Two Negative Reviews of Hereville
Okay, the title is an exaggeration — in fact, the first review is a positive review, and the second review is very negative, but has positive aspects (the writer says she enjoyed Hereville and is hoping for a sequel). These are, however, the two most critical reviews of Hereville I’ve read so far, which makes them interesting!
At The Whole Megillah, reviewer Barbara Krasner wrote an enormously positive review of Hereville, saying “This is the type of book a child (or adult) could read again and again and again without an ounce of boredom.” That’s what I like hearing! But she also wonders if Orthodox readers will be offended by Hereville.
That’s something I’ve worried about quite a lot. All I can say is that I’ve tried my best to be respectful (without being lifeless), and the reactions from Orthodox readers I’ve heard have been extremely positive. However, it’s of course possible that an Orthodox reader who was offended would choose not to contact me, so my “sample” may be biased.
Barbara also wondered about my Yiddish — specifically, “is it really ‘bistu’ or is it really ‘bist du?'” Barbara thinks it should probably be two words. My answer: I don’t know! The particular Yiddish-English dictionary I consulted said “bistu,” but one thing I quickly learned while writing Hereville is that Yiddish-English dictionaries frequently disagree on how Yiddish words should be spelled in English.
At Comic Attack, reviewer Daniella Orihuela-Gruber (who usually blogs at All About Manga) wrote:
I like Hereville overall, but as a Jew myself, I felt a little uncomfortable with a number of things.
First of all, the town of Hereville is essentially a shtetl, or a small town with a completely or near-completely Jewish population. Schtetls have more or less ceased to exist after World War II. Now, there are certainly large Jewish neighborhoods in cities or towns with a majority of Jews in them, but a town that is completely ultra-Orthodox…? Where it’s actually banned to read non-Jewish books and to have pigs? Maybe in Israel. (I don’t think Hereville is in Israel. Too much forest.) Ultra-Orthodox communities are still very insular, but I’ve never seen a community this cut off to the point where the kids don’t know what a pig looks like and they’ve never met a non-Jewish person before. If this had been a pre-Holocaust shtetl, I think I’d believe the isolation and homogenized local culture.
Second is the way Mirka behaves. Yes, she is capable of her own thoughts, will stand up to whatever torments her and kick its ass, but at the same time Mirka lets her sister bully her into submission so she won’t harm her family’s reputation and her sisters become unable to find good husbands. I realize that this is where my much more liberal Jewish beliefs clash with ultra-Orthodox ones, but it’s more than the fact that I think it’s dumb for an 11-year-old to think so seriously of marriage. Either way, Mirka is forced by those she’s closest with into keeping her adventures quiet.
There’s more — head over to Comic Attack to read the full review.
I don’t think it’s wise for creators to debate with reviews, so I won’t respond to Daniella’s criticisms. But I appreciated that she took the time to read and respond to Hereville, and I hope she does like the sequel better, when it comes out.
8 Responses to “Two Negative Reviews of Hereville”
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Hi there!
Thank you for the link, but most importantly: YAY! There’s going to be a sequel to Hereville! I am looking forward to Mirka realizing her dream more and perhaps gaining acceptance in her community. (That’s all I really wanted from the first book & it wasn’t clear there was going to be more!)
Oh another note, my Yiddish speaking family members also spelled the words differently than you did in Hereville, so I easily got quite confused when words I thought I knew were spelled so differently. I was particularly stumped by “khale”, which people I knew always spelled “challeh”.
Hi there!
Thank you for the link, but most importantly: YAY! There’s going to be a sequel to Hereville! I am looking forward to Mirka realizing her dream more and perhaps gaining acceptance in her community. (That’s all I really wanted from the first book & it wasn’t clear there was going to be more!)
Oh another note, my Yiddish speaking family members also spelled the words differently than you did in Hereville, so I easily got quite confused when words I thought I knew were spelled so differently. I was particularly stumped by “khale”, which people I knew always spelled “challeh”.
Thanks, Daniella!
Without giving away any spoilers, Mirka might gain more acceptance in her community — but it’ll never be a 100% thing. Some conflicts never fully go away.
There are a zillion different ways of spelling Yiddish in English! All the spellings I used came from one of the Yiddish-English dictionaries I have, but even they don’t agree. In hindsight, though, I probably should have gone with the more-recognizable spelling for “challeh.”
Thanks, Daniella!
Without giving away any spoilers, Mirka might gain more acceptance in her community — but it’ll never be a 100% thing. Some conflicts never fully go away.
There are a zillion different ways of spelling Yiddish in English! All the spellings I used came from one of the Yiddish-English dictionaries I have, but even they don’t agree. In hindsight, though, I probably should have gone with the more-recognizable spelling for “challeh.”
That is exciting news. (I mean, you wouldn’t have much of a story if there wasn’t a conflict and you can’t win over everyone, so…)
I think Yiddish is a particularly difficult language. Hebrew is hard to transliterate into English and German has some ridiculous manner of spelling I’ve never been able to understand either, so my theory is that Yiddish is too crazy things like spelling.
That is exciting news. (I mean, you wouldn’t have much of a story if there wasn’t a conflict and you can’t win over everyone, so…)
I think Yiddish is a particularly difficult language. Hebrew is hard to transliterate into English and German has some ridiculous manner of spelling I’ve never been able to understand either, so my theory is that Yiddish is too crazy things like spelling.
I believe Yiddish spelling (in Roman letters) has been somewhat standardized by YIVO (http://www.yivoinstitute.org), but that’s a recent thing. Leo Rosten (in “The Joys of Yiddish” has his own opinions… I don’t know how much he and YIVO agree.
As for “bistu” being two words: IMHO, either is fine. That sort of concatenation is common in Germanic languages, including English — it’s how we got “don’t” and “zounds” (originally “God’s wounds”) and “nostril” (originally Old English for “nose hole”) and thousands of other words. In Dutch, the everyday word “alstublieft” comes to mind, from “als het u blieft” — meaning “please” (“if it please you”).
Regarding Mirka’s shtetl: Need we be reminded that this is a work of fiction? It reminds me of Winnie the Pooh’s Hundred Acre Wood: Based in reality, but wholly in the country of fantasy. If you really feel a need to find a modern-day equivalent, consider Kiryas Joel (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kiryas_Joel,_New_York) in upstate New York, a Chasidic settlement where 89% of the population speaks Yiddish at home.
I believe Yiddish spelling (in Roman letters) has been somewhat standardized by YIVO (http://www.yivoinstitute.org), but that’s a recent thing. Leo Rosten (in “The Joys of Yiddish” has his own opinions… I don’t know how much he and YIVO agree.
As for “bistu” being two words: IMHO, either is fine. That sort of concatenation is common in Germanic languages, including English — it’s how we got “don’t” and “zounds” (originally “God’s wounds”) and “nostril” (originally Old English for “nose hole”) and thousands of other words. In Dutch, the everyday word “alstublieft” comes to mind, from “als het u blieft” — meaning “please” (“if it please you”).
Regarding Mirka’s shtetl: Need we be reminded that this is a work of fiction? It reminds me of Winnie the Pooh’s Hundred Acre Wood: Based in reality, but wholly in the country of fantasy. If you really feel a need to find a modern-day equivalent, consider Kiryas Joel (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kiryas_Joel,_New_York) in upstate New York, a Chasidic settlement where 89% of the population speaks Yiddish at home.