My general advice to anyone writing a fantasy is to iron out their magic system before beginning. Which is why I find it hilarious that the characters in Uncommon Charm, a gothic comedy co-written by Emily Bergslien and Kat Weaver, are attempting to do just that. And they go about it in a manner so delightfully hilarious that the poignant part of the novella practically snuck up on me, leaving me completely unguarded and entirely open to its emotional impact.
The story is told from the viewpoint of Julia, a happily magic-less sixteen-year-old, that has been expelled from school for nebulous reasons that appear to include a tiff with her girlfriend. Her Jewish half cousin Simon has recently been acknowledged by the family thanks to the manifestation of his magic and he has come to study with Julia’s mother, England’s foremost magician.
The banter is fast and furious as Julia leads Simon through roaring 20’s posh society, including his father’s white Russian family. Simon, as quiet as Julia is gregarious, can see ghosts and is quickly enlisted by Julia to help unravel some family mysteries. What they find is so well foreshadowed that it will not come as a shock to readers, but the aftermath still managed to hit me like a sucker punch in the best of ways. This is not a book with easy answers, but it also not a book that unnecessarily tortures its queers.
By the end of the book I was still as confused about the laws of magic as I was at the beginning, but I was no longer worried about its purpose. Julia’s mother has spent a lifetime honing her magic, despite a family and government that will never thank her for it, and when her reasoning is revealed it heals the relationship between mother and child. Simon, who was seriously considering a Rabbinical career before all this magic nonsense interfered, is set up to inherit her legacy. There is no doubt he will uphold it with integrity.
Did half the oh-so-smart conversational fodder go right over my head? Maybe. Were my favorite characters the moms? Of course they were. Did I whip out my roaring twenties inspired headband for the photo on bottom of this review? Indubitably. Bergslien and Weaver must posses some kind of magic their own because this novella, which I read in half a day, broke my reading slump. I look forward to their next offering!
Note: I received an e-arc from one of the authors because she suspected I would enjoy it. I did.
E Broderick is a writer and speculative fiction enthusiast. When not writing she enjoys epic games of trivial pursuit and baking. She currently lives in the U.S. but is eagerly awaiting the day a sentient spaceship offers to take her traveling around the galaxy.
The Bible is many things to many people. For the teachers and children that attended dual curriculum Hebrew/English schools, it is a literal accounting of the history of the Jewish people. Which means teaching that humanity spoke one language until they built a giant tower, the tower of Babel, in an attempt to rebel against God. There is a nice moral there, about how being unable to communicate peaceably was the worst possible punishment God could give, but also a hilarious bunch of questions.
Did people really think they could build a tower that reached all the way to God? What about oxygen? Altitude sickness? Where would the food come from? I can not help but think the whole venture seemed rather foolish. The Giant Robots of Babel by Maxwell Bauman embraces this hilarity. Leaning into the impossibility of it all, this retelling shares the story through the eyes of angel named Zephon that has come to stop the construction, and the human outcast named Eber that helps him.
Eber and Zephon encounter many light-hearted anachronisms in their journey, including giant mecha Gods powered by angel blood and piloted by human children plus one notable member of the tower’s janitorial staff, who is perhaps the true hero of the story. Eber’s son Peleg also serves a means of comic relief by inserting himself into the action at the worst times and talking like a walking comic book.
The story took the most ridiculous parts of the old story and found a way, through science fantasy, to make them plausible. It was quick and easy reading, especially for a fan of Bible retellings. My one complaint is that since we are playing fast and loose with the constraints of the text it would have been nice to have a role for women other than evil seductress witch and overbearing mother that is largely off-page. We got enough of that in the original version.
I’d love to see more stories like this one. Stories that breathe life into lesser known Bible tales by viewing them through a different lens. Mashing the modern and the traditional. To me, the Bible will always be the story of our people, whether you choose to take it literally or not.
Note: I received a free e-copy of this book from the publisher in the hopes I might review it.
