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Aviva vs. the Dybbuk
2023 SYDNEY TAYLOR BOOK AWARD WINNER
A long ago "accident." An isolated girl named Aviva. A community that wants to help, but doesn't know how. And a ghostly dybbuk, that no one but Aviva can see, causing mayhem and mischief that everyone blames on her.
That is the setting for this novel of a girl who seems to have lost everything, including her best friend Kayla, and a mother who was once vibrant and popular, but who now can't always get out of bed in the morning.
As tensions escalate in the Jewish community of Beacon with incidents of vandalism and a swastika carved into new concrete poured near the synagogue, so does the tension grow between Aviva and Kayla and the girls at their school, and so do the actions of the dybbuk grow worse.
Could real harm be coming Aviva's way? And is it somehow related to the "accident" that took her father years ago?
A long ago "accident." An isolated girl named Aviva. A community that wants to help, but doesn't know how. And a ghostly dybbuk, that no one but Aviva can see, causing mayhem and mischief that everyone blames on her.
That is the setting for this novel of a girl who seems to have lost everything, including her best friend Kayla, and a mother who was once vibrant and popular, but who now can't always get out of bed in the morning.
As tensions escalate in the Jewish community of Beacon with incidents of vandalism and a swastika carved into new concrete poured near the synagogue, so does the tension grow between Aviva and Kayla and the girls at their school, and so do the actions of the dybbuk grow worse.
Could real harm be coming Aviva's way? And is it somehow related to the "accident" that took her father years ago?
192 pages, Paperback
First published February 22, 2022
18 people are currently reading
2432 people want to read
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April 26, 2022
Anyone else noticing how much untreated trauma is swimming about in our children’s entertainment these days? Obviously a person can’t really report about a phenomena when they’re living inside of it, but we’re far enough in (through?) the COVID-19 pandemic to say that I don’t think it’s a coincidence that trauma is the #1 trending topic out there for kids. I mean, look at Disney even. Between Encanto and Turning Red, have you ever seen so many acknowledgments of generational trauma? Children’s books too are finding their own ways to not merely acknowledge the presence of trauma in so many kids’ lives, but also how to face it, handle it, deal with it, and work with it. From picture books to YA novels, it’s our top theme. Trouble is, trauma isn’t just disheartening. It’s also so complicated that to present it poorly could do more harm than good. Such thoughts flickered through my little head when I read Mari Lowe’s Aviva vs. the Dybbuk. An accounting of a family and a tight knit community dealing with the repercussions of a hate crime, the book expertly navigates between taking into account the seriousness of the content while also punctuating it periodically with joy, laughter, and light.
When we first meet Aviva, she’s nine-years-old and has run into the nearby woods to see if her mother, Ema, will notice and come find her. When she stumbles back, cold and numb, her Jewish community has been searching frantically but her mom couldn’t break through her own depression to leave the house. Years later we meet Aviva anew. Her father’s been dead for a while due to some accident, so she and her mom live above and tend a religious pool called a mikvah. The mikvah, unfortunately, is haunted by a dybbuk. In life he would have been a soul who failed to complete a task. Now he takes the form of a 12-year-old boy, causing all kinds of awful mischief. The dybbuk isn’t so bad compared to what Aviva has to deal with at school, of course. Ostracized by her classmates, at least Aviva has the game of machanayim, where she and her former best friend Kayla rule supreme. That is, until the day they get on a fight on the court and are charged with an impossible task. The two must plan a marvelous Bas Mitzvah for all the girls in their class, and they have to do it together. But what starts as a problem, ends up having a solution that will involve healing for Aviva, her dybbuk, Kayla, and the whole community as well.
I won’t lie. Early on I figured that this book was going to be depressing. I have this super low tolerance for bully-based books (it's hard not feel like bullies too often provide cheap drama in insufficiently creative children’s books) and for a second there Aviva was checking all the wrong boxes. Former best friend? Check. Classmates unite against the heroine? Check. Dead parent? Parent with clinical depression? Check and check. As a child I studiously avoided reading books that looked like downers (sorry, Bridge to Terabithia). Foolishly, I probably would have avoided this. I mean, that cover, beautiful as it is, is fairly accurate to the tone of the book at the start. Gloom and doom may win awards but what kid wants to wade through misery? Even if the book, like this one, is a handsome 171 pages? That’s where the fun comes in. And yes, fun. There’s actually quite a lot of fun at work here. Aviva happens to be one of her school’s finest machanayim players. Machanayim is described as being like dodgeball with four sections. We used to play a form of it when I was a kid called “Doctor” which was similar. The scenes where Aviva plays, Lowe really knows how to bring the action. Then there’s a section where Aviva and former best friend Kayla go all Scooby Doo and start exploring a creepy tunnel. And then there’s this magnificent scavenger hunt they come up with involving Jello. Add in this highly disturbing encounter with a surprise bad guy nearish the end of the book and you’ve got yourself a story that belies its staid, serious trappings.
Next, I want you to look at how Mari Lowe doles out the information in this story. As mentioned, this book is tightly written and tightly edited. I’ve come to really appreciate a children’s book that doesn’t need two hundred pages to tell a complex storyline. Much of this book reads like a mystery too. Aviva is giving you, the reader, all the information but she is not (spoiler alert?) a wholly reliable narrator. You don’t know that at the beginning, of course. You are inclined to trust your narrator, particularly when they’re in a book for kids. So Aviva starts out by giving you a lot of information about her Jewish community, defining parts of it that might be unfamiliar to you, like the genizah where old holy books are stored before they are buried (there's also a Glossary at the back of the book). You get used to her giving you the information that you need, and that’s good because she’s not handing it out very quickly. It takes a while to gather pertinent facts about what her life used to be, and why her life is the way that it is now. As a reader, you grow so reliant on Aviva that when the rug gets pulled out from under you, you never see it coming.
