I had no inkling at all that the backdrop for this particular book is the Korean War. It was the subsequent read for me after "All Manner of Things", a book that had a father who was deeply traumatized by the events of the Korean War.

The writing in this book is truly excellent. It is almost worthy of a five-star rating. The author has managed to create a vivid and engaging narrative that draws the reader in from the very beginning.

As a result of this positive reading experience, I have made up my mind to read more works by Chaim Potok. I am eager to explore the other stories and characters that he has created, and to see how his writing style and themes develop across different books. I have a feeling that there is much more to discover and enjoy in the world of Chaim Potok's literature.

This book marks a significant departure from Potok's typical "coming of age of a young Jewish boy in Brooklyn" narrative.

Set during the Korean War, it delves into the lives of refugees who are striving to survive while maintaining their humanity.

Rather than following the familiar path, Potok takes us on a journey through a different time and place, exposing us to the harsh realities and the remarkable resilience of those affected by war.

The back cover of the book sums it up perfectly: "Surprising, tragic, and unforgettable, this is the story of the creation of a singular family, and of the unexpected flowering of love in a world plagued by war."

It is a story that will touch your heart and make you reflect on the power of love and the indomitable spirit of the human soul in the face of adversity.

Chaim's books possess a distinct allure. There is a palpable tension, a profound sense of belief, and the unknown delicately touching upon reality. Love, fairness, hopes, and disappointments all interweave within the pages. This particular work, like his others, is predominantly character-driven. In some respects, it is mystical, with the story following the three refuges and offerings to spirits. Yet, the old woman unconsciously makes the sign of the cross over everything. She appears to sense the power of God but lacks the language to fully comprehend it. She knows this hymn:

"Have Thine own way, Lord! Have Thine own way!

Thou art the Potter, I am the clay.

Mold me and make me after Thy will,

While I am waiting, yielded and still."

However, she fails to grasp its true depth. I was slightly disappointed by the ending, but overall, the story held my attention captive. The complexity and depth of the characters made it well worth the time invested.

Although this is a difficult book to read, both because of its unrelieved suffering and the style of writing, the author immerses us in the unimaginable hardships brought about by war and the flight from it.

Set during the Korean War, when the Chinese and the North Korean army advanced south, the story centers around an old peasant farmer and his wife. In a ditch, they discover a boy, nearly dead. Driven by compassion and a maternal instinct to replace their own lost son, the woman decides to help. However, the man believes she is crazy to risk their lives and share their meager food with someone who is likely to die.

Despite the man's initial objections, the woman perseveres, and the boy slowly recovers, eventually becoming a real asset to the couple. The man is torn between anger at this unexpected addition and a sense of awe that perhaps the boy possesses some sort of magic.

The long paragraphs with run-on sentences and a multitude of characters and subjects, in another context, might be extremely irritating. It's as if the writer is unfamiliar with the rules of writing. But in this case, it serves to fully engage the reader in the misery of their existence. The story is a continuous struggle to find firewood for warmth, something to eat (including a dog), to stay ahead of the advancing northern army, to find a place to sleep at night, to push and pull the cart filled with all their meager belongings, and to protect their possessions from soldiers and thieves. Against this backdrop are the ever-present American soldiers, jeeps, ambulances, and their South Korean compatriots who have everything: food, warmth, and transportation.

It seems to me that Potok's genius in this book lies in his ability to achieve the impossible: to transport us into the very heart and soul of a poverty-stricken war refugee. We can almost taste their suffering, despair, and fear, as well as their dread of displeasing the spirits. Because another prominent aspect of this story is the pantheistic worldview of the peasant villagers. Spirits are believed to be everywhere, in everything. And the spirits of the ancestors must be appeased. The man even carries a box containing the spirit of his fathers. Without this book, we would have little understanding of how deeply ingrained the fear of spirits is in those who adhere to a pantheistic worldview.

Apr 15, 8:30 am ~~ Review asap.

1 pm ~~ Before I embarked on my Chaim Potok project, I was completely unaware of this 1992 book. On one hand, it diverges significantly from the typical Potok novel; yet, on the other hand, it embodies the classic Potok essence. The reader becomes fully immersed in the story, and what a nightmarish tale it is.

An elderly couple is fleeing their village in Korea, constantly striving to stay one step ahead of destruction. Along the road, they discover a wounded, unconscious boy in a ditch. The wife firmly insists on taking him along. However, the husband is furious. He doesn't want to be burdened with an additional mouth to feed, and moreover, the boy is severely injured and will surely perish. Why waste their precious time and energy?

What ensues is predominantly harrowing, interspersed with glimmers of hope and humanity. It is a brutal story that will repel the reader on more than one occasion. But it is also a tale of the arduous struggle for survival in a world that has been turned upside down. And who can fathom how many people might have endured something similar? Or might do so in the future?

Here, there is no single narrator. We witness life and death through the eyes and thoughts of each character, often switching perspectives within the same paragraph. At times, I was reminded of Virginia Woolf, yet I'm not entirely certain if the comparison truly holds. The book was like simultaneously inhabiting the nightmares of three people. And because those people are so vivid and real, I too lived through the nightmare. Naturally, I wondered if I would have possessed the strength to endure it in real life.

The back cover of my edition features this quote from the San Francisco Chronicle: "Potok writes powerfully about the suffering of innocent people caught in the cross-fire of a war they cannot begin to understand....Humanity and compassion for his characters leap from every page."

The people in this book will reside in my heart forever.

As the Chinese invade South Korea from the North and the civilian population evacuates ahead of the advancing forces, "I Am the Clay" follows one elderly couple.

