Don't Judge this Book by its Title!

This is the first children's book review I wrote, about three years ago, at the request of the Wisconsin Jewish Chronicle.

As a children’s librarian and mother of three, I probably read more children's books than the typical reader my age. The former English teacher in me makes me more critical about the quality of writing than many librarians, and I find that often children’s books are better written than adults’ books, and often they have something important to say.

A few months ago, a member of my children's literature email listserv asked for good children's book suggestions for a synagogue's book fair. Another member recommended Confessions of a Closet Catholic, sparking a spirited debate. At first, I sided with those who thought it sounded inappropriate. Reading it changed my opinion, and I am confident that despite its title, every rabbi in Wisconsin would approve of the story. Furthermore, Sarah Littman tells it with humor and pathos, through the eyes of a believable and likeable young girl.

When Justine Silver, middle child, moves from New York to Connecticut and leaves her paternal grandmother and best friend Shira Weinstein behind, she feels disconnected and misunderstood. Bubbe, Shira, and Shira's mother are the only people Jussy knows who ever take her seriously. Her own mother seems only to care about keeping her carpets and overpriced duvets spotless. Both Bubbe and the Weinsteins keep kosher. Jussy once tried talking to her family about her interest in keeping kosher, but it was a disaster. They were eating in her maternal grandparents’ Jewish country club at the time. Her Grandpa Leo called her idea "mishigas," after nearly choking on his shrimp cocktail. In this family, people are Jewish, but not “too Jewish."

Unlike her own unappreciative family, Justine's new friend Mary Catherine McAllister's large, rambunctious family makes Jussy feel loved. So after investigating other religions (all of which have their good points, but none of which is quite right for her) she decides, with some reservations, to give up being Jewish and take up Mac's Catholicism. Of course, she must do this in secret.

Justine improvises a nun's habit, complete with her mother's dinner napkin on her head, and sets up a makeshift confessional booth in her closet, confessing her sins to Father Ted and chomping "communion" matzah. She has to do Father Ted's lines for him. That is because Ted (purchased at FAO Schwartz when she was five years old) has one of those mouths which are only stitched on. Justine's has a growing list of sins to feel bad about. Stealing her kid brother’s cereal box secret agent decoder ring is the least of them, by far.

But confessing to her teddy bear does not bring Jussy spiritual fulfillment. As the story progresses, she feels increasingly confused and guilty. She knows that her rituals in the closet are just the kind of thing that would kill her beloved Bubbe, a Holocaust survivor, if she found out. Only after events that cause Jussy (and perhaps the reader) to go through several boxes of tissue does she come to understand herself and her parents, and to feel they understand her, too.

Confessions of a Closet Catholic has some flaws. After a while one tires of Justine's accidents with food and consoling chats with friends where she "laughs and cries at the same time." There are also some puzzling inconsistencies about time; traditional synagogues do not read Parshat Korach during the school year. Yet it is remarkably well written, especially for a first book. My own panel of "experts" all agree. My eldest does think it gets preachy and "cheesy" in parts, but also that it has some wisdom about the nature of God. There are just enough contemporary details, and the story won't feel "dated" too soon. It effectively captures the pains of early adolescence. More importantly, it can teach us all something about parenting and being a Jew in twenty-first century America. I'm not sure how much a non-Jew would enjoy it. Nevertheless, I definitely recommend that any and all Jewish parents, if they think they understand their children or wish they did, should read Confessions of a Closet Catholic.