A word about the dybbuk. This isn’t my first dybbuk encounter but it may be my best. The only other significant dybbuk book I’ve ever found in a middle grade novel was The Entertainer and the Dybbuk by Sid Fleischman (a book that would probably not get published today). That title, which at best could be described as clunky, used the dybbuk legend in way that felt sacrilegious somehow. This book also relies heavily on having a dybbuk, I mean, he’s in the title after all, but Lowe makes him a living metaphor, which is an interesting take. I do suspect that there will be some critical pushback to the dybbuk’s true nature and Aviva’s role in its mischief. It could have come across like a cheap narrative tactic, but I didn’t read it that way. I thought that it handled the topic with a lot of care and thought. Similarly, Ema’s depression has to walk the tightrope between Aviva’s understanding and her resentment. Notice how Lowe very carefully alludes to the fact that Ema had some depressive issues prior to her husband’s death as well. None of the serious issues in this book have magical solutions either. That’s, for me, part of why the book works as well as it does. There is no easy way out of working through a tragedy. Nor, for that matter, is there a roadmap.
It helps if you can write, of course. That first chapter. It reads completely differently after you finish the book and you have all the information. The knowledge you acquire by the end of Aviva vs. the Dybbuk deepens your understanding of the beginning so well. From the outset, I knew it was a great first chapter anyway. Heck, it even has a great first sentence (which is by no means a given in novels for kids these days). Listen to this: “When I was nine years old, I slipped out of our little apartment and hid in the woods, just to see if anyone would notice I was gone. Only the dybbuk saw me leave.” Technically that the first two sentences, but I doubt you’ll penalize me for its inclusion. This first sentence also outlines the chapter precisely. Aviva goes into the woods. She stays there a long time. Finally she goes home and runs into a search party, frantically trying to find her. She’s young and not having any information, the reader assumes that the people looking are upset for the ususal reasons. It’s only when you find out later what must have been running through their minds (and entirely escaping young Aviva’s) that the chapter takes on a more desperate, more urgent tone. These people are scared to death of that girl’s disappearance and not simply because it’s cold and dark. Something has happened to make them particularly wary and frightened. The whole book is like that. You read it once. You discover the ending. You read it again. And as you do, you begin to notice things, like how the water of the mikvah does bless Aviva, just not in the way you’d think. Lowe also has the ability to destroy you with the most careful of sentences. Near the end of the book a woman says to Aviva something incredibly important, and the book notes that her eyes, “have seen more evil and more kindness in this world than anyone else I’ve ever known.” It is good to put yourself in the capable hands of a great writer sometimes.
When I really like a book for kids, I try to find just the right pitch for it. I want to describe it to kids so that they’ll want to read it, and to adults so that they’ll want to buy it/award it/read it. So how do I pitch this to kids? A pity most of them aren’t familiar with The Boggart by Susan Cooper. That’s a story of a mischievous spirit wreaking havoc, though it certainly lacks Lowe’s penchant for working in larger themes. The House of Dies Drear by Virginia Hamilton isn’t a terrible comparison, but what kid remembers it anymore? Perhaps a better link would be something with a twist ending. Certainly with adults I’ll be mentioning The Sixth Sense (and, fortunately, the twist at the end of this book, while it has some parallels to that M. Night Shyamalan film, is different enough that my saying that doesn’t give anything away). But of course that’s also not quite what’s going on here either. Nothing I compare this book to really gets at its intricate layering of myth, trauma, fun, awkwardness, and sheer believability. At times it can feel as though Ms. Lowe is spinning a dozen plates in the air and something is bound to fall. Nothing fell for me, though. This is a marvelous model for how to write for kids. A mystery at its core. An unreliable narrator. A supernatural creature. Huh! I think I’ve figured out how I’ll describe it for kids! Give it a read and find your own way too.
When we first meet Aviva, she’s nine-years-old and has run into the nearby woods to see if her mother, Ema, will notice and come find her. When she stumbles back, cold and numb, her Jewish community has been searching frantically but her mom couldn’t break through her own depression to leave the house. Years later we meet Aviva anew. Her father’s been dead for a while due to some accident, so she and her mom live above and tend a religious pool called a mikvah. The mikvah, unfortunately, is haunted by a dybbuk. In life he would have been a soul who failed to complete a task. Now he takes the form of a 12-year-old boy, causing all kinds of awful mischief. The dybbuk isn’t so bad compared to what Aviva has to deal with at school, of course. Ostracized by her classmates, at least Aviva has the game of machanayim, where she and her former best friend Kayla rule supreme. That is, until the day they get on a fight on the court and are charged with an impossible task. The two must plan a marvelous Bas Mitzvah for all the girls in their class, and they have to do it together. But what starts as a problem, ends up having a solution that will involve healing for Aviva, her dybbuk, Kayla, and the whole community as well.
I won’t lie. Early on I figured that this book was going to be depressing. I have this super low tolerance for bully-based books (it's hard not feel like bullies too often provide cheap drama in insufficiently creative children’s books) and for a second there Aviva was checking all the wrong boxes. Former best friend? Check. Classmates unite against the heroine? Check. Dead parent? Parent with clinical depression? Check and check. As a child I studiously avoided reading books that looked like downers (sorry, Bridge to Terabithia). Foolishly, I probably would have avoided this. I mean, that cover, beautiful as it is, is fairly accurate to the tone of the book at the start. Gloom and doom may win awards but what kid wants to wade through misery? Even if the book, like this one, is a handsome 171 pages? That’s where the fun comes in. And yes, fun. There’s actually quite a lot of fun at work here. Aviva happens to be one of her school’s finest machanayim players. Machanayim is described as being like dodgeball with four sections. We used to play a form of it when I was a kid called “Doctor” which was similar. The scenes where Aviva plays, Lowe really knows how to bring the action. Then there’s a section where Aviva and former best friend Kayla go all Scooby Doo and start exploring a creepy tunnel. And then there’s this magnificent scavenger hunt they come up with involving Jello. Add in this highly disturbing encounter with a surprise bad guy nearish the end of the book and you’ve got yourself a story that belies its staid, serious trappings.
