A young man's dogged devotion

Meanwhile, the narrative switches over to the dog's owner, a young woman named Tamar, who's on a dark adventure of her own. Grossman feeds us information about her slowly, but it's clear that she's left a dysfunctional family to save someone very dear to her. She shaves her head, flushes away her diary page by page, and starts singing on street corners. Like a secret agent using herself as bait, she's waiting to be drawn into Jerusalem's criminal underworld by a kind of Fagan of the street performers.

Grossman reportedly interviewed a number of runaways in preparation for writing this novel, and the result is a portrait of their cruel lives that's as rich as it is disturbing.

While Tamar and Assaf race through these twin searches, their respective pasts come into light, fleshing out the stories of two sensitive, lonely teens. Even before they meet, we're invested in their romance, convinced it must happen, determined to see them united.

A celebrated and sometimes controversial journalist, Grossman wears his politics lightly in this story, but the complexity of Israeli society reverberates under every page. Assaf remembers his family's anxiety during the first Iraq war. He's torn by Israel's treatment of the Palestinians. He's confused by his sister's decision to abandon them for America. Even the haunting fairy-tale scenes that give the book a touch of magical realism are stained with the agony of an idealistic nation forced to betray its principles.

But all of these profound issues remain where they should in this novel, knitted into the everyday concerns of a pensive young man who also worries about his complexion, negotiates the demands of selfish friends, and wonders if the owner of a lost dog could be the one for him. Politics aside, Grossman is more interested in capturing first love in all its surprising energy, a thrilling misimpression that you're experiencing something the world has never known before.

The age range for this book is unusually wide. Its American publisher is being careful not to position it as a young adult novel or even mention that it won a children's prize in Germany. (That label can be as damning as the "teacher of the year" award at a prestigious university - a sure sign you won't get tenure.) But it would be a shame not to alert high school teachers and librarians to this gem.

Grossman has such a tender ear for the whimpers of adolescent loneliness and such deep appreciation for youthful heroism. There's a boundless canine vitality to this book, guided by a philosopher's insight. Indeed, the searching questions that Tamar and Assaf ask themselves about their purpose in life and their responsibilities to others aren't childish or naive. Adults need to keep asking those questions, and young people need to be reassured that they're not asking them alone.

• Ron Charles is the Monitor's book editor. E-mailRon Charles.

Page: 1 | 2