E. Broderick is a writer and speculative fiction enthusiast. When not writing she enjoys epic games of trivial pursuit and baking. She currently lives in the U.S. but is eagerly awaiting the day a sentient spaceship offers to take her traveling around the galaxy.
Sherry V. Ostroff’s debut novel combines history, romance, suspense, and Jewish representation. Caledonia encompasses the history of Jews escaping the Spanish Inquisition. A small community establishes themselves in Scotland—of all places! The added intrigue of a modern-day woman—sort of floundering in her world of loss and mystery—suddenly connecting with her 17th century Jewish ancestor, reeled me in. Throw in a couple of Highlanders and I was hooked!
Ostroff has done extensive research for this novel, but imparts the knowledge with great skill and creativity. The historical fiction is based on the true story of the unsuccessful attempt by the Kingdom of Scotland to establish a colony on the isthmus of Panama in the late 1690s. I had never studied or heard of such events; nevertheless, I found Caledoniato be a compelling read. As the story unfolds, Ostroff cleverly weaves a tale of two women, each with her own particular story to tell, but mysteriously linked together by an ancient key that has been stored away for generations. We follow Hannah, the modern-day protagonist, and her predecessor, Anna, as they struggle to find their happiness and their place in the world.
The author paints a highly descriptive picture to emphasize the lengths which one will go, not only to survive, but to thrive. Every decision one makes has the potential to be life altering. The very powerful instinct to survive might only be surpassed by the human need to be remembered…to endure. I find this to be a common thread in Jewish themes. The choices made by Anna’s father in the 17th century, or those made by Hannah’s father in the 21st, had dire consequences and their daughters paid a hefty price. These patriarchs based their actions on personal integrity, with faith that their efforts were for the good. Hannah might not have agreed. Anna might not have agreed. But when these women—separated by over 300 years—are faced with making their own choices, do they respond by rejecting all that is meaningful to them or do they fight the good fight? What would we do in the same circumstance? That is the essence of a great historical fiction! I leave it to the reader to pick up a copy and decide for themselves.
Mirta Ines Trupp’s fascination with Jewish history and genealogy, coupled with an obsession for historical romance and fiction, has inspired her to create unique and enlightening novels. https://mirtainestruppauthor.com Her latest book, Celestial Persuasion, has received rave reviews from the Feathered Quill Book Awards and a “Highly Recommended” award from The Historical Fiction Company.
If you are a Jane Austen devotee and/or a fan of the Regency period, you will enjoy Mirta Ines Trupp’s writing. If you love historical fiction that includes romance and adventure, plus one that chronicles a not-so-well-known historical event, thenCelestial Persuasionshould be added to your reading list.
As you would expect, in any novel set in the Regency period, the story starts out in early nineteenth century England, when the protagonist, Jewess Abigail Isaacs, receives some unsettling information about her family. This starts the tension when the Abigail realizes the answers may be found across the ocean in South America. The reader is quickly transported from England to the Spanish colony of Argentina, known at that time, as the Viceroyalty of Rio de la Plata. There, the tension continues to mount as Abigail comes face to face with characters fomenting a revolution in their efforts to rid the colony of Spanish imperialists.
Celestial Persuasion is not a one story-line book. There are other subplots: religious issues and the constraints placed on women in the 19th century. The latter is what really caught my interest. I’m always looking for books with a female protagonist who has to fight her way through an uneven world where most would prefer she live in the background, not raise her voice, and operate only in her traditional sphere. In most cases, the women conformed and remained silent and thus, like those in the Bible, are relegated to a few lines on a page. Abigail deals with religious issues and sexual bias, in addition to being caught in a revolution. Can the tension get any higher?
Celestial Persuasion also piqued my interest because of its Sephardic history. For me, that usually means the Iberian Peninsula and the Mediterranean. However, Trupp introduced me to a whole new world. I had no idea about the Jewish community in Argentina and the fight for independence. It was nice to dip a toe into new subject matter.
Trupp weaves the story of Argentinian independence by informing her readers about the events and historical characters. Into the mix, she tosses in a borrowed character from Austen’s Persuasion. But what makes Celestial Persuasion really work, is Trupp’s imaginative reconstruction that simultaneously brings Austen and history alive.
