"Uriel through Eleanor" by Brian Prousky
Uriel “Uri” Katz, World War Two veteran, concentration camp liberator, devout atheist, contrarian, cynic and lifelong bachelor, places an ad in a newspaper seeking a “typist” to assist him in writing his memoir and receives only one reply, from a woman, named Eleanor, who negotiates a deal with him that includes room and board.
Within days of her arrival, Eleanor begins inserting herself into Uri’s story. So much so that she eventually becomes one of its main characters. And while Uri is dismayed and, at times, exasperated by this turn of events, he’s also grown accustomed to Eleanor’s company and cooking, and, as such, begrudgingly puts up with the semi-appropriation of his memoir.
Though what remains imperceptible to Uri—until the novel’s final, thrilling pages—is that Eleanor's appearance in his life wasn't coincidental; it was manufactured by her. And that the two have been intricately linked since the day he marched into the concentration camp.
Brian Prousky’s dazzling new book is memoir-writing turned on its head. It’s a story about storytelling itself. About the power of language to shape and misshape history. And about the equal perils of sharing and not sharing deep-held secrets.
BOOK BUY LINK
Xanadu Editorial Review of "Uriel through Eleanor" by Brian Prousky
In Uriel Through Eleanor, Brian Prousky plunges us into the shadows of history and human memory, weaving together a tale that stands as both haunting and transcendent. Uriel, or "Uri," has chosen to set his war-ravaged soul onto paper, crafting a memoir with Eleanor at his side—though Eleanor is far from the passive typist one might assume. Prousky’s work dives deep into a turbulent web of remembrance and revelation, spiraling through brutal honesty, survival, and the irreparable imprints of war’s horror.
The novel’s crux lies in Uri's retelling of experiences in and beyond the concentration camps—an account neither easy to read nor meant to be. Here is no sanitized story; it is brutal, and Prousky spares none of the excruciating reality of the Holocaust’s aftermath. Scenes of unimaginable horror unfold with a fierce intensity, rendered with an unyielding clarity that forces the reader into uncomfortable but necessary confrontation with history’s darkest recesses. For some, the graphic descriptions of suffering and assault will be overwhelming; but in Prousky's hands, these details form a portrait of resilience amid devastation.
Uri and Eleanor’s interactions weave through the narrative like veins through granite, infusing it with a different, yet equally palpable tension. In their dialogues, there exists a duality—two souls haunted by their pasts, both protecting and revealing hidden facets of themselves through their shared work. Eleanor, like Uri, has her secrets, and as the memoir progresses, we sense an invisible but profound bond building between them.
Prousky’s storytelling is complex, full of interwoven perspectives that challenge readers to track the delicate movements of trauma, trust, and memory. Uriel Through Eleanor is no light read; it is a labyrinth of sorrow and survival that compels and confronts, leaving its mark long after the final page. This is a novel where every twist seems fated, every revelation unsettlingly true—a masterpiece of layered history and human reckoning, earning its place as a must-read, despite, or perhaps because of, its difficult, yet brutally beautiful truths.
"Uriel through Eleanor" by Brian Prousky - 5 STARS - "X MARKS THE BOOK" HIGHLY RECOMMENDED
AUTHOR BIO
Brian Prousky spent most of his life as two distinct people. The first held a day job and raised a family and was public and sociable. The second ruminated over sentences and wrote books in secret and dreamed of a living a literary life. They shared little in common, mostly their obsessions: Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, Mozart, Saul Bellow, Roberto Bolano, tennis and hockey.
Somehow, summoning up a kind of courage or resolve he’d assumed was absent from his DNA, the first Brian Prousky left his day job, revealed his secret and dedicated himself full-time to writing. And the two Brian Prouskys became one. Now the author of five novels, a collection of short stories and two books of poetry, he lives and works in Toronto, where most of his characters, who struggle with secret and often conflicted lives of their own, and who never quite fit in, do as well.
EXCERPT - INTERVIEW - JANUARY 2023
Do you have hobbies? How did you get started in them?
