The Cats in the Doll Shop

Yes, I know. Two children’s books in a row. Not my usual fare. But bear with me a moment. Baby Boomers read children’s books because 1) there are children in our lives and/or 2) good children’s books are always fun. In that vein, let me introduce The Cats in the Doll Shop by Yona Zeldis McDonough (illustrated by Heather Maione, Viking, November 10, 2011), a really good book. I won’t give too many spoilers because you should take my advice and read it aloud to a 8 to 11-year-old. A sequel to the prize-winning The Doll Shop Downstairs, the plot features three young Jewish sisters who live on New York City’s Lower East Side during the first years of World War I. Also in the story: their cousin Tania, who arrives from an increasingly impoverished Russia that is about to explode into civil war and revolution–and two cats. McDonough in no way diminishes “for kids” Tania’s suffering and emotional bruising (from poverty in Russia and a rough passage to the U.S.A.). Neither are Tania’s pathological shyness and strange personality ticks air-brushed. The fate of some newborn stray kittens cruelly broomed off a fire escape by an unfriendly neighbor is handled in a straightforward manner. And yet the tone and plot are mostly playful, always engaging. The Cats in the Doll Shop strongly reminds me, in fact, of the “All of a Kind Family” series by Sydney Taylor I read and loved in elementary school. (Those books were skewed to a slightly older audience.) Again, we have details of Jewish life in America in the second  decade of the 20th century. The book is filled with dolls made by the father and the talented young Anna. I loved that! (At this point in my writing I pause and look over at the bookshelf where several Madame Alexander ballerina dolls are posing gracefully.) Oh, no, I’m such a girly girl! So probably this is more of a girls’ book than a boys’ book, a distinction I would prefer didn’t exist, but it does, and so we should own it. If, however, a boy happens to be listening in–the cats’ stories will certainly catch his attention, as will the plot and characters. Moreover, though doll lovers, the three sisters are strong, imaginative, and resourceful, traits we want to nourish in our sons and grandsons as well as our daughters and granddaughters. McDonough includes a glossary that defines some of the Yiddish and Jewish terms used in the story (good for the non-Jewish audience she’s bound to attract, useful even for Jewish kids) along with a helpful timeline. Years cycle by and today’s youngsters  are disconnected an era that while we were growing up still seemed to be the fairly recent past. Thanks to Ms. McDonough, 100 years ago seems quite in step with “now.”

The Monster’s Corner

Truth be told, it was the inclusion of a story by David Liss that brought me to The Monster’s Corner, an new anthology of sort-of horror stories. The editor, Christopher Golden, makes a moving and excellent point in his introduction: many of the monsters in literature (and movies and comics) are thrust into a world they do not understand. Their horrible and evil acts often result from a lack of knowledge about humanity and our world. Two examples: all King Kong wanted was the love of a girl (human); Frankenstein (in the movie) was seeking joy and laughter when he threw the little girl into the lake. How was he supposed to know that humans drown? Before I get back to David Liss–the stories in this anthology are all written by well-known, mostly prize-winning authors of horror, fantasy, or sci-fi. Most of them are good reads. But the story involving Golden’s choice monster, Frankenstein, hits a false note. The famous monster is a tailor living in a Jewish ghetto, accepted by the outsider Jews, until he takes down a few Nazis. Then the Jews worry that his actions will attract the Nazis and tell him to leave. So this Frankenstein is a golem, of sorts. It shows him to be sympathetic and intimates that the Jews are foolish to send him away. Hmmm. I think the Nazi final-solution machine would have stopped even Frankenstein. But back to Liss. David Liss has written several thrillers about economic crises. I don’t know how else to put it. They are wonderful. He also writes comic books. In fact, he is so productive I don’t know when he has time to brush his teeth. In his last novel, The Twelfth Enchantment, also reviewed on this website, for the first time Liss brings his interest in the supernatural to his literary fiction. And it works. His story in this collection is about a ghoul–a monster who eats human flesh. This monster looks and acts like a too-mature teenage girl. And in that Liss has hit on a psychological truth. Our kids, our teens especially, they eat us alive. They rip out our hearts. But they also mend us. They make us whole, who we are. It’s something every parent knows, a truth felt sharply by Baby Boomers whose Gen Y kids have grown into young adults. I think Liss should think a bit more about his metaphor. It’s profound, and goes much deeper than his story takes us, which he whips off adeptly. As for the book as a whole–monsters, the supernatural, horror stories: they’re quite popular these days. Vampires and Zombies. Twilight, True Blood, the new TV series, “American Horror Story.” If you like the genre, you’ll be thoroughly entertained, even enlightened. If you haven’t sat down with a bunch of horror stories since some high school teacher made you read H.P. Lovecraft and Mary Shelley’s novel, this is a nice place to land. Nothing is scary enough to give you nightmares. (Clicking on the cover will take you to Barnes & Noble online.)