Sherry V. Ostroff is the author of Jewish-themed books. The Lucky One is a memoir based on the author’s mother’s escape from Ukraine in the 1920’s. Historical novels, Caledonia and the sequel, Mannahatta, have been described as “exquisitely compelling” (Midwest Book Reviews) and “exacting, well-written,” (Kirkus). A fourth book, Expulsion, an historical novel about the Spanish Inquisition will be out in late summer, 2022. Additional information can be found at sherryvostroff.com.
Fairy tales are tricky things. I loved running around as a kid pretending I was a Princess battling an evil curse until I achieved my happily ever after by vanquishing a demon or two. As a grown up, I had some serious moral qualms about questionable consent, overt moralizing and the fact that most of the female characters were either villainous harpies or waiting around for someone else to save them. A far cry from the sword wielding Princess I used to pretend to be.
Sarah Jane Singer’s Jewish coded fairy tale The Wall provides a happy medium. While the heroine Thea starts out hopelessly naive, sneaking out from the walled home her father erected to protect her, she luckily puts her trust in the right people. Her rescuer, Eytan, not only defends her but also ensures she learns to defend herself. As Thea, Eytan and a golden lion named Zav journey across the country together, Thea unravels the mystery of the family curse that required her to live within a wall, the strength that lies within herself, and even a mystery or two about Eytan. Yes, you read that correctly, the heroine rescues the hero just as much as he rescues her.
For Hebrew speakers, the book is peppered with many fun references like the lion’s name as well as the dessert country being named “Midbar”. These linguistic clues may also help diligent readers catch some hints about Eytan’s mysterious past, but a reader unfamiliar with Hebrew will not suffer for it. There is also significantly more queer content found in these pages than traditional, sanitized, fairy tales would allow.
The trio faces a journey of self discovery together. Although Thea and Eytan each have very different demons to battle, it is only with the strength of the other that they can move forward on their individual journeys. It is a true partnership, the likes of which are not often seen in fairy tales. Although Thea is no Princess, by the end of the book she is also not a damsel in distress. She is a force to be reckoned with.
Note -I received a free e-copy of this book from the author in the hopes I might review it.
E Broderick is a writer and speculative fiction enthusiast. When not writing she enjoys epic games of trivial pursuit and baking. She currently lives in the U.S. but is eagerly awaiting the day a sentient spaceship offers to take her traveling around the galaxy.
With the approach of Passover, many Jews are planning to start counting the Omer. I caught up with author Shari Berkowitz of “Color the Omer”, illustrated by Steve Silbert, to talk about writing a book and this special mitzvah.
BookishlyJewish: Coloring the Omer is a great way to bring the mitzvah of counting the Omer into more Jewish homes. When did you first think of the idea? Was there a particular inspiration behind it?
Shari: I was taking a course on Jewish mysticism with my rabbi, David Evan Markus, early in the pandemic, and we were learning about counting the Omer. I guess I did it as a child but not with any kavanah or deeper understanding of how it maps to the kabbalistic sefirot. So I started counting for the first time for real, and I was definitely enjoying picking up this new mitzvah. But with the pandemic, I would wake up confused…did I count last night? Was today Tuesday still? I was stressing my self out! So I found a page with 7 stars of David and started coloring one point or center each day to help me focus. And it really did help! In speaking with others, I could see that they also wanted to color. I started a sketch book with very rough ideas, and then Steve picked up the actual illustration of those ideas, and R’Rachel polished it all up for publication. It was a very fast, very intense ride as we slid into production just in time for last Pesach.
BookishlyJewish: Have you tried using the book to count the omer yourself?
Shari: Yes! I colored almost every page last year, and I experimented with colored pencils, watercolor, watercolor pencils, alcohol markers and a few other media. This year, I already have a fresh copy, and I’ve been thinking about trying something new. Like could I do all black and white patterns? Or improve my blending? Or embroider some pages? I’m looking forward to coloring again and to see what others do with it this year.
