By Emanuela Barasch-Rubinstein
Holland House, £14.99
Some writers dwell on flesh and furnishings, others, like Emanuela Barasch-Rubinstein, look deep into interior lives. Her Five Selves is a mindscape masterpiece - a handful of novellas in which the dramatis personae struggle to understand themselves in dark times.
An Israeli-born scholar of culture, religion and philosophy, Barasch-Rubinstein seems to perceive the soul through x-ray eyes - or perhaps, as the daughter of a renowned art historian, she was raised to look way beyond canvas and brush-strokes.
Her opening story, A Bird Flight, reads like a meditation on mourning, mapping the distress of a Haifa academic who flies to a Chicago conference arguably too fresh from her father's shiva. Here is a strong woman undone by the unfamiliarity of loss: "We didn't dare enter his study, so full of books - that which seemed so orphaned now." She delivers her paper through a fog of fatigue, her mind slipping disobligingly off track to the cemetery.