Many years ago, when I was eight, my grandmother Rina Fridman gave me a dry cracker to try. It was bland, but I ate it anyway. “It’s called matzah. Don’t tell anyone you’ve had it,” Grandma warned. This was my introduction to the religion of my ancestors. A simple cracker could get a Jewish family living in the Soviet Union into trouble. Or it could inspire a novel.

I wanted to write historical fiction set in my favorite time period, early 19th century England, but blend in stories of immigration, anti-Semitism, and Jewish traditions.

Chatham

When writing the first draft of Abigail’s Song, I set many scenes in a home of a Jewish family in England of 1810. I imagined a village with small houses and farms, much like Fiddler on the Roof. As I researched the lives of Jews in England, I realized I was thinking of a shtetl in Ukraine or Poland. Jews in Britain lived near ports, making a living by selling goods to sailors.

I picked Chatham as the story setting because it boasts one of the oldest synagogues built in England. The Chatham Synagogue that stands on the Rochester High Street was built in 1861. Before that, there was an older building at the same site, and some of the Jewish graves near it are from 1782. Unfortunately, the headstones have been smashed eight times in the last few years.

Lullabies

Abigail’s Song opens with ten-year-old Abigail singing her mother’s lullaby to her baby brother and sister on the day their mother dies, hoping they would remember her. Later, when Abigail finds herself in the hospital, she hears medical student Oli Higgins sing a lullaby in a foreign language to a dying Jewish boy. The Yiddish song seals a bond between the orphaned child and the compassionate student. Next night, he sings another song for her, to calm her to sleep while she frets about a constable taking her to the orphanage in the morning.

I researched Jewish lullabies that Oli could’ve sang, but nothing I found could’ve been around in 1810. The songs I’ve had in my mind were Yiddish lullabies by Kitka which I listened to when I was pregnant with my daughter.

Mikvah

Several key scenes of the novel took place inside the Mikvah. Some confuse mikvah with a bath. While in a mikvah people immerse themselves in the water, the cleansing is spiritual. It’s used for cermonies such as conversion to Judaism, before a wedding, on Yom Kippur, and by married women to be purified after their monthly flows. I’ve seen beautiful ancient mikvahs during my travels to Israel, similar to this image.

Pianos

Pianos were a luxury few families could afford in 1810. Papa gives a lesson to the children that they must learn the violin in addition to the piano, because when trouble comes, they could save the violin and run but piano would stay behind. Yet music helped Abigail grow and find her destiny.

Pianos evolved into the instrument we know today. There were no upright pianos in 1810, only grand pianofortes. The instrument Abigail played would have 66 keys. One curious fact that struck me was the popularity of female pianists. The ladies composed music, gave concerts before royalty, and toured Europe, including the blind Austrian pianist Maria Theresia von Paradis. Here is more information on the history of pianos.

My Musical Journey

I still remember the first note I wrote to my parents and grandparents. When I was four years old, I realized that words have staying power when captured on paper. My note said, “Mama, Papa, Grandma, and Grandpa. Please get me a piano and lessons.”

My family thought my note was cute. A solid effort at printing, spelling, and grammar. As for the message, they shrugged. “Our neighbor Nina tested your musical ability. You are not gifted.” This may sound strange, but in the Soviet Union of 1980s, activities such as sports or dance lessons were free, but they were for the children showing aptitude for these things.

I write about my personal musical journey and how it intertwined with Abigail’s Song on in my blog post, The Gift of Music Part 1 and Part 2.

Read ABIGAIL’S SONG by Alina Rubin