Customer Reviews

Stories for Children

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Over the years I've read this book to my daughter several times. As most children, she has her favorites and never tires of those. You've got demons and witches and holy men who fight evil. You've got moral lessons that teach without preaching. All written with compassion and a deft hand. Adventure abounds. Excitement rules the day. You'll find yourself speaking with a Yiddish accent in spite of yourself! And, me, an African American woman! Good books know no color. Pure magic.

I had read Isaac Bashevis Singer in high school and enjoyed him. I picked up Stories for Children at the library and read it to myself straight through and found it very enjoyable. I thought my 4 and 5 year old might like it too so I read Zlateh the Goat since we're getting a lot of snow. You have to understand that basically the author has transcribed oral legend onto paper. It's the difference between reading Shakespeare and watching Hollywood doing Henry V. I have