This childless couple stumbles across a wounded and unconscious eleven-year-old boy in a ditch. Much to the old man's disapproval, the old woman takes the boy along with them.

The story chronicles their harrowing escape from the invaders and the hardships and horrors of their journey. They endure often indifferent treatment at the hands of their own defending soldiers.

It is a very moving story told in a unique prose style. The thoughts of the three characters are often interwoven in the same sentences, keeping the reader on the edge of their seat.

It has a strong narrative drive, with minimal dialogue until towards the end, and even then not a great deal. Through the narrative, we learn the thinking and motives of the characters.

The old woman is caring and very much taken with the boy. The old man is torn between his fear of what the boy will cost them and the good fortune he seems to bring. The boy is dependant, trusting yet intelligent and resourceful, a boy of integrity.

We also learn much of their individual and very different backgrounds through their thoughts and dreams.

A compelling and beautifully told story, very different in style from some of Chaim Potok's novels. The three characters are very different yet appealing, even the seemingly bitter old man has his redeeming points.

The horror and futility of war come across indirectly, without propaganda or a hidden agenda. My only reservation is that the conclusion seems somewhat abrupt. I would really like to know the eventual prospects for the young boy especially. It is a very good story, but perhaps not quite as good as "The Chosen" and its sequel, or the Asher Lev books.

As the North Koreans and Chinese invade South Korea,

a farmer and his wife make the difficult decision to leave their village for the south,

joining other refugees in their flight. At the very beginning of their arduous journey,

they come across a wounded boy lying in a ditch. The woman's heart is filled with compassion,

and she firmly insists on taking the boy with them. She is determined to care for him until he recovers fully.

As they continue their journey, day after day, and time passes,

a strong and unbreakable bond gradually develops between the boy and the old couple.

Their relationship grows deeper with each passing moment,

and they become a source of strength and comfort for one another in the midst of the chaos and uncertainty of war.

The old couple treats the boy as if he were their own child,

and the boy, in turn, looks up to them with love and respect.

I Am the Clay was exquisitely and poetically written. The story unfolds at a rather slow pace, at least according to my personal taste. I initially found myself rushing through it, but then I made a concerted and conscious effort to slow down. The result was truly rewarding as I came to realize that each and every one of Potok's sentences is like a little poem in itself. He is extremely economical with his words and the high level of intentionality is blatantly evident.

So, while it wasn't a page-turner that kept me on the edge of my seat, I am still glad to have read it. The story is one that I anticipate will stay with me for a long time, along with the charming and emotionally deep characters. It's a literary work that requires a certain amount of patience and attention to fully appreciate its beauty and depth.

I have to admit that I have a certain preference when it comes to Potok's works. While I liked his other work better, I do really like his writing.

Potok has a unique way of weaving stories that draw the reader in and keep them engaged from beginning to end. His use of language is vivid and descriptive, painting a clear picture in the reader's mind.

Even in the work that I didn't like as much, there were still elements of his writing that I found appealing. His ability to create complex and believable characters is truly remarkable.

Overall, I would say that Potok is a talented writer, and I look forward to reading more of his work in the future.

I read this author's works years ago, namely "The Chosen and My Name is Asher Lev". However, this particular story is not centered around a Jewish theme. Instead, it is set in the context of the Korean War. Interestingly, the author himself actually served as a chaplain in Korea for a remarkable 16 months.

The writing style initially seems a bit distracting, but as one delves deeper, it adds a unique flavor to the portrayal of the stark and harsh life of the refugees. The absence of names in the story is a clever device that further emphasizes the reality of the loss of identity that these people experience during their desperate struggle for survival. It is truly heartbreaking to think about how the old man in the story could not express his feelings of love. This aspect adds a layer of poignancy and depth to the overall narrative, making it a truly memorable and thought-provoking read.

I truly LOVE "The Chosen" and "My Name is Asher Lev" by this remarkable author!

"Lev" holds a special place among my all-time favorite books. It's a captivating and thought-provoking work that has left a lasting impression on me.

However, unfortunately, the other books I've had the opportunity to read by Chaim Potok have not quite lived up to my expectations. They seem slow and dull, lacking the excitement and energy that I craved.

The characters in these books did not draw me in as deeply as I had hoped. They felt somewhat flat and uninteresting, failing to engage my emotions and imagination.

Among all the Potok books I've read so far, "I am the Clay" is the one I've liked the least. In fact, I didn't even manage to finish reading it.

The story just dragged on too slowly for my taste, and I found myself growing increasingly bored with it. It lacked the pacing and momentum that would have kept me hooked until the very end.

Despite this, I still have a great deal of respect for Chaim Potok as an author. His works have undoubtedly made a significant contribution to the literary world, and I look forward to exploring more of his books in the future.

The story is about the end of time, the encounter of two worlds, and human impotence. The escape of the old man, the old woman, and the boy from the Korean war song and their struggle against diseases, cold, and hunger recalls Cormac McCarthy's The Road, but with a real historical background and a more raw psychology of the characters, who are held together more by self-preservation and calculation than by love.

Besides the perfect description of the struggle for survival and the hopelessness of the refugees - ordinary people whose lives changed overnight if they didn't directly come to it - the book is also remarkable for its description of the encounter of two cultures, the rural Korean, still rooted in the care for the land and in a mythical view of the world (the excerpt of the prayer to Jesus is transferred to another culture and becomes an incomprehensible incantation of the white man), and the incomprehensible American, surrounded by machines, resembling aliens.