Next, I want you to look at how Mari Lowe doles out the information in this story. As mentioned, this book is tightly written and tightly edited. I’ve come to really appreciate a children’s book that doesn’t need two hundred pages to tell a complex storyline. Much of this book reads like a mystery too. Aviva is giving you, the reader, all the information but she is not (spoiler alert?) a wholly reliable narrator. You don’t know that at the beginning, of course. You are inclined to trust your narrator, particularly when they’re in a book for kids. So Aviva starts out by giving you a lot of information about her Jewish community, defining parts of it that might be unfamiliar to you, like the genizah where old holy books are stored before they are buried (there's also a Glossary at the back of the book). You get used to her giving you the information that you need, and that’s good because she’s not handing it out very quickly. It takes a while to gather pertinent facts about what her life used to be, and why her life is the way that it is now. As a reader, you grow so reliant on Aviva that when the rug gets pulled out from under you, you never see it coming.
A word about the dybbuk. This isn’t my first dybbuk encounter but it may be my best. The only other significant dybbuk book I’ve ever found in a middle grade novel was The Entertainer and the Dybbuk by Sid Fleischman (a book that would probably not get published today). That title, which at best could be described as clunky, used the dybbuk legend in way that felt sacrilegious somehow. This book also relies heavily on having a dybbuk, I mean, he’s in the title after all, but Lowe makes him a living metaphor, which is an interesting take. I do suspect that there will be some critical pushback to the dybbuk’s true nature and Aviva’s role in its mischief. It could have come across like a cheap narrative tactic, but I didn’t read it that way. I thought that it handled the topic with a lot of care and thought. Similarly, Ema’s depression has to walk the tightrope between Aviva’s understanding and her resentment. Notice how Lowe very carefully alludes to the fact that Ema had some depressive issues prior to her husband’s death as well. None of the serious issues in this book have magical solutions either. That’s, for me, part of why the book works as well as it does. There is no easy way out of working through a tragedy. Nor, for that matter, is there a roadmap.
It helps if you can write, of course. That first chapter. It reads completely differently after you finish the book and you have all the information. The knowledge you acquire by the end of Aviva vs. the Dybbuk deepens your understanding of the beginning so well. From the outset, I knew it was a great first chapter anyway. Heck, it even has a great first sentence (which is by no means a given in novels for kids these days). Listen to this: “When I was nine years old, I slipped out of our little apartment and hid in the woods, just to see if anyone would notice I was gone. Only the dybbuk saw me leave.” Technically that the first two sentences, but I doubt you’ll penalize me for its inclusion. This first sentence also outlines the chapter precisely. Aviva goes into the woods. She stays there a long time. Finally she goes home and runs into a search party, frantically trying to find her. She’s young and not having any information, the reader assumes that the people looking are upset for the ususal reasons. It’s only when you find out later what must have been running through their minds (and entirely escaping young Aviva’s) that the chapter takes on a more desperate, more urgent tone. These people are scared to death of that girl’s disappearance and not simply because it’s cold and dark. Something has happened to make them particularly wary and frightened. The whole book is like that. You read it once. You discover the ending. You read it again. And as you do, you begin to notice things, like how the water of the mikvah does bless Aviva, just not in the way you’d think. Lowe also has the ability to destroy you with the most careful of sentences. Near the end of the book a woman says to Aviva something incredibly important, and the book notes that her eyes, “have seen more evil and more kindness in this world than anyone else I’ve ever known.” It is good to put yourself in the capable hands of a great writer sometimes.
When I really like a book for kids, I try to find just the right pitch for it. I want to describe it to kids so that they’ll want to read it, and to adults so that they’ll want to buy it/award it/read it. So how do I pitch this to kids? A pity most of them aren’t familiar with The Boggart by Susan Cooper. That’s a story of a mischievous spirit wreaking havoc, though it certainly lacks Lowe’s penchant for working in larger themes. The House of Dies Drear by Virginia Hamilton isn’t a terrible comparison, but what kid remembers it anymore? Perhaps a better link would be something with a twist ending. Certainly with adults I’ll be mentioning The Sixth Sense (and, fortunately, the twist at the end of this book, while it has some parallels to that M. Night Shyamalan film, is different enough that my saying that doesn’t give anything away). But of course that’s also not quite what’s going on here either. Nothing I compare this book to really gets at its intricate layering of myth, trauma, fun, awkwardness, and sheer believability. At times it can feel as though Ms. Lowe is spinning a dozen plates in the air and something is bound to fall. Nothing fell for me, though. This is a marvelous model for how to write for kids. A mystery at its core. An unreliable narrator. A supernatural creature. Huh! I think I’ve figured out how I’ll describe it for kids! Give it a read and find your own way too.
Read
February 10, 2022Review first appeared on my blog
When I review a book, I typically dive into the pieces of the plot that I identified with or the character traits and experiences that mirror my own. It's what people have come to expect from BookishlyJewish - extremely personal and self insertive reviews of Jewish literature. I'm going to do something different with my review of Aviva vs. The Dybbuk. Today, I'm going to flip over the book and discuss the author photo first.
Is this bizarre? Maybe. But I hope you'll bear with me, because that photo let me know in one instant that I was going to find my childhood in these pages. The author is rocking a shell and a sheitel. She wrote her dedication, to her parents, in lyrical Hebrew. It's OK if you don't know what some of the words I'm using mean. Very few people outside of ultra orthodox ("frum") circles do. The point is, this was a book written by someone who either grew up similar to the way I did or lives in such a community now. The story reflects that upbringing and those values, and traditional publishing actually picked it up. HUZZAH!
