This is a book I should have liked based on the plot; however, it was slow going for the first few chapters. I could not identify with the main character -- he and all the other characters were bland as cardboard. I stopped reading (something I very, very rarely do) and deleted it from my Kindle. ( )

I made several attempts to get into this novel and was unable to do so. I set it aside to tackle later but have decided it is time to let it go. Too many other books out there I want to spend my time reading. ( )

I received this book as part of the Early Reviewers program, having requested it mostly because I thought the title sounded interesting. If I were to decide whether or not I wanted to continue reading the book based solely on the first few pages, or even the first chapter, I probably would not have finished the book. It seemed a bit too much like urban fiction for my taste. However, I persevered and the story did improve, as did the likability of the protagonist. The dynamics between Jesse & Mr. Ebbans were interesting, if a bit "Tuesdays With Morrie"-ish. The ending felt a bit anticlimactic to me, as if many threads were left hanging, particularly as far as relationships between different characters were concerned. Overall it was a speedy read, though probably not something I would read again. ( )

Jesse Terrill, at the age of 16, has had more trials than most people twice his age. After his brother dies, his parents divorce, and his mom abandons Jesse and his dad. Then his dad is mugged and severely beaten, leaving him brain-damaged to the extent that Jesse and his uncle cannot care for him at home. Is Jesse angry? Yes, he is. Does he want to lash out at the world? Yes, he does. So one moonlit night he unthinkingly goes along with his pals to vandalize the nearby Jewish temple. Unfortunately for Jesse, he is the only one who is caught. His punishment is many community service hours reading to and helping a wheelchair-bound Holocaust survivor. The characters in this novel are so real you could meet them on the street, even the secondary characters are fully fleshed out. Jesse's uncle tries so hard and lovingly to tame Jesse, to get him through his difficult adolescence. But Jesse burns with rage. More than anything he wants to find and kill the man who beat his father. Will he succeed? Or will he be hurt in the risky game he's playing?

The reader is frustrated along with Jesse as he makes one bad decision after another, knowing full well that it can only make matters worse. Jesse knows what he wants to do is wrong, and it's fascinating to watch his internal struggle. Mr. Ebban also sees the struggle and, through the Torah and conversation, tries to help Jesse see the better way.

Strangers in the Land of Egypt is a real page-turner--with a huge heart. I strongly recommend it for readers over the age of fourteen! ( )

There’s much to like in Stephen March’s Strangers in the Land of Egypt. The protagonist is that likable high-schooler who somehow is much more self-aware and wise than his peers but who still has lots to learn. The crises in the story don’t stretch our credulity. And the epiphanies in the end are profound, but they don’t promise to solve everything in a neat little package.

What keeps me from loving this book is that it doesn’t seem to know who its audience is, whether it’s aiming for a traditional Young Adult crowd or a literary adult audience. It’s the difference between Cecil Castellucci’s Beige or Sara Zarr’s Story of a Girl and Robert Clark’s Love Among the Ruins, between a coming of age story in which the narrator is developing along with story and one in which an adult narrator—with adult understanding—looks back on youth. Where this comes out most strongly to me is in the exposition. After passages of deep understanding probing the emotions and psyche of our main character, we’ll get expositions of the basics of Judaism or the Holocaust that might be fitting in an After School Special. Castellucci’s Katy learns things she doesn’t know in natural interactions with her environment; Jesse listens to the kind of lectures I’d like to give the teens in my life but know they’ll never hear.

Blurbs pasted on the back of my reviewer’s copy praising March's previous work claim that “March has successfully captured the feel of Southern angst as only…Faulkner or Flannery O’Connor can.” I generally ignore blurbs, and its probably unfair to compare anyone living to the crown royalty of Southern fiction. I can certainly see how an overzealous blurber could make the connection. Does Strangers feature an agnostic protagonist being confronted with a moment of supernatural grace? Yes. Does the story take place in a small town where everyone knows everyone, and everyone has a colorful backstory? Yes. But for my money, this town could have been placed in any of a number of struggling Northern towns. Maybe the hegemony of consumerism has erased some of the unique qualities that made the South of Faulkner and O’Connor distinct from the Hawthorne’s New England or Sandberg’s Chicago.

I began this review saying there’s much to like in Strangers in the Land of Egypt. What made me keep turning the pages was the developing relationship between a self-aware, clueless boy and an odd Jewish Holocaust survivor. That Jesse (as in “the tree of”) is redeemed by the ministrations of a man named Ebban, the helpful stone carved with holy text, perhaps puts too fine a point on the transformation of the teen, but it is perhaps the only heavy-handed aspect to a subtle conversion in which we don’t see a fully renewed soul but rather a man set on the path of grace. ( )