A gaunt man walks the deck of the ocean liner that is taking him home to Cuba. He is sad and frail, saying little, eating less, politely nodding to his fellow passengers, many of whom know his name, even though they don't recognize his face or figure. Twenty-five years earlier this same man was famous throughout the world. He was corpulent, expansive, and cheerful. On any given night he could be found at a Habana nightclub enjoying a sumptuous meal, perhaps rising to entertain the crowd with one of his famous songs. Later he might visit a bordello, then return to his comfortable home and sleep soundly until the next afternoon.

The transformation of Israel Levis can be traced most directly to the years he spent in Buchenwald, where he "mistakenly" was sent by the Nazi forces occupying Paris. But Israel's spiritual journey is a decades-long process of reflection and self-examination that comes into full relief in this beautiful elegiac novel about identity, music, and faith. Along the way we are treated to a vibrant, fascinating portrait of Habana before and after the Second World War.

Born to an affluent, educated Habana family, Israel Levis was a musical prodigy, coddled and adored by his parents. He grew up believing that his talent was a gift from a benevolent God, whom he would one day meet in Heaven. As he grows older, Israel begins to encounter life's imperfections: his beloved sister dies young, and his father is killed in a tragic accident. He falls in love with a beautiful singer, yet cannot reveal his feelings to her. He is horrified to find himself attracted to other men, and represses these unseemly passions with visits to prostitutes.

By the time he reaches adulthood, Israel Levis is famous -- not just for his musical gifts, but also for his appetite for food, drink, and women; for his generosity, piousness, and devotion to his mother; and for his eccentric ways. A melody he composes on the fly becomes an international sensation, and his fame grows. As Habana suffers through a brutal dictatorship, Israel continues to live the life of a dandy, plagued by his unrequited desires, and only vaguely aware of the dangerous unrest that surrounds him.

Convinced, finally, that he is at risk in Cuba, Israel immigrates to Paris, where he is the toast of the town. Even as Hitler advances on the city, Israel continues to pursue his primary interests: music, food, and sex, with little thought to the changing world. It isn't until he is identified as Jew by the Nazis -- despite his exhortations of his Catholicism -- that he becomes fully aware of the horrors unfolding around him. Little by little the life that Israel so enjoyed slips away. He is shunned, derided, and eventually shipped off to Buchenwald where, along with thousands of others, he is stripped of his dignity, his identity, and eventually of his faith in God.

Until his imprisonment, Israel Levis would have considered himself a blessed man, convinced that God was watching over him and protecting him. Israel's relationship to God was not unlike a child worshiping a parent, wondering what that parent is truly like, but happy enough to accept his or her sovereignty without question. Once he is released, Israel has lost his voracious appetites. He feels betrayed by God, and remembers with humiliation the life he had before, consumed as it was with trivial and vain pursuits.

And so Israel returns to Habana a changed man. He is no longer certain of his faith, or even of the importance of his musical gift. His longings for food and drink, for women and men, have been replaced by an unsettling awareness that his life has been wasted. Where once he welcomed fame, he now shies away from the limelight, for if God fails to exist, then so must his talent. When at last he dies, Israel revisits his childhood, his fantasies and joys, his sorrows and disappointment. But most of all he wistfully remembers the Habana of his youth, when life -- and the world -- was good.