There is no question in my mind that this story will hold up next to any mass market book. The narrative, about a girl named Aviva who lives with her mother above the community ritual baths after the death of her father in an antisemitic attack, is poignant and heartwarming. It has all the necessary plot beats for a strong emotional character arc. We watch Aviva deal with her mothers depression, feeling alienated from her classmates and even her struggles with the mischievous Dybbuk (Jewish spirit) that lives in the ritual baths. We immediately bond with this girl for whom school is "kind of not my thing." A lonely outcast that loves sports and her mother.
All of this is great, but what hooked me, was that Aviva has her adventures in the setting of a very traditional orthodox girls school and community. When there is a sport mentioned it is not football or lacrosse. It's Machanayim (yes, orthodox schools have a lot of made up sports with funky names including gaga and belts too!). Aviva and her nemesis must plan a females only Bat Mitzvah Bash not a co-ed prom or homecoming. And most importantly, her community is always, always there for her.
Ultra Orthodoxy is not meant to be practiced alone. It is a religion of community. No one Jew can complete every mitzvah in the Torah - it is literally impossible, as some are for priests, others for Kings and yet still others are exclusively for women. This is presumed to be by design - God's way of showing us that we are intended to survive together. To exist as a unit, constantly seeking to aid and assist one another. When Aviva and her mother struggle, there was never a doubt in my mind that the community would lift them up. In an unexpected touch, when the community itself is faced with antisemitism they are bolstered by members of other marginalized groups.
I read this book over the course of one Shabbat day. The words and setting and tone were as familiar to me as the air I breathe. It contained all the good in my childhood laid out for the world to see and appreciate (even if I was more of a belts person than a machanayim player). The Dybukk turned out not to be what I was expecting, but I didn't very much care. The story was more than enough. It was exceptional.
I want more of this type of representation in publishing. Authors should be free to use the words and experiences of their own communities, not just in the MG space but also in YA and adult books. I would read it forever. Because, as Aviva would
Note: I received an arc of this book from the publisher after I asked for a reviewer copy.
When I review a book, I typically dive into the pieces of the plot that I identified with or the character traits and experiences that mirror my own. It's what people have come to expect from BookishlyJewish - extremely personal and self insertive reviews of Jewish literature. I'm going to do something different with my review of Aviva vs. The Dybbuk. Today, I'm going to flip over the book and discuss the author photo first.
Is this bizarre? Maybe. But I hope you'll bear with me, because that photo let me know in one instant that I was going to find my childhood in these pages. The author is rocking a shell and a sheitel. She wrote her dedication, to her parents, in lyrical Hebrew. It's OK if you don't know what some of the words I'm using mean. Very few people outside of ultra orthodox ("frum") circles do. The point is, this was a book written by someone who either grew up similar to the way I did or lives in such a community now. The story reflects that upbringing and those values, and traditional publishing actually picked it up. HUZZAH!
There is no question in my mind that this story will hold up next to any mass market book. The narrative, about a girl named Aviva who lives with her mother above the community ritual baths after the death of her father in an antisemitic attack, is poignant and heartwarming. It has all the necessary plot beats for a strong emotional character arc. We watch Aviva deal with her mothers depression, feeling alienated from her classmates and even her struggles with the mischievous Dybbuk (Jewish spirit) that lives in the ritual baths. We immediately bond with this girl for whom school is "kind of not my thing." A lonely outcast that loves sports and her mother.
All of this is great, but what hooked me, was that Aviva has her adventures in the setting of a very traditional orthodox girls school and community. When there is a sport mentioned it is not football or lacrosse. It's Machanayim (yes, orthodox schools have a lot of made up sports with funky names including gaga and belts too!). Aviva and her nemesis must plan a females only Bat Mitzvah Bash not a co-ed prom or homecoming. And most importantly, her community is always, always there for her.
Ultra Orthodoxy is not meant to be practiced alone. It is a religion of community. No one Jew can complete every mitzvah in the Torah - it is literally impossible, as some are for priests, others for Kings and yet still others are exclusively for women. This is presumed to be by design - God's way of showing us that we are intended to survive together. To exist as a unit, constantly seeking to aid and assist one another. When Aviva and her mother struggle, there was never a doubt in my mind that the community would lift them up. In an unexpected touch, when the community itself is faced with antisemitism they are bolstered by members of other marginalized groups.
I read this book over the course of one Shabbat day. The words and setting and tone were as familiar to me as the air I breathe. It contained all the good in my childhood laid out for the world to see and appreciate (even if I was more of a belts person than a machanayim player). The Dybukk turned out not to be what I was expecting, but I didn't very much care. The story was more than enough. It was exceptional.
I want more of this type of representation in publishing. Authors should be free to use the words and experiences of their own communities, not just in the MG space but also in YA and adult books. I would read it forever. Because, as Aviva would
Note: I received an arc of this book from the publisher after I asked for a reviewer copy.
November 3, 2022
2.5 rounded up for inclusion's sake because we need more of this genre. I've enjoyed a few Jewish lore-based middle grade reads this year and am trying to learn more, just generally, but I found this one really inaccessible, particularly as an audiobook - no idea how to spell what I'd want to google.
The religious aspects are very heavy in this, and not being a follower, and being nonbinary, I was quite squicked at a lot of on-page gender and purity focus for some of the rituals and things. Still, I think it was a bit educational for me.
Anyways, on to the next read.
The religious aspects are very heavy in this, and not being a follower, and being nonbinary, I was quite squicked at a lot of on-page gender and purity focus for some of the rituals and things. Still, I think it was a bit educational for me.
Anyways, on to the next read.