BookishlyJewish: What do you hope people will take away from using the book?
Shari: I hope people will see that taking a quiet few minutes to color can be a meditative or prayerful experience, and that counting, and coloring, the Omer can be a wonderful springtime check up on how we are doing within the framework of the sefirot. Are you being too strict with loved ones? Or too generous? How about with your self? How will you seek to balance chesed and gevurah? Additionally, I feel strongly that we should all be encouraged to do something artistic as a process and not worry about the result. For those who struggle to do sit-still meditation, doing a freeform art practice is an amazing way to get into that meditative space. The coloring book provides just enough structure to allow people to tap into that silenced artist within.
BookishlyJewish: What has been the response to the book? Any fan mail or Fan ART?
Shari: One of the things I felt very strongly about was using the hashtag, #ColorTheOmer, across social media platforms, to get people sharing and talking. Now, many more people bought the book than posted, so we know not everyone wanted to share their work publicly, but those who did…WOW! We had haiku, long journal entries, transformative realizations; the book has really been a tool that people have embraced. And that’s not even mentioning the varied and incredible art that people made. I can’t wait to see what happens this year.
BookishlyJewish: What is it like collaborating with an illustrator to produce a project together? How does the process work?
Shari: It was really so amazing to work with Steve. I started with a germ of an idea, actually a long list of rough ideas and sketches, and he would find something in my ramblings that would inspire a drawing, with the understanding that it should also make a good coloring book page. Then I would go back and clean up the wording to reflect the drawing. Sometimes we had a few iterations, and sometimes one page turned into 3, or was rejected in the end. Throughout it all, R’Rachel had her hand in as well, gently editing and steering the ship. Overall, it was incredibly rewarding to work on this project. Sometimes I am still shocked that my pandemic sketchbook was the seed that grew into this book, and that the book is connecting people and helping people to tap into their creativity.
BookishlyJewish: I always end by asking – Do you have a favorite Jewish Book or author?
Shari: OK, don’t laugh. The first thing I thought of was the Rabbi Small series by Harry Kemelman z”l. You know, Friday the Rabbi Slept Late and so on. I read these as a young teen (they were already a bit dated then), and got a lot of my post-Hebrew school education this way. Rabbi Small’s congregation was Conservative, as was mine in real life; but his had changed with the times, and mine had not. He always tackled serious halachic and ethical questions with a modern eye. I’d say he was one of the best teachers I ever had, even though it was a one way street. One example I remember was that Rabbi Small said you did not have to be sure about the existence of God to be a good Jew. That one was important to me as a teen; actions being the most important thing rather than faith. The second book I thought of was The Jewish Catalog. Still on my bookshelf and still the challah recipe I use most often. The idea that you could “do Jewish” your own homegrown way was very powerful to me, then and now.
I didn’t have a cellphone until I was a freshman in college. And that relic was a flip phone capable of receiving calls only. Today’s kids would say it belongs in a museum. So I find it fascinating that a slew of books for younger readers now feature kids using tech in all sorts of sophisticated ways.
When and how to introduce kids to technology is one of the most pressing questions parents face. So when Ash, the main character of Elissa Brent Weissman’s The Renegade Reporters, loses her spot on the school news team over a viral video that accidentally broadcasts a teachers private moments, adult readers will nod along in understanding even as middle grade readers fume right along with Ash.
Luckily Ash’s Dads (the book is full of wonderful diverse representation btw) believe in letting their daughter learn her own lessons. Therefore they sanction the creation of a Renegade Broadcast, to be streamed only after parental review. Ash and her friends set out to create their own news program, but along the way they uncover some disturbing facts about the company that created the software program all the kids at her school use.
In a fabulous example of censorship that feels very real world, the company threatens to erase the accounts of Ash and her friends when they find out what she is investigating. They even get her in trouble with the principal, who refuses to hear Ash’s side of the story.
