Review: The Coffee Trader, by David Liss
Random House, 2004. 432 pp. $17

Amsterdam, 1659, the heyday of the Dutch Golden Age, is a city devoted to commerce and speculation in a remarkable array of goods, such as spices, sugar, tobacco, liquor, whale oil, metals—anything and everything. Miguel Lienzo, who trades on the Exchange, affects calm in the face of risk, works from instinct, and prides himself on his loyalty.

Handsome, charming, and quick-witted, he’s tempted by a pretty face, a feeling that’s often returned. And when an attractive widow, Geertruid Damhuis, entices him with a business proposition concerning a commodity still little known, he sees its potential right away:

It had a rich, almost enchanting, bitterness—something Miguel had never before experienced. It bore a resemblance to chocolate, which once he had tasted years ago. Perhaps he thought of chocolate only because the drinks were both hot and dark and served in thick clay bowls. This one had a less voluptuous flavor, sharper and more sparing.

Geertruid has capital, and he knows the Exchange; between them, they figure to make a fortune on coffee futures.

But commodities markets are fickle, impossible to control with certainty, and nothing remains secret for long. Geertruid is Christian and Miguel, a Portuguese Jew, so their partnership is technically illegal, though such dealings do happen discreetly. However, the Ma’amad, the council of Jewish elders that polices its community with an iron fist, will punish Miguel if they find out—and a key figure on the council, Solomon Parido, is Miguel’s sworn enemy.

Geertruid’s involvement aside, Parido’s a trader himself, and if he learns about the coffee scheme, he’ll certainly attempt to ruin it, and Miguel. Further, Miguel, brought low after a failed investment, lives with his younger brother, Daniel, yet another trader, who despises him and toadies to Parido.

The Coffee Trader offers a superb portrayal of seventeenth-century Amsterdam, from the stench of the canals to the clothes that mark social status and religion to the fascination with novelty and the pride in a city riding high. Liss conveys all this with seeming effortlessness, whether through street scenes or in taverns or the frenzied activity on the Exchange.

He also makes excellent use of the cultural background. The Ma’amad has the power of excommunication, which terrifies Miguel, especially because the council operates on the theory that if any Jew misbehaves, the Christian authorities will expel the whole community. And since expulsion is a fact of Jewish history, that justifies the Ma’amad to itself.

That’s only the beginning. Like other Portuguese Jews in Amsterdam, in his homeland Miguel outwardly practiced Catholicism because his life depended on it but privately worshiped as a Jew. Miguel and Daniel managed to flee, but the Inquisition killed their father and seized his property.

Consequently, if the Ma’amad strips Miguel of his right to associate with other Jews or attend synagogue, he would be denied the faith for which he has suffered, and which defines his world. The disgrace would mean leaving Amsterdam, a polyglot city he loves and whose innovations excite him.

I admire how Liss devotes such care to his protagonist’s complex motives, which raise the stakes in this fascinating, tense thriller. It’s not physical danger that matters, though occasionally a character threatens Miguel with violence; it’s the injustice he faces, his desire to hold his head up, the breathtaking risks he takes, his wish to trust and be trusted.

That last desire ratchets up the tension. As with any thriller, he doesn’t know friend from foe, often, and his judgment changes constantly. Is someone who appears friendly actually working for Parido? Is an apparent enemy a potential friend, as he or she claims? For how long, if so? Someone’s controlling the people around him, but who? The story has a seemingly infinite number of twists, and well-crafted surprises keep coming until the final pages.

For that, blame the rumors that swirl around Miguel, who can never tell what they’re based on or who launched them. He has a conscience, which makes him vulnerable, even as he’s taking the boldest, most cutthroat actions. And he’s a flawed hero who’s done a few despicable things, which adds an edge to his wish to live a life in which loyalty matters.

On the negative side, Daniel, by no means the most evil character in the novel, sometimes seems the worst of the bunch, perhaps to give his distraught wife, Hannah, and Miguel someone and something to push against. At times also, Liss explains too much, as with adding the phrase “he lied” after someone utters an obvious falsehood. I understand his wish to make sure the complex financial shenanigans are crystal-clear, and I think he does well with them. But his dialogue and characterizations are so sharp, such explanations are completely unnecessary.

But those are quibbles. The Coffee Trader is a crackerjack thriller and first-rate historical novel, and I highly recommend it.

Disclaimer: I obtained my reading copy of this book from the public library.