April 11, 2022
Two stars because we need more Jewish fiction to be written. I'm Jewish, attend a Reform congregation; and am so white that I glow in the dark. That is the backdrop against which I read this book. I wanted to cheer for this book and be delighted! This was not the book I expected, but it is what I got. The cover is pretty but hints at nothing in the book. The title is misleading. People who aren't familiar with Sephardic or Ashkenaz Jewish culture will be totally lost reading this. I'm not even too clear on whether Aviva is Sephardic or Ashkenaz! There's clearly intended to be context clues indicating this is a modern Orthodox society on the East Coast of the US, but it isn't clear -at all-. This book is so poorly structured! Everything--character descriptions; characterization; the society around them; Aviva's mom--is super vague. There are no transitions between anything save for a new chapter being indicated. Not transitioned to: indicated, as in, you turn the page and there's a new chapter heading. I was not close to anyone as a reader. There wasn't anyone to care about. Aviva doesn't sound like a middle schooler, but a high schooler who's kind of dreamy, immature, and zones out a lot. The middle school stuff she sometimes notices was just barely present because she wanted to vaguely think some more, and sometimes refer to something that happened but uhhh i can't tell you because blahhhh THE DYBBUK IS THERE ZOMG FOCUS ON THAT.
Aviva's mom apparently has agoraphobia and depression, but it's so vague, like everything else in this freaking book, that I didn't pick up on it at all. It's framed like neglect and honestly, sleeping all the time can be a lot of different diseases or medication. Many diseases or medication that have people sleeping all the time can also make it hard for them to leave the house for a variety of reasons. I honestly thought Aviva going into foster care was going to be a plot point. No, Aviva's mom just...stays neglectful really, until a friend blames herself for letting Aviva's mom get sick. What? I don't know. "The Hunger Games" did this WAAAAY better: the main character also had a mother who was depressed over the death of her husband, and the main character had to take care of her family as a result. She actively worries they'll have to go into the community home, as foster care is known in that world. She thinks about her mom and notes stuff on their relationship, and on her mom's relationship to her dad. AND SHE TALKS ABOUT HER DAD. It's clearly stated when and how he died, how much he influenced Katniss, and how her life changed. Aviva does NONE of those things. She uhms and uhhh's her way through it. At the end of the book, it's suggested that her dad died in an anti-Semitic attack and...the author approached and wrote this in a way that just had me shaking my head.
I don't know if Aviva liked her dad. Aviva clearly dislikes her mother and resents her for becoming mentally ill. I know nothing on Aviva's parents' marriage. Was it arranged? Did they like each other? It's suggested they got along as partners and raised Aviva well. SUGGESTING THINGS AND HINTING IS ALLLL THIS BOOK DOES. UGH. Aviva bristles at the idea of her and her mom accepting any charity after her father's death, and is understandably in tears after a girl is cruel to her about her family's situation. The girl says the only reason Aviva's mom has a job running the older, smaller, less popular mikvah is because the community feels sorry for her. Awful, awful. I was kind of surprised Aviva didn't lash out in some way. There's some conflict between her and her former best friend, a different girl. It could have been interesting, but the author favors blandness and skipping right to conflict being resolved in the next paragraph.
Aviva doesn't even think of stopping the dybbuk until the sixty-five percent mark of the book, despite the title suggesting this would be the whole plot! And he's kind of defeated by...Jell-o? What? Can you get food poisoning from Jell-o? EDIT: No, not unless it's weeks old. PLOT FALLS APART.
If handwritten clues were stuck inside Jell-o, how did the ink not wash off? Jell-o is water-based! But dybbuk, Aviva repeatedly states, are defeated by an affected person reciting the Kaddish. Kaddish is recited frequently. Like, multiple times per prayer service in some places. Avvia doesn't point any of this out because ooh, that would be a plot hole. In some branches of Judaism, it's recited every day for a month. Ooh, plot hole. In Orthodox circles, the rules are different because there's restrictions on women and girls reciting it. Does Aviva mention this? No. Does she reflect on what it means for her? No. It's just a boring yet over the top scene of the dybbuk trashing the synagogue while she davens. Where is her rabbi in this, anyway? She could reach out to him about -everything-, but she doesn't. She can reach out to a teacher, and have the teacher be proactive! The teacher wasn't really. What a waste. And that's true to life that teachers do ignore kids at times, but still. She could read the Kabbalah. I knew an Orthodox woman who was well-versed in it. Rare, but it would have been even more interesting here!
The plot twist around the dybbuk was infuriatingly stupid. The destructive acts performed by Aviva and the fact she kept getting kicked out of class were totally ignored. She was allowed to get away with so, so much. EVERYONE enabled her behavior. No one got her or her mother psychiatric care, and it was never mentioned why! MENTION HOW ORTHODOX COMMUNITIES SEE MODERN PSYCHIATRY, DAMMIT. The author could have mentioned faith healing as per Orthodox communities! it would have fit so neatly into the story! But no. Avoidance of conflict, character development and establishing the worldview of Orthodox--everything this book said it would do--is the name of the game.
This book raised a lot of really serious issues, and DID NOTHING WITH THEM. What was the author -thinking-? And DON'T "orthodox blahblah" me. I googled all the stuff I was furious about to make sure I hadn't missed anything, and stand by my opinions.
If you want to learn about ultra-Orthodox Judaism, the movie "Fill the Void" is about an eighteen-year-old who has to decide whether or not to marry her brother-in-law after her sister tragically dies. I was so upset the first two times I tried to watch it beyond the sister dying, that I turned it off super early into the movie. Even reading the wikipedia summary made me cry! It's a movie that won a ton of awards because of how accurately and sensitively it portrayed ultra-Orthodox Judaism and because the storytelling was so good. Unlike this book, which tells me nothing and is poorly written. EDIT 4/10/22: I finished "Fill the Void" tonight. I understood the environment of this book so much more after watching "Fill the Void." My opinion of the book still stands, word-for-word.