Ash and her friends find allies in their family and manage to release the story anyway, creating real change for their school and the media company. Along the way, the renegade reporters are forced to examine their relationship with technology. As a testament to the authors skill, each reporter displays a different and nuanced attitude. Instead of a simple solution, the reader is forced to ask themselves the question – how much privacy are you willing to forgo in exchange for convenience?
Ash also takes a look within herself, grappling with a school rivalry during a Yom Kippur service and atoning for her actions with the viral video incident that first started the story off. There is no outright moralizing, but in true Rabbinic fashion, the leader of the Children’s Services on Yom Kippur leads the youth group through a guided reflection exercise that has Ash viewing her past actions in a new light.
In the efforts of authenticity I asked around to a few parents, spanning a variety of schools, to find out at what age their kids received their first cell phone. The responses varied from third to eight grade, quashing any doubts I had about this being a realistic depiction of kids and tech. The world has changed a lot since I got that first cell phone. It’s our job to help kids learn the questions they need to ask to navigate that properly.
E Broderick is a writer and speculative fiction enthusiast. When not writing she enjoys epic games of trivial pursuit and baking. She currently lives in the U.S. but is eagerly awaiting the day a sentient spaceship offers to take her traveling around the galaxy.
My Bat Mitzvah was not exactly the stuff of legends. I did, however, have a lovely family barbecue and a small party for my friends. I was encouraged to involve myself in a charity project and to become a full fledged member of the community. It may not have been the same as the weekend Synagogue events+ evening parties thrown for the boys turning 13, but it was mine and it was important to me.
Later, when I met Jews from various streams of Judaism, I was surprised to learn how much focus was placed on being called to the Torah as a B’nei Mitzvah, especially by secular Jews looking to incorporate more religious practice into their lives. Many even held adult ceremonies for those that did not have one as a teen. One person told me they didn’t feel “fully Jewish” until they had been called to read the Torah as a B’nei mitzvah.
While I considered these people fully Jewish without any such fanfare I appreciated the sentiment. I began to wonder what these events were for like others. It was with this mindset that I read my copy of “Coming of Age: 13 B’nei Mitzvah Stories“. I was pleased to find a variety of stories crossing genres as well as genders. However, my favorite was definitely the single poem included – a moving piece by Jane Yolen, that spoke directly to my heart.
Running through all the stories, whether contemporary or in outer space, was the theme of growing up and taking responsibility. Sometimes that occurred in a Sheraton Ballroom. Other times one needed to step up on a foreign planet that included a bevvy of Seinfeld references. In one memorable story the B’Nei Mitzvah travelled into their Torah portions. In another, a survivor of communist Russia shared a celebration with her grandchild since it was illegal for her to have one of her own. There was humor here, but also poignancy.
As I read, I laughed out loud at the singing prostitutes of the Yiddish Theater story and googled historical figures that I hadn’t hear of before. I traveled back in time and I was grounded in the present. But always, always, I was surrounded by bright young Jewish people looking to find their place in the world.
This is a collection that is great to gift to a preteen preparing for their own coming of age celebration but it also holds up for readers that are not Jewish who want to learn more about their peers. In fact, I recently posted an interview with the editors in which they expressed a hope that the book would bring understanding of Jewish culture to kids of all backgrounds.
My one regret is that although there is a variety of representation in terms of genders, cultures, and family composition there is no ultra orthodox story. Or even a story that felt fully grounded in modern orthodoxy. I realize this may not have been the target audience, but if there is a second volume I hope it finds the space to include a few hassidic, ultra orthodox, and modern orthodox stories along with all the rest.
Coming of age rituals are common across cultures, and these stories offer a peek into a few Jewish versions of that rite of passage. Whether you had your coming of age at 12 or at 72, you will find much to reflect on in these stories.
Note: a portion of proceeds from this book will be donated to charity.
E Broderick is a writer and speculative fiction enthusiast. When not writing she enjoys epic games of trivial pursuit and baking. She currently lives in the U.S. but is eagerly awaiting the day a sentient spaceship offers to take her traveling around the galaxy.
