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By Joshua Cohen

"Joshua Cohen has created a visionary novel that's terrifying and heartbreaking and humbling in its luminous brilliance. in my opinion, it firmly locations the writer at the related point as Kafka."—Michael Disend, writer of Stomping the Goyim

"The concept that there are a number of heavens, correct ones and mistaken ones, white ones and black ones, is driven to its fantastical limits through Brooklyn author Joshua Cohen in his dream-world novel of the afterlife. . . . Heaven is a tough yet profitable learn on thematic and formal levels."—The Brooklyn Rail

"A breathless flight of managed delirium, an exquisitely blasphemous journey of an afterlife the place earth's dominion, in all its terror and glory, trumps the fantastic and overturns the realm to return. . . . it is a courageous ebook that are supposed to earn its younger writer the reader's profound and enduring admiration."—Steve Stern, writer of The Frozen Rabbi

When a ten-year-old Jewish boy is exploded on a Jerusalem highway via a ten-year-old Palestinian boy, he wakes up in a heaven not anyone in his culture ready him for, a heaven of others. Joshua Cohen's novel stands on the crossroads of a conflicted urban and wordplay that either celebrates and dismantles tradition.

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He’s coming used to be what Aba could say to the Queen who had Heard all of it sooner than. Me too, I’m going, Me 3. i used to be regularly past due for faculty, i used to be regularly the 1st one domestic. Then dinner. You consume your beets and the Queen allows you to watch cartoons is the way it went. Or the Queen allows you to watch cartoons and you’ve eaten your beets is the way it may still move. must have long past, tub, finally mattress. yet I by no means saved that 1/2 the haggle. Are you coming? one virgin had stated to a different Is he going with us? all had acknowledged to one another at the same time I left them and so all of Queen Houri had stated to me or even I’d stated it too, that is to publish as I got down to search with assistance from a thumb. jogging I left. And submissively lengthy. the way in which they stated it, it appeared so uncomplicated, it's going to. Any path to at least one vacation spot. each cardinality to a capstone. Shoot an arrow then persist with it lengthy. stroll in your palms clad within the gloves of assassins. pass down and publish. yet exodus isn't that straightforward. They have been the camels. that they had ridden me out to the Fountain at which I drank with out quench. that they had ridden me out to a different Fountain, then a 3rd. And nonetheless no. Water gushed out my jagged gap, a sprung without spring. repeatedly I defined to them and to be able to myself what I referred to as like the Queen referred to as any thousand of hers My hindrance What’s his challenge? What occurred to my Pants? then one camel drew with its foot within the sand a map effaced quick via wind. Cloven over. And so it drew it back, or tried to, after which back, every time the map in basic terms one-ninth, or one-seventh, accomplished, then the erasure from wind. whole. I’m conversing utter. Then camels labored at the map, every one at an contrary finish, and the map used to be then one-third-finished, or two-sixths-whole, then the wind back after which not anything. And so 3 camels after which 4, each one from its personal gusting sector till back with the wind and so it took seven of the camels all hoofing it concurrently to all jointly entire the map I had via then memorized in entire as I had had it partly. As for why the camels couldn’t journey me available in the market themselves, it wasn’t ever proposed. Into by no means, I left. Having been directed to the Valley among the 2 Mountains, I undefined. i used to be to hunt the guy named Mohammed. There he may support me, It used to be acknowledged he must, stated by means of Allah. move me to the afterlife excellent to my earlier sure. No questions requested. Having spoke back none, I went. Having substantiated not anything, I submitted. This guy named Mohammed might rectify this mistake—mine, his, or that of not anyone, none other’s. this error as unmistaken as all divine, yet a rectification were made worthwhile nonetheless. now not an apology. a trifling reparation. Miser it a therapeutic. an entire. now not on religion, to move on desperation. How does he recognize a voice acknowledged. It used to be a gust. And recognize this too. He was once scrutinized by way of the sunlight. mild and heat regardless of day or evening have been denied him, then granted in showers, in snows the colour of ash burnt in ovens. because it is related. And that the sand preserved his tracks because it preserved the path of no different.

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