Aviva's mom apparently has agoraphobia and depression, but it's so vague, like everything else in this freaking book, that I didn't pick up on it at all. It's framed like neglect and honestly, sleeping all the time can be a lot of different diseases or medication. Many diseases or medication that have people sleeping all the time can also make it hard for them to leave the house for a variety of reasons. I honestly thought Aviva going into foster care was going to be a plot point. No, Aviva's mom just...stays neglectful really, until a friend blames herself for letting Aviva's mom get sick. What? I don't know. "The Hunger Games" did this WAAAAY better: the main character also had a mother who was depressed over the death of her husband, and the main character had to take care of her family as a result. She actively worries they'll have to go into the community home, as foster care is known in that world. She thinks about her mom and notes stuff on their relationship, and on her mom's relationship to her dad. AND SHE TALKS ABOUT HER DAD. It's clearly stated when and how he died, how much he influenced Katniss, and how her life changed. Aviva does NONE of those things. She uhms and uhhh's her way through it. At the end of the book, it's suggested that her dad died in an anti-Semitic attack and...the author approached and wrote this in a way that just had me shaking my head.
I don't know if Aviva liked her dad. Aviva clearly dislikes her mother and resents her for becoming mentally ill. I know nothing on Aviva's parents' marriage. Was it arranged? Did they like each other? It's suggested they got along as partners and raised Aviva well. SUGGESTING THINGS AND HINTING IS ALLLL THIS BOOK DOES. UGH. Aviva bristles at the idea of her and her mom accepting any charity after her father's death, and is understandably in tears after a girl is cruel to her about her family's situation. The girl says the only reason Aviva's mom has a job running the older, smaller, less popular mikvah is because the community feels sorry for her. Awful, awful. I was kind of surprised Aviva didn't lash out in some way. There's some conflict between her and her former best friend, a different girl. It could have been interesting, but the author favors blandness and skipping right to conflict being resolved in the next paragraph.
Aviva doesn't even think of stopping the dybbuk until the sixty-five percent mark of the book, despite the title suggesting this would be the whole plot! And he's kind of defeated by...Jell-o? What? Can you get food poisoning from Jell-o? EDIT: No, not unless it's weeks old. PLOT FALLS APART.
If handwritten clues were stuck inside Jell-o, how did the ink not wash off? Jell-o is water-based! But dybbuk, Aviva repeatedly states, are defeated by an affected person reciting the Kaddish. Kaddish is recited frequently. Like, multiple times per prayer service in some places. Avvia doesn't point any of this out because ooh, that would be a plot hole. In some branches of Judaism, it's recited every day for a month. Ooh, plot hole. In Orthodox circles, the rules are different because there's restrictions on women and girls reciting it. Does Aviva mention this? No. Does she reflect on what it means for her? No. It's just a boring yet over the top scene of the dybbuk trashing the synagogue while she davens. Where is her rabbi in this, anyway? She could reach out to him about -everything-, but she doesn't. She can reach out to a teacher, and have the teacher be proactive! The teacher wasn't really. What a waste. And that's true to life that teachers do ignore kids at times, but still. She could read the Kabbalah. I knew an Orthodox woman who was well-versed in it. Rare, but it would have been even more interesting here!
The plot twist around the dybbuk was infuriatingly stupid. The destructive acts performed by Aviva and the fact she kept getting kicked out of class were totally ignored. She was allowed to get away with so, so much. EVERYONE enabled her behavior. No one got her or her mother psychiatric care, and it was never mentioned why! MENTION HOW ORTHODOX COMMUNITIES SEE MODERN PSYCHIATRY, DAMMIT. The author could have mentioned faith healing as per Orthodox communities! it would have fit so neatly into the story! But no. Avoidance of conflict, character development and establishing the worldview of Orthodox--everything this book said it would do--is the name of the game.
This book raised a lot of really serious issues, and DID NOTHING WITH THEM. What was the author -thinking-? And DON'T "orthodox blahblah" me. I googled all the stuff I was furious about to make sure I hadn't missed anything, and stand by my opinions.
If you want to learn about ultra-Orthodox Judaism, the movie "Fill the Void" is about an eighteen-year-old who has to decide whether or not to marry her brother-in-law after her sister tragically dies. I was so upset the first two times I tried to watch it beyond the sister dying, that I turned it off super early into the movie. Even reading the wikipedia summary made me cry! It's a movie that won a ton of awards because of how accurately and sensitively it portrayed ultra-Orthodox Judaism and because the storytelling was so good. Unlike this book, which tells me nothing and is poorly written. EDIT 4/10/22: I finished "Fill the Void" tonight. I understood the environment of this book so much more after watching "Fill the Void." My opinion of the book still stands, word-for-word.
August 17, 2022
This was a pretty quick read for me, and I really loved it. The engagement with the way trauma effects your experience of reality was really lovely, and really resonated.
May 3, 2022
I won this book in a Goodreads giveaway.
It is rare that you read a book whose final resolution makes you immediately reread it again with a new understanding, but this is one.
Betsy Bird of the School Library Journal has done such a good review of this book I see no better way than to link to her review.
https://afuse8production.slj.com/2022...
It is rare that you read a book whose final resolution makes you immediately reread it again with a new understanding, but this is one.
Betsy Bird of the School Library Journal has done such a good review of this book I see no better way than to link to her review.
https://afuse8production.slj.com/2022...
November 19, 2023
2.5 to 3. There was a lot I think I missed because of the cultural vocabulary used (since I was listening to the audiobook). I liked the ideas of working through problems, community, and overcoming adversity.
January 17, 2024
A completely gorgeous Middle Grade book about trauma and grief.
August 24, 2022
While I appreciated the setting of a culture different from most of my kids', I did not really enjoy the book. Part of it might have been the tiny type. And the ending! Good god, people. Get some therapy. It was NOT ok to go along with the ruse.
November 14, 2023
I did a reread tonight in preparation for Lowe's next book coming out tomorrow, and it holds up wonderfully on a reread!