I get a lot of requests for diverse books, especially books featuring characters with disability. In fact, it was reader feedback that led to the creation of the Representation page (thanks readers!). However, I have struggled to keep the lists stocked with adult titles. Which is why I jumped at the opportunity to read Laura Brown’s latest adult romance, The Un-Arranged Marriage.
I enjoyed the hard of hearing and deaf representation in Brown’s prior books, so I had high expectations for this childhood-enemies-to-lovers story. I was not disappointed. The female lead, Shaina, is hard of hearing and this fact is an integral part of the plot. Her rivalry with Mark, the soft-spoken male lead, can be blamed on their parents overenthusiastic matchmaking, but the vehemence of Shaina’s dislike for him is due to Mark’s failure to take Shaina’s hearing loss into account when communicating with her. To earn Shaina’s trust, Mark must first prove himself willing and capable of making the necessary adjustments.
Without giving away any spoilers, I will say that one of the most touching moments in the books comes when Shaina shows extreme vulnerability by taking off her hearing aids in Mark’s presence and he reciprocates by cleaning them for her. These are the small details that show how much Brown has thought about this issue and what it means for interpersonal relationships.
In the words of the famous Jewish song Dayenu, if this were all the representation in the book, it would have been enough. However Brown has taken it one step further by including demisexual representation. It is rare to find any form of ace character in adult literature, yet alone one that identifies as demisexual. Which is why it was a pleasant surprise to discover that Mark has been out as a demisexual for years. Because when he feels attraction towards Shaina, it ratcheted up the stakes and narrative tension a thousand fold. I needed this couple to work out.
A common misconception is that demisexuals do not enjoy sex. In fact, this book bangs A LOT. Because Mark does enjoy sex, when he’s been given enough time to form a connection with his partner. His parents may never understand his sexuality, or even remember the word for it, but readers will. And demisexuals will see themselves in Mark’s extreme abhorrence for traditional dating. He still wants a life partner, but the process that works for everyone else is not going to work for him.
The book, which follows Mark and Shaina through two weddings, one of which is actually a wedding weekend that includes a cut throat competition, is a bit longer than I’m used to seeing in romance. I suspect this was a conscious choice, because in order for demisexual representation to be realistic the author must allow the couple to spend a significant amount of time together before feelings develop. In fact, the only complaint I had was that I could not fathom a world in which people are willing and able to take off an entire week for someone else’s destination wedding. Which basically means I’m an overworked grouch.
Readers have come to expect better diverse representation from childrens’ literature, but there have been less demands for it in the adult sphere. I’m glad to see Brown has risen to the challenge anyway. This novel tackles some serious issues while still being steamy and full of light moments. I hope more authors follow suite.
Note: I received an e-arc of this book from the publisher
E Broderick is a writer and speculative fiction enthusiast. When not writing she enjoys epic games of trivial pursuit and baking. She currently lives in the U.S. but is eagerly awaiting the day a sentient spaceship offers to take her traveling around the galaxy.
During the course of reading for the blog, I often spot trends among upcoming Jewish Books. Lately, what’s caught my eye is the inclusion of Jewish mythic creatures. These Golem’s and Sheyd’s represent a shift away from the Christian themed beasts favored in classic fantasy. An acknowledgement that telling a story grounded in the non-dominant cultural heritage is both worthwhile for writers and interesting to readers.
I knew I had to gather these stories together in some way for BookishlyJewish readers, some of whom might never have encountered a Dybbuk before. My qualifications for explaining Jewish monster lore are admittedly sketchy, so I turned to Adne Sadeh (aka Jack Zaientz @adnesadeh on twitter), Jewish monster hunter extraordinaire and creator of “Jewish Mythology Trading Cards: Jewish Monsters, Magic, and Mayhem” to be published this fall, who also bails me out when I hit a research snag in my own writing. Thankfully, he was up for the challenge.
The proposition is simple: I’ve got the books, Adne’s got the creatures. So sit back, relax, and let us regale you with tales from the deep.