From a young age I played tennis and was quite good at it. My parents were tennis players and while they played doubles with friends, I endlessly hit a ball against a wall and, in that way, facing the most consistent opponent at the tennis club, became good enough to win far more matches than I lost. Come to think of it, the wall, without saying a word or offering a single piece of advice, was easily the best teacher in any subject or field I’ve ever had. I suspect this is an indictment of the quality of my other teachers. Though I also suspect there’s a more interesting Buddhist interpretation of all this that’s beyond my grasp.
If you are a writer, are you an avid reader?
Yes. Especially when I was younger. I read for hours every night. Well past midnight. In other words, my social life was legendary.
What is your ultimate writing goal as you see it today?
I’m not sure I have an ultimate writing goal. I usually can’t see beyond my current project, which is a novel about a WWII veteran, Uriel Katz, who’s writing a memoire while the women transcribing it for him, to his growing annoyance, is altering his words and inserting herself into the narrative. If I did have to choose an ultimate writing goal, I guess it would be to write sentences that breathe like anxious people.
What inspired you to write your first book?
In my thirties, I realized I irrationally considered myself a writer without having written anything of significance. I became hyper-aware of my ambitions fading to oblivion. It was all very sobering and motivating.
How do you decide on the title of a book?
I begin with a working title. By the time I finish the first draft, the definitive title becomes self-evident to me. Of course, it has to be attention-grabbing in some way. And convey at least a bit of the mood of the writing. And linked, symbolically or actually, to a fundamental aspect of the book. I’m quite proud of the titles I’ve come up with.
Have you developed a specific writing style and why?
This is going to sound a bit mechanical and might bore people to tears. Here goes anyway. I first decide whether the idea I have in mind would best be written as a poem, short story or novel. Though sometimes I make the wrong decision and what began as a novel ends up as a poem. Or what began as a short story ends up as a novel. If I do decide to write a novel, I always begin by writing the last few paragraphs or last chapter. Then I begin at the beginning. This way I always know where I’m ultimately headed, regardless of what occurs organically or instinctively along the way. I also pay very close attention to the narrator’s voice. I want it to sound equal parts literary and colloquial. I want it just as comfortable in the gutter as it is in the penthouse. And I want it fearless and unforgiving when it comes to describing, in detail, what’s transpiring in its mind and body, whether before, during and after a sexual encounter or any other encounter for that matter.
How much of your books is realistic and experiences based on someone you know, or events in your life?
The first book I wrote, Auden Triller (Is A Killer), borrowed a lot from my life. And I poured a lot of what I liked and disliked about myself into the main character. After that, it was all imagination with a few real-life details, usually exaggerated or distorted to the point of non-resemblance, sprinkled in.
Who is your favorite writer, and what is it about their work that really strikes you?
Saul Bellow. Always and forever. Besides possessing an encyclopedic mind and diabolically provocative temperament, he managed to take everything that was sublime in the lyrical writing of William Faulkner and Virginia Woolf and make it more so. It’s a beautiful, fascinating, endlessly deepening mystery to me how he was able to write such thrilling sentences that in lesser hands would have turned into a mess and flown off the page like uncontrollable fierce currents but in his expert hands perfectly flowed along whatever brilliantly imagined ever-bending-but-never-breaking course he plotted out for the reader.
Do you remember the first book you read?
I “heard” my first book. My mother read The Black Stallion to me when I was very young. At the time I was sure nothing could be better than watching television. I was wrong.
When you see new authors struggling, what single piece of advice could you give them on a moment’s notice?
Keep writing. Even if you know it’s rubbish. Keep writing. Produce something, anything, every day. By doing so, you’ll eventually produce something you’re proud of. Something worth keeping. Expecting to write something cohesive, beautiful and meaningful as a new writer is like expecting to pick up a tennis racquet for the first time and immediately becoming a Wimbledon champion.
How do you want others to see you or remember you? Is it important to you?
Not that important. I’d like a few sentences I’ve written to linger in a few minds after I’m gone.
ENTER THE XANADU BOOK AWARDS AND REQUEST AN EDITORIAL REVIEW HERE
Comments