July 19, 2022
This is a deeply impressive book that contends compassionately (and magically) with debilitating grief, navigating immediate and intergenerational trauma, and exploring neurodivergence in all of its strengths and challenges.
Aviva, whose age is not specified but is likely 11-12, is grappling with the loss of her father, her mother's depression, her struggles with social life and friendship on top of schoolwork and sports, and a mischievous dybbuk growing ever-more destructive to her life, home, and mikvah. Lowe does an amazing job of integrating everyday elements of Jewish life in a friendly way that also avoids NPR's "explanatory comma;" centering the story not on gawking at Orthodox traditions but instead allowing them to be the backdrop for Aviva's journey, and conditions of antisemitic hostility and violence are dealt with head-on without compromising Aviva's believability as a child with limited information.
Beyond all of this, I appreciated the gentleness of this novel. It is a story of grief and pain that frequently hit me in the emotions, but it was also a book of immense care. Of community members who may not always like each other, but always love each other. Of mistakes and redemption. Truly, of tikkun olam, the world-healing many of us place at the forefront of our spiritual and political lives. In Aviva, like in our world, healing is not complete, it is not the complete erasure of trauma. It is not forgetting, even when forgetting seems easiest. Healing is remembering, and sharing in the pain of remembrance with those who have lived and loved through it. It's not about full recovery, it's about holding and being held. All young (and not young!) readers will benefit from this compassionate and brilliantly imperfect (Eli Clare) story.
Aviva, whose age is not specified but is likely 11-12, is grappling with the loss of her father, her mother's depression, her struggles with social life and friendship on top of schoolwork and sports, and a mischievous dybbuk growing ever-more destructive to her life, home, and mikvah. Lowe does an amazing job of integrating everyday elements of Jewish life in a friendly way that also avoids NPR's "explanatory comma;" centering the story not on gawking at Orthodox traditions but instead allowing them to be the backdrop for Aviva's journey, and conditions of antisemitic hostility and violence are dealt with head-on without compromising Aviva's believability as a child with limited information.
Beyond all of this, I appreciated the gentleness of this novel. It is a story of grief and pain that frequently hit me in the emotions, but it was also a book of immense care. Of community members who may not always like each other, but always love each other. Of mistakes and redemption. Truly, of tikkun olam, the world-healing many of us place at the forefront of our spiritual and political lives. In Aviva, like in our world, healing is not complete, it is not the complete erasure of trauma. It is not forgetting, even when forgetting seems easiest. Healing is remembering, and sharing in the pain of remembrance with those who have lived and loved through it. It's not about full recovery, it's about holding and being held. All young (and not young!) readers will benefit from this compassionate and brilliantly imperfect (Eli Clare) story.
July 29, 2022
An exceptionally good middle-grade book that deals with grief and middle-school cliques and the difficulty of maintaining a friendship when your life is falling apart. Really, Lowe did an amazing job with this book--it is about VERY sad stuff but the book itself is not super sad. It is very, very Jewish in the most specific way, which is its own perfect thing in the MG space--though really this specificity is necessary in the world of books for adults also. I just loved Aviva so much. And god, Aviva's mother and the many ways she fails--that was a hard mirror to look into. And though Lowe never lets Ema off the hook for the ways her own grief and depression take her away from Aviva, she does suggest a path toward redemption that feels true to life without magically waving a wand to fix something that is fundamentally unfixable. Because sometimes things go wrong in life and they can never be fixed. What a miracle of a book to let kids glimpse those kinds of events without listing into hopelessness or melodrama. I cannot recommend this enough!
October 22, 2022
I had to sit with my thoughts before I could write a review for Aviva vs the Dybbuk. Aviva is such a well-written character and her pain and fear just seep from the pages. With the loss, she felt and the horror she saw at such a young age, it makes complete sense that Dybbuk exists.
When we first meet Aviva after she has run away to see if her mom would care, that was heartbreaking enough, but once you think about it after learning everything she has been through, it makes sense how lost this little girl was.
I appreciate children's books that show kids that adults are not perfect. If kids can see an adult not being able to understand her grief, hopefully, it lets them know that they do not have to make sense of it either.
There is a lot going on in this novel even though it is on the shorter side, but it is not overwhelming. It all comes together in a way that there are no loose ends.
When we first meet Aviva after she has run away to see if her mom would care, that was heartbreaking enough, but once you think about it after learning everything she has been through, it makes sense how lost this little girl was.
I appreciate children's books that show kids that adults are not perfect. If kids can see an adult not being able to understand her grief, hopefully, it lets them know that they do not have to make sense of it either.
There is a lot going on in this novel even though it is on the shorter side, but it is not overwhelming. It all comes together in a way that there are no loose ends.
October 30, 2022
A whole lot of story -- trauma, healing, mystery, supernatural creatures, Orthodox Judaism, middle school parties -- in a very compact book. People complaining that non-Jewish readers will be lost are precious. There's literally a glossary in the back, plus google exists AND kids have no trouble following complex fantasy worlds where domestic cats battle each other for the throne. I bought this for my library based on Betsy Bird's recommendation and as usual it didn't disappoint.
May 23, 2022
well. i’m crying
August 5, 2022
This middle grade novel was written in 2022 by "Mari Lowe" (the pen name of an Orthodox Jewish teacher in the New York area). The narrator is Aviva, a sixth-grader who lives with Ema (her mother) above the smaller mikvah of their Orthodox neighborhood. Neither of them has recovered from the death of Aviva's father several years earlier. Ema doesn't always get out of bed, and often just stares into space. While Aviva excels at playing machanayim, she has no friends, and her former best friend Kayla has become her enemy. The neighborhood is plagued by antisemitic vandalism, and their home is haunted by a dybbuk (poltergeist). That's the premise. To make a long story short, Aviva and Kayla are forced to work together, and they start to rekindle their friendship, but the presence of the dybbuk is a constant threat. I wasn't so happy with the way the author ended the book, but I understand why she did it. Anyway, it was interesting to read a novel in which all the characters are Orthodox Jewish girls and women. (It gets points for having a glossary of Jewish terms.) And it gives a sympathetic portrayal of clinical depression and the dilemmas of family and community in dealing with it. I first heard of Aviva vs the Dybbuk when it received a one-sentence review in The New York Times Book Review earlier this year (https://www.nytimes.com/2022/02/18/bo...). Unusual!
