My further thanks are due to the members of the Ann Arbor Orthodox Minyan, especially Zvi Gitelman.

This book was largely written in New Haven, Connecticut, where my thanks are due to Mark Oppenheimer and the students of Daily Themes 2019 (eight of them in particular), and to Cyd, Rebekah, Ellie, Klara, Anna, and D. W. Oppenheimer, the members of BEKI (Beth El-Keser Israel), the Westville Shul, and Howard Ratner.

My thanks also to the denizens of many cemeteries, but especially Ann Arbor’s Fairview, New Haven’s Grove Street, and Þorlákshöfn’s churchyard.

Eagle-eyed readers may have noticed loving homages to Indiana Jones and the works of J. R. R. Tolkien in these pages—my thanks to everyone who brought those sterling stories into my life.

In the same spirit, my thanks to Anaïs Mitchell and Rachel Chavkin for Hadestown, in which I have found consistent inspiration. Further thanks to Chris Sullivan, whom I have never met, but whose Hermes I still carry with me.

While I’m mentioning inspirations: The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov. Hershel and the Hanukkah Goblins by Eric Kimmel, with illustrations by Trina Schart Hyman. The music of Daniel Kahn & the Painted Bird, the Klezmatics, and Joey Weisenberg and the Hadar Ensemble. Reb Nachman of Breslov. The Maiden of Ludmir.

The house in which I wrote this book belonged to Jack Paulishen and his wife, Michelle. Toward the end of my time living there, Jack died. His legacy needs no contribution from me, but I would be remiss if I didn’t pause here to remember him.

That house was also the first home of my wonderful, bright, and beautiful daughter, Lilja Meital, who is napping upstairs as I type this. She opened new doors in my soul when I met her, and every day I am grateful that I get to be her Abba.

Lily, I love you forever.

For the contributions, assistance, and support they gave us in our attempts to grow our family, I offer my insufficient thanks to Melisa Scott, the workers on the labor and delivery floor at the St. Raphael campus of the Yale New Haven Hospital, and to the ljósmæður at Landspítali Íslands.

Finally, my gratitude and love for my wife, Livia, are immeasurable. If she weren’t such a private person, I would spill a lot of ink here telling you all about the many ways in which she nurtures me and my work, and perhaps you might begin to understand how I, among all claimants, am truly the luckiest man on earth.

In deference to her preference, however, I will simply close by saying this:

Thank you, Livia.

I love you.

About the Author

NIKITA ARTINIAN