Author Michael Chabon Wins Sidewise Award for Alternate History

Pittsburgh roots author Michael Chabon writes brilliant alternate history. If you are a history buff, you may already be reading alternate history and know what it is. For those new to the genre, it is fiction that spins off from a What If historical question. Sometimes that question is as dull as the "South Shall Rise Again" confederate flag flying delusion, but in Chabon's hands it is specifically Yiddish and engrossingly human.

Chabon wins the 2007 Best Long-Form Alternate History Sidewise Award for his The Yiddish Policemen's Union. His point of divergence from history as we know it goes back to 1948 when the Zionists are expelled from Israel and Jews are forced to seek asylum in other places around the world. America offers an island in southeastern Alaska, home to no one except the not-so-eager-for-Jewish-neighbors Tlingit people. There for sixty dreary years a Yiddish colony establishes itself.

That island is Sitka, a place where rain is commonly in the forecast. Without the Jews the local news features fishing updates, small plane accidents and grizzly bear attacks, and the closest local crime is usually in Anchorage. But in Chabon's Sitka, the biggest news is Reversion: the District of Sitka will be returned to Alaskan authority in two months time. Jews are scrambling to find a way to stay or a new place to go.

Regardless, Detective Meyer Landsman neglects his open cases and against orders to desist investigates a murder which has occurred right under his nose in his residence, the fleabag Hotel Zamenhof. When the victim turns out to be more than just another Jewish heroin addict, Landsman wrests himself from his alcoholic haze and calls upon his former detective glory to solve the case. Aiding Landsman in his pursuit of justice is Berko, Landsman's loyal half-Tlingit partner and cousin, and his former wife and boss Bina Gelbfish.

Chabon brings out all of the exile angst of Jewish history through the stories of his carefully crafted characters. Berko, for instance, represents the conflict between the Tlingit and the Yids within his own body. Sporting a yarmulke and devotedly wearing his ritual four-corners, this bear of an Indian intimidates Yiddish constituents with his incongruity. Unwanted by his mother's people and neglected by his father, his familial loyalty to Landsman as his only remaining living relative is fierce. Not all of Chabon's Jewish characters are as insecure as Berko though. Landsman thinks that his ex-wife Bina holds the key to the continuing existence of the Jews: "Bina would flourish in any precinct house in the world. A mere redrawing of borders, a change in governments, those things can never faze a Jewess with a good supply of hand wipes in her bag."

Another character rockets through Tlingit territory on a two-thirds size motorcycle. As small as Berko is large, Inspector Wilfred Dick rescues a naked Meyer Landsman from exposure to the elements and/or death by bullet. In his miniature cowboy way he democratically despises "everyone equally and without favor, regardless of creed or DNA." Nevertheless, he does his job with integrity and takes the Yiddish detectives as far as they can go with their homicide case before the partners must turn to Hertz Shemets.

Known to Landsman as Uncle Hertz and as Asshole to Berko, Shemets has behind the scenes responsibility for the birth of Berko and the longevity of the Yiddish sojourn in Sitka. His late appearance in the novel does not diminish his significance as a character. If Sitka truly had become a refuge for unwanted Jews, its history would necessarily hinge on some rascal like Hertz Shemets. Mission-minded but deeply flawed, his choices have as much of an impact upon events in Sitka as the life of Sam Houston does to the annexation of Texas.

Perhaps Michael Chabon did not set out to win an alternate history award. He may have only wanted to create a place where he could show off his incredible insight into the collective Jewish psyche and humanity in general. As brainstorming techniques go, the what-if question ranks at the top for generating fiction ideas. Even though Chabon's historical digression is not particularly believable, The Yiddish Policemen's Union deserves this not yet prestigious alternate history award because the fiction of the novel reminds us that all history results from the choices of not only great but also not so great individuals.