January 25, 2023
I listened to the audio version of this as part of my Newbery prediction readathon. This was a very emotionally moving story of a girl, Aviva, who lost her father when she was six years old and it tells the story of how deeply that loss affected her for years. Her mother is dealing with debilitating depression and cannot be the support Aviva so desperately needs.
The Jewish community Aviva and her mother belong to are a big part of this story. As a non-Jewish person I feel like I learned quite a bit about another culture while also building empathy for people suffering through depression.
I'm not sure this is a story that I will recommend to my girls simply because it is quite sad, but there's nothing about it that I disapprove of.
The Jewish community Aviva and her mother belong to are a big part of this story. As a non-Jewish person I feel like I learned quite a bit about another culture while also building empathy for people suffering through depression.
I'm not sure this is a story that I will recommend to my girls simply because it is quite sad, but there's nothing about it that I disapprove of.
December 20, 2022
I understand what the Dybbuk is supposed to be, but there's a strange idea here that multiple adults are lying to a kid about a fictional monster that only she can see rather than getting her therapy or engaging with the actual issues. I like the attention to the Jewish community and using a setting in children's literature that is not commonly explored, but I felt the main plot was either predictable with her circle of friends or baffling on how Aviva and her mom decide to handle grief. This just didn't work well for me.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
January 3, 2023
An absolute top contender for this year's Newbery Medal for best middle grade fiction work. Lowe pulls off a really astonishing work of allegory and folklore carefully positioned as a contemporary tale of grief and loss. The title and the cover have made it challenging to use with Reader's Advisory for the younger set but if it wins the awards to get some shiny medals on the cover, it will be an easier recommendation to get across. Please do give it a chance yourself.
June 23, 2022
Aviva's life changed when her father died in the “accident”; not only do she and her mother have to leave their home to live over the mikvah (ritual bath in Orthodox Judaism) where her mother works, but a dybbuk now lives with them, causing trouble that is often blamed on Aviva.
August 10, 2022
I really enjoyed reading this book to Sarah. It was a great take on the legend of the dybbuk and how the layers of trauma build on one another to do lasting harm. Aviva is an excellent protagonist--damaged, brave, and unreliable. The specificity that some readers found off-putting was one of the book's strengths, I thought. It was uninterested in explaining the ins and outs of Conservative Judaism, but provided a glossary at the back (why these things are not pointed out in a note at the beginning, I'll never know), and expected the reader to keep up with the rhythms and Yiddish/Hebrew words that were dropped. The revelations at the end felt true and earned and Aviva's mom felt like a person that has disappeared in grief (with the attendant neglect that comes with depression). The depiction of the community was beautiful in its quiet support for Aviva and her mother. This is rambly, and I apologize. It's an excellent book—high recommendation.
February 11, 2023
I love a story with an unreliable narrator and great twist at the end. This didn’t disappoint. The protagonist and her mother are Jews who are supported by a loving community as they deal with the death of a father. Layered in the story is a girl who has lost a friend, has ADHD, and a mom with depression. The cultural aspects add depth as well . Highly recommended for upper elementary and middle school.
October 1, 2023
A magical Jewish fairytale and a beautiful story of that weird Bat Mitzvah age, grief, and girlhood. My Jewish experience is so different from that of the characters in this story and yet the depictions and familiarity still felt warm.
October 28, 2022
4 stars because the ending felt rushed to me. But otherwise, this is an excellent book.
April 21, 2022
Although “Aviva vs. the Dybbuk” by Mari Lowe (Levine Querido) is aimed at tween readers, it packed a powerful punch for this adult. Life has not been easy for Aviva and her mother since Aviva’s father died. The two live in an apartment over the mikvah where they moved after they could no longer afford their house.
See the rest of my review at https://www.thereportergroup.org/past...
See the rest of my review at https://www.thereportergroup.org/past...
April 22, 2023
It isn’t often that you come across a book with an Orthodox Jew as the main character. This story shines a light on a culture that many of us have no experience with, and opens up that world to the reader. Reading as an adult the dybbuk isn’t much of a surprise, but I wonder what the experience of a young reader would be.
December 28, 2022
This middle grade fiction explores loss through the eyes of Aviva, a 12 year old Orthodox Jew. It is a story of dealing with her father’s death and her mother’s depression while weaving in folklore of Jewish spirits. Really interesting read to understand another culture, while also addressing themes of friendship, prejudice, and mental health.
July 31, 2023
Beautiful book about a culture I haven’t explored much. Avila is growing up in a misunderstood culture. She and her mother have faced tragedy. They’re trying to do their best to keep going but that’s hard when you’re haunted by a dybbuk. The author did a fantastic job with helping the reader understand a less familiar culture. It was a quick but lovely read.
May 12, 2024
This is a really sweet book that deals a lot with childhood friendship and trauma. I love the representation of Aviva’s life in an orthodox Jewish community
December 31, 2022
Very distinctly Jewish setting that tells the story of a girl who lost her father 5 years earlier and now is struggling to make friends while worrying about her mother who is also barely functioning. She’s been seeing a dybbuk who regularly wrecks havoc at the mikvah where her mom works and above which they live. When she gets in trouble for throwing a ball very aggressively at her former best friend while playing a very popular game at her Jewish school, she and the other girl are banned from playing and instead must plan the upcoming sixth-graders’ bat mitzvah party together. It’s a story of loss, denial and suppression of feelings, community, friendship and healing in a setting I’ve never experienced before.
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