Characters
Asher Lev - narrator; a middle-aged painter and Ladover Jew who resides in the south of France.
Devorah Lev - Asher's wife, an author of children's books. As a small child, Devorah was hidden in a Paris apartment for two years in order to evade the Nazi concentration camps, in which both of her parents perished.
Rocheleh Lev - Asher and Devorah's intelligent eleven-year-old daughter.
Avrumel Lev - Asher and Devorah's five-year-old son.
Max Lobe - Devorah's cousin, a French Jewish artist.
John Dorman - An alcoholic, expatriate American novelist; a friend of Asher and Devorah
Yitzchok Lev - Asher's supportive uncle who dies in the first chapter; his death inspires a tentative reconciliation between Asher and his father.
Cousin Nahum- Asher's cousin who shows him his uncle’s art collection.
Cousin Yonkel- Doesn’t like Asher at all he believes Asher and all art is from the other side. He is very rude to Asher throughout most of the story.
Aryeh Lev - Asher's father; works for the rebbe traveling to Vienna and Russia to build yeshivas and save Jews from Communist persecution.
Rivkeh Lev - Asher's mother, now a professor.
Jacob Kahn - a brilliant artist with whom Asher studied as a youth; now an old and dying man.
Read more about this topic: The Gift Of Asher Lev
Famous quotes containing the word characters:
“What makes literature interesting is that it does not survive its translation. The characters in a novel are made out of the sentences. That’s what their substance is.”
—Jonathan Miller (b. 1936)
“For the most part, only the light characters travel. Who are you that have no task to keep you at home?”
—Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882)
“Of all the characters I have known, perhaps Walden wears best, and best preserves its purity. Many men have been likened to it, but few deserve that honor. Though the woodchoppers have laid bare first this shore and then that, and the Irish have built their sties by it, and the railroad has infringed on its border, and the ice-men have skimmed it once, it is itself unchanged, the same water which my youthful eyes fell on; all the change is in me.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)