The poet Muriel Rukeyser said "the universe is composed of stories - not atoms", and you can't escape that with this book. "In Babylon" is filled with stories pulling you along, stories strung together in an unconvential way, the effect more like a densely woven mat than a pretty necklace.
The theme is announced right on the dedication page: "Trees have roots. Jews have legs." Möring's protagonist, writer of fairy tales Nathan Hollander, tells the story of his family, Jews, always on the way, traveling West. It begins with the clockmaker Magnus Levie, from the area bordering Poland and Lithuania, who starts his trek to the West in 1648, after finding the house of his uncle Chaim burned down by Cossacks, his uncle presumably murdered. After twenty years of wandering he shows up in Holland, in what is its prosperous Golden Age, and finds a welcome there and a place to settle, and he assumes the name Hollander. The trek West is then interrupted for eight generations, all clockmakers in Rotterdam, physicists, engineers. Holland, poignantly characterized as the land of milk and butter, with its biblical echoes of "land overflowing of milk and honey", is almost the promised land, but not quite.
In 1939 Nathan's dad, mom and uncle Herman set ship to America, to escape Hitler and the "Teutonic hordes", without being able to convince their parents to come with them. What I admire in Möring's account of this history is that there is no trace of any attempt to evoke compassion, instead he leaves you with complete respect for how each of these people dealt with the circumstances they found themselves in.
What I consider to be the weakest part of the book is the backbone story, the story in which all the other stories find their connection. What will happen with Nathan and Nina, who find themselves stuck in an unusually severe winter in a remote house without heat, who need to keep alive by hacking antique furniture to pieces and burning it? Who had previously stacked that furniture tightly in the staircase well, and why? As the mystery that needs to pull you along suffiently to get you to read all the other stories it doesn't work very well - fortunately those other stories are strong enough and cohesive enough to do just fine without needing this central mystery.
Nathan has trouble settling anywhere, and to trust others. Möring draws this sharply and contrasts it with the life of Magnus who after his wanderings of twenty years is able to find a home in the world. Will Nathan eventually succeed in this too? Can he overcome his distrust? That is the central tension that keeps him going.
Nathan explains his personal inability to grow roots from the history of his family or that of Jews in general - and this is what keeps his inability in place. How Möring himself sees this is less clear to me.
Well worth reading, if only for his portrayal of Holland by a deliberate outsider. Dutch expatriates, like me, will be able to identify with that very well. And for a flavor of a history of ordinary Jews in a strange world, both bizarre and moving, Möring is an expert cook.