Solomon Kugel is almost manic in his anxiety. He and his wife recently bought a home in Stockton, NY -- home, birthplace, final resting place of nothing and no one significant. He's concerned about the lack of rent coming in from his borderline-senile mother, who lives in a downstairs apartment, the unpleasant tenant renting the other apartment, and the rash of home arsons in the area. He's so manic in his anxiety that he's praying for mouse droppings when he goes to investigate a noise in his attic and discovers Anne Frank (yes, that
Anne Frank). Having been advised that she's better off as a dead celebrated writer than a live one, she's been hiding out for the last few decades and is upset that she's run out of matzoh.
Honestly, I read half of this book and then shelved it. I didn't think it was that bad, I just didn't find it really all that funny and part of me suspects that it's because I'm a gentile from southern Ohio -- I'm just not the right market for this story. Also, and I know this it nitpicky, but it's so hard for me to read books that don't utilize quotation marks. They exist for a reason and not using them doesn't make you cool or edgy or unique. It makes your book harder to read.