I was pleasantly surprised to receive this book. I didn’t request it but I read and enjoyed, other books by Kenneth Wishnia and I’d like to think he kept me in mind.

After finishing the Jewish Noir II: Tales of Crime and Other Dark Deeds, the first thing that stood up in my mind is the quality of the writing. In these short stories, sometimes a whole world was discovered. Many of the stories were thought-provoking, as well as spiced with the self-deprecating, dark humor I adore.

I enjoyed the presentation and the way the collection was organized. Even though there is no central theme to the stories, besides the obvious (Jewish noir), the stories flowed seamlessly into one another in a balanced way, which someone made sense.

The collection consists of stories ranging from post-World War II trauma to mysticism, including exploration of the psyche, this new (but not really) wave of anti-Semitism, civil rights, and others. I specifically enjoyed the story about Israeli mercenaries, something you don’t think about when the word “Jewish” comes to mind.

Much like Jewish Noir, this was a diverse collection of stories, which were as varied as the name implies. The dark deeds, noir, and crime promised in the title all make delicious appearances for a fun, and entertaining read. ( )

This second anthology touching on the trials and tribulations of being Jewish misses the mark. The current divisive political climate described in Ken Wishnia’s introduction, makes survival of Jews and other minorities more challenging. However, the stories, for the most part, do not reflect this. Nor do many of them have that traditional ‘noir’ feel. The authors are less known than those in its predecessor volume. Many of the stories could apply to any religion or ethnic group, thus rendering them less relevant to Judaism and many have very pat endings. Three standout stories include Steven Wishnia’s Taking Names in which he points out that the poor working conditions existing for Jews during the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory tragedy exist today for other immigrants in other industries; Joy Mahabir’s Datura which truly does have a noir tinge as readers decide whether the protagonist is sane or insane; and finally The Nazi in the Basement by Rita Lakin, a sometimes poignant story which chronicles an octogenarian’s reminiscences about growing up in New York’s Irish-Jewish-Italian ghetto during World War II and the heartbreak of losing a child to the war.

An uneven set of stories touching on Jewish identity, religion and history. ( )