Sheyds (Demons)
“Night is a time of rigor, but also of mercy. There are truths which one can see only when it’s dark”
Isaac Bashevis Singer, Teibele And Her Demon
Judaism is rich with descriptions of different kinds of Sheydim. Mazzakin are troublemakers who were created at dusk on the 6th day of creation and left unfinished. Because their bodies were not completed, they can assume any shape they want, though they are always recognizable by their feet, which look like chicken’s claws. They are usually invisible but always around. Sprinkle hardwood ash on your floor at night and look for chicken footprints to see if they’ve visited you.
There are also lilin, the daughters and sons of Lilith, the queen of demons. The lilin visit at night to seduce and corrupt the innocent. There are sherim, with goat hooves, and ruachim, who are unformed spirits who can possess the unwary. Sheydim are not evil, any more than a shark is evil. They often avoid humans, living in the wastelands and near outhouses, though they are also known to encroach on cities to cause chaos. They have their own halachah (Jewish laws) and some, including demon king Ashmedai, are even known to study Torah. Sheyds show up in Jewish folklore from around the world, but also in major Jewish religious writings including the Zohar, the Talmud and, through Talmudic commentary, the Torah.
For some contemporary books that include sheydim, you can check out From Dust A Flame, a contemporary queer fantasy by Rebecca Podos, which features a very angry sheyd who is willing to stop at nothing to get what he wants.
I haven’t gotten my hands on a copy yet, possibly because it isn’t due for release until September 2022, but I have it on good authority that the upcoming Black Bird, Blue Road by Sofiya Pasternak includes a sheyd. The same goes for When the Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb, scheduled for release in Fall 2022.
Dybbuks (Possessing demons or ghosts)
A dybbuk can be a sheyd or a ghost. Following Jewish halachah by pursuing justice, praying, giving charity, repenting for sins etc. strengthens us spiritually. Without that strength, we can easily be possessed by dybbuks.
Jewish ghosts typically linger near their gravesites (placing rocks on their gravestones helps hold the in place) but can wander further and take hold of a Jew who’s spiritually weakened by some un-repented sin, lack of faith, or not having a mezuzah hung properly on all doors of their dwelling. Ghost dybbuks often have some sin of their own that needs to be addressed by a rabbi before they can move on. The easiest way to find out if a dybbuk is a ghost or a demon is simply to ask, though knowing how to ask requires deep knowledge of Jewish lore.
If the dybbuk is a ghost, a rabbi may be able to talk with it until the ghost leaves peacefully, often through the victim’s toe or through some hole in their body (e.g., eyes, mouth). If the dybbuk doesn’t leave peacefully or the dybbuk is a demon, then the rabbi must conduct an exorcism and try to force the dybbuk out. Like sheyds, dybbuks of both types are common in Jewish folklore. They are reports of direct observation of dybbuks, and of their exorcism, in Jewish articles, reports, and letters all the way up through today.
The City Beautiful by Aiden Polydoros is a historical Jewish fantasy that includes a ghost dybbuk. When the possessed refuses to undergo an exorcism he has one option left – solve the dybbuk’s murder and avenge his death before it kills them both. For a more light-hearted approached, the MG contemporary novel Aviva Vs the Dybbuk by Mari Lowe features a mischievous spirit that lives in the community bathhouse wreaking havoc on the girl who lives there with her mother, the mikvah attendant. The story features a look at grief, what it is like to be the child of someone with depression, and accurate ultra-orthodox representation.
Although space constraints did not allow for a full discussion of the nice version of Dybbuk’s – called Ibbur’s – you can meet one in Sofiya Pasternack’s Anya and the Dragon series.
Golems
Adam was the first golem, a man made from unformed clay and animated by the breath of God. Rabbi’s, studying the Sefer Yetzirah and other Jewish magical texts, demonstrate their holiness and skill by creating golem animals or people from clay or wood and small bits of soul. Since Rabbi’s are not God, their golems are flawed; small, mute, or limited in mental ability. Humanoid golems can be male or female.
Early golems were seen as helpers or even, when animals, as the centerpiece of a Shabbat meal. Later, golems were used for protection from European Christian pogroms. First in Chelm and then more famously in Prague, golems were put on patrol in defense of the Jewish community. Rabbi Lowe, the Maharal of Prague, created his famous golem, Joseph, using the spirit of Yoseph ha-Sheyda (Joseph the Demon), a sheyd who had been a friend and teacher of the rabbis of the Talmud. After the need for Joseph had passed, Rabbi Lowe dis-animated the golem and stored his remains in the attic of the New Synagogue in Prague. In addition to folklore and fiction, the creation of golems was described in the Talmud. The authoritative telling of the golem of Prague is The Golem and the Wondrous Deeds of the Maharal of Prague by Rabbi Yudl Rosenberg (1909).
For fictional versions of golems, try Katherine Locke’s moving historical novel This Rebel Heart, where a golem is created curing a pivotal moment in the Hungarian uprising of 1956. This golem is also a protector of the people, fighting against tyranny. From Dust a Flame by Rebecca Podos, also features a golem, helping to fight the aforementioned sheyd that appears in the books. Both books have the delightful bonus of being queer.
Possibly the most famous recent book about a golem is The Golem and the Jinni by Helene Wecker. This story, of a female golem teaming up with a Syrian jinn in the streets of NY has inspired many fantasy writers to dig deep into their own personal heritage.
In Judaism, legions of angels serve as God’s messengers, functionaries, and warriors. The angel Gabriel sits at God’s left hand. He carried the sharpened scythe that destroyed Sodom and Gamorah. He also is the gentle hand that plucks souls from the Guf, the great treasury of souls under God’s throne. Dumah is the silent angel who oversees souls after death. Samael is the resentful angel, accuser of humanity and God’s chief angel of death. The Ophanim guard God’s throne and look like sets of wheels with eyes.
Angels are not to be prayed to, they are merely extensions of God’s will, but they can be prayed for. Every Shabbat, many Jews sing Shalom Aleichem “peace be with you” to welcome the angels who accompany us home from synagogue. Every night, during the nightly Shema, many Jews ask God for angel’s protection, singing:
In the name of God, the God of Israel On my right is Michael, on my left is Gavriel In front of me is Uriel, behind me Raphael And all above, surrounding me, Shechinat-El.
Jewish folklore, fiction, liturgy and religious writings are filled with angels of all types.
True Jewish angels, with only one foot, spheres within spheres for heads and innumerable wings and eyes, are hard to find. Even in books. Magical Princess Harriet by Leiah Moser comes the closest. The story follows a Jewish middle schooler struggling with gender identity who is suddenly informed they are actually a magical princess who must defend the school against darkness. The angels are indeed the best kind of freaky.
My favorite depiction of a Jewish angel is actually from the poem The Prophet, to His Angel by Bogi Takács, published in in Fantasy Magazine. Spheres within spheres! Many eyes! And all kinds of accurate.
I’d love to see more of these angels in literature. In fact, I’d love to read more of our even lesser known pantheon creatures. So here’s the challenge. Give me your spheres within spheres angels. Your estries flying with their hair and out for blood. Your leviathan’s terrorizing the ocean depths and your ziz with wingspans so large they blot out the sun. I want the watery sereines and the hungry alukah’s. The kind ibbur’s and the mischievous mazzik’s. In short, I want them all.
Note: Many thanks to the writers of Ash and Sheyd who helped contribute titles to this article
Jack Zaientz, aka Adne Sadeh, is author of the blog “Jewish Monster Hunting: A Practical Guide to Jewish Magic, Monsters, and Mayhem” at https://jewishmonsterhunting.com/ and tweets daily at @adnesadeh. He’s an exciting storyteller who’s taught a variety of Jewish monster themed classes. He’s currently developing a set of Jewish Mythology trading cards that will be published in the fall of 2022.
E Broderick is a writer and speculative fiction enthusiast. When not writing she enjoys epic games of trivial pursuit and baking. She currently lives in the U.S. but is eagerly awaiting the day a sentient spaceship offers to take her traveling around the galaxy.
