Eighth grader Ellen’s approaching bat mitzvah prompts questions about identity, friendship, family—and kindness.
Ellen, a Jewish girl in Brooklyn, doesn’t always have the time for her friends’ drama—or their real fears. She’s cranky about the frequent absences of her mom, a famous heart surgeon. Annoying Aunt Debbie overzealously plans Ellen a much-too-fancy bat mitzvah, so Ellen avoids her. Irritating classmate Allegra horns in on Ellen’s Hebrew school classes, and Ellen can’t stop griping about her. Does all this make her mean? Sure, she’s intolerant of her parents’ arguments, but she’s a great big sister to 5-year-old Hannah: They play with Hannah’s dolls, sign together about Hannah’s trips to the park and Ellen’s day at school, and go together to Hannah’s cochlear-implant doctor so Hannah won’t be scared. (The controversies around cochlear implants within the Deaf and hard of hearing community, of which narrator Ellen is presumably unaware, are not addressed.) And while Ellen’s not great at patience with her friend Ducks’ worries about dating his first boy, she totally wants to help him get together with her “Call of Duty” buddy Charlie. Bat mitzvah prep prompts Ellen to contemplate approaching womanhood. Can she gain generosity of spirit even if she remains instinctively judgmental? The pace of her philosophizing isn’t for every reader, but her pensive journey delivers a well-earned conclusion.
Coming-of-age as a ceremony makes a rewarding frame for the protagonist’s journey.
(Fiction. 10-13)\