at all, and sane people truly do not want to have dealings with them. She tumbles us into the story as a show more college student, Will, falls in love with Livvy, an enigmatic chemistry major and brilliant chef. Through Will's eyes and the lens of 1970s Berkeley, we get to know Livvy's family, a family of extraordinary women, a family that is still in thrall to a bargain made centuries ago by their ancestor. In every generation, a child is put to sleep for seven years, during which time his or her spirit fights in eternal battle, in exchange for which, the family enjoys extraordinary good luck. No one has ever been able to get free of the cycle. I think that's the true menace of Faerie -- that once a bargain is struck, even if it wasn't by you, there's no outwitting or tricking or appealing to compassion. And the reward -- what you get from the bargain -- is as addictive as heroin. But Will's essential decency, not to mention his devotion to Livvy, won't let him walk away. We experience the journey through his eyes as he delves progressively deeper into the world only hinted at in the darkest fairy tales. The Brothers Grimm were hiding something . . . for good reason. It's a complex, absorbing, beautifully written tale that stands head and shoulders above the rest of its kind. show less