This beautifully written, multi-generational story traces the paths of three women who lead entirely separate lives. There’s Eliya, a young woman who thinks she has finally found true love with her charismatic and demanding husband, an aspiring novelist, until he ends their relationship in a Paris café, spurring her suicide attempt; next is Lily, Eliya’s mother, who vanishes for long hours every day, and Eliya has no idea where she is; and a third, mysterious woman who has abandoned her newborn baby on the doorstep of a convent on a snowy night in Jerusalem.
Seeking to heal herself, Eliya is compelled to piece together the jagged shards of her life and history. Her heart-wrenching journey leads her to a profound and unexpected love, renewed family ties, and reconciliation with her orphaned mother, Lily. Together, the two women embark on a quest to discover the truth about themselves and Lily’s origins…and the unknown woman who set their stories in motion one Christmas Eve.
As each woman confronts upheavals in her life, Yishai-Levi, a truly gifted storyteller, masterfully ties the three together, striking chords of love, hate and despair.
“THE WOMAN BEYOND THE SEA is a very personal novel that emerged from longing and pain. But at the same time, it's a book about forgiveness and acceptance and love that conquers all," says Yishai-Levi. “Gilah's translation is wonderful and I’m excited to bring this story to English readers.”
Excerpt
(Amazon Crossing; March 21, 2023)
There are days when the world is bright as crystal. When the sea is a deep blue and the sun scatters it with drops of gold. I sat on the sand on Sheraton Beach and gave myself over to the sweetness of the silence, thankful for the ripples of the waves and the smell of salt and seaweed lingering in the air. After the big storm comes tranquility, and I felt as though I’d returned to a safe haven, as though I’d come home.
Even Dr. Kaminsky couldn’t divert me from my decision. He berated me like an old hen when I told him I’d seen Ari at a jazz club, and not only had I not talked to him, I’d decided I didn’t need to try to find him again. “You didn’t follow my instructions,” he reprimanded me. “You had explicit instructions. I told you to go back step by step over what almost led you to kill yourself. It’s irresponsible for you to sweep it under the rug.”
“I’m not sweeping anything under the rug,” I answered him quietly. “There’s no point in sweeping dust that disappears in the wind.”
“Eliya, you’re running away. Either you’re a coward or you’re experiencing temporary euphoria, and I really think you’re making a terrible mistake.”
“I threw all my fears into the Seine when I saw Ari with his latest girlfriend.”
“You’re talking nonsense!” Kaminsky leaped from his chair. “You haven’t been miraculously cured, and you can’t stop treatment before it’s over. You’re hurting yourself. I’m responsible for you; I can’t allow this.”
“You want to send me back to Paris?”
“I would send you,” he answered with utmost seriousness, ignoring the sarcasm in my voice, “if it wasn’t so expensive. Meanwhile, I’ll decide how to continue your treatment.”
I rose and told him dryly that I’d signed the divorce papers the moment I’d landed. I didn’t stay long enough to see his reaction.
The sun already slanted westward as I left Dr. Kaminsky’s office, an enormous golden ball of fire. I sat on the beach and stared straight into the sun and knew, as surely as the sun sank into the sea, that I wouldn’t be going back to Dr. Kaminsky. The moment I’d signed the divorce papers, it had been clear I was also divorcing the doctor and his exaggerated hold on my life. What he had to give I had already taken. I didn’t need the rest. I knew exactly what I had to do. I would take my time and enjoy to the fullest the lightness and the joy I felt, which, for the first time, didn’t revolve around anyone but me. I was responsible for my happiness, not Ari or anyone else. I knew I had to see all the goodness and all the beauty I’d missed during the years I’d been Ari’s clinging little wife. I vowed that as often as possible I would return to the sea I loved so much, that I would always be surrounded by love. I felt like I was floating in a sea of love, as though its waves were lapping softly all around me. The sea loved me and my father loved me, and my mother, well, I’d teach my mother to love me, but first I had to teach myself to love my mother. Even if she pushed my love away, even if she turned herself into a porcupine every time I touched her. Suddenly it was clear to me. To love myself I first had to love my mother, the one and only impossible mother I had, Lily.
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