A dancer and a doctor embark on a tentative romance in 1960s New York.
The parallels between Katya Symanova and John Curtin, the two central characters in this empathetic novel, are clear from its early pages. Both have dedicated themselves to their work—Katya to her achievements as a dancer, John to his career as a psychiatrist. Both have experienced a renaming process of sorts. In John’s case, that happened when he traveled to the United States as a young man after having survived the Holocaust; for Katya, it was for professional reasons. Their paths first cross in Paris; John sees Katya dance and is immediately captivated by her. He sees her again in New York, where they live, and experiences a kind of revelation: “He was awash in a mysterious sensation: she was a song being born.” Eventually, they embark on a relationship. Complicating matters is Katya’s ongoing personal and professional relationship with the choreographer with whom she’s worked since her teens—and yes, at least one supporting character comments on the troubles inherent to this dynamic. But for Katya, the importance of art is paramount: “Mr. Yanakov was her means to dance. She needed dance in order to be. How could she imagine that she could date John with the insouciance of an ingenue?” As John grapples with his own experience of childhood trauma, Toll creates a sense of mystery as to whether the bond between these two people will solidify or end in a rupture—and throughout, these flawed characters facing complex decisions are given their due.
An affecting chamber piece with plenty to say about art, trauma, and healing.