"The Yiddish Policemen's Union" is a true delight to read; a novel where the writing itself is one of the main characters.

The author, Michael Chabon, won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction for his previous book "The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay" (and I highly recommend that novel, as well).

"The Yiddish Policemen's Union" is set in an alternate universe, one where the state of Israel was defeated by Arab forces in 1948 (and one where the atomic bomb was dropped by the U.S. on Nazi Germany to end WWII). After the humiliating defeat, the United States government allows (somewhat grudgingly) the surviving Jews of Israel and Europe to settle a barren coastline of Alaska, around the town of Sitka. They are allowed to stay but with the understanding that in 50-years, the land will revert to the U.S. and the Jews must go. This story happens in the month preceding the "Reversion". But the brilliance of Chabon is that he doesn't write about all this. He uses this only as background for a good old-fashioned, hard-boiled detective novel.

The story revolves around a shattered and broken police detective named Meyer Landsman and his partner, a Jewish-Tlingit indian named Berko Shemets. A lost soul is murdered in Landsman's fleabag apartment building, and something about the crime strikes a deep chord within the alcoholic detective. What follows is whirlwind of intrigue and culture clashes involving Jews, rabbis, the game of chess, Tlingit indians, divorce, the relationship between fathers and sons and nothing less than the possible coming of the Jewish Messiah.

Chabon's storytelling is tight and his language is peppered with the most wondrous and mind-blowing metaphors imaginable. He may be the only writer today who can one-up even Raymond Chandler and Mickey Spillane when it comes to hard-boiled detective stories. But Chandler and Spillane couldn't write like Chabon. His prose makes you feel like you're rolling around in the seedy fishiness of Sitka, Alaska and drowning in the hoplessness of a people with no place to go.

The book is a great read, even if you're not familiar with the Yiddish or Hebrew languages, but if you are, Chabon includes a few smiles for you. For instance, Landsman refers to his pistol as a "sholem" which is close to "shalom", the Hebrew word for "peace", though here, Landsman is refering to his "piece". Get it? Sam Spade would be proud.