TINOCCHIA

Leviant imagines a puppet brought to life in 19th-century Italy in this postmodern fairy tale.

You’ve heard of Pinocchio—but what about Tinocchia? Tinocchia is a puppetta—a girl puppet—carved from magical pine by the Italian Jewish woodworker Yossi, a friend of Pinocchio’s creator, Geppetto. Tinocchia’s name is a pun on the appellation of Geppetto’s famous puppet and the Hebrew word for baby, tinok. Yossi raises his magical puppetta to speak both Hebrew and Italian and to appreciate the wonders of nature. He teaches her to observe Jewish holidays such Purim and Hanukkah, though the menorah candles make the wooden girl rather uncomfortable. One day, while playing outside with her friend Table (who is a table), Tinocchia encounters another puppet like herself. “He was a bit older than me and somewhat taller. He had a perky face and a cute, longish, pointy nose.” When she asks him his name, he tells her he is Nipocchio…and his nose begins to grow. Here, finally, is the puppetta’s famous counterpart: Geppetto’s “son,” Pinocchio, the perfect friend for Tinocchia. Together they go on several adventures, encountering frogs, dogs, and giant fish and attending the Commedia del Arte and the famous Palio di Siena horse race. Along the way, Tinocchia auditions for and performs in the Purim play at her synagogue and has several encounters with Samael, the Angel of Death, who wants to take Tinocchia away to puppet heaven but proves amenable to negotiation. Will Tinocchia ever turn into a real girl, the way Pinocchio (or at least the fictional Pinocchio, from the storybook based on her new friend) does at the end of his journey? Does Tinocchia even want to be a real girl at all?

Leviant presents the book as a manuscript discovered in a library in Siena and translated from Italian. As a result, the story is augmented here and there with footnotes and metafictional devices—including a few that poke fun at author Carlo Collodi and his original The Adventures of Pinocchio novel. Puns abound, some of them wince-inducing (the forest Yossi takes Tinocchia to includes trees with names like the “carpentree,” the “artistree,” and the “poetree”). Though the story is conveyed in simple language, the author finds ways to inject larger ideas, such as this bit of puppet existentialism, voiced by Pinocchio following a viewing of Punch and Judy: “Even though Geppetto says we’re marionettes we’re not marionettes, for they’re manipulated by people and strings and we’re not. And we’re not hand-held puppets either, like Punch and Judy. You and me, Tinocchia, we’re unique. Nobody can tell us what to do.” Even so, it’s difficult to imagine contemporary children finding much delight in this episodic and highly ironic pastiche. Neither is it quite arch enough to captivate an older, literary audience. Occasional illustrations by Chefitz, Deerman, and Spero brighten the text, but they’re poorly formatted. The theme of Judaism is pronounced—the book contains the entirety of the Purim play script—but its placement is somewhat puzzling.

A sequel of sorts to the classic The Adventures of Pinocchio that never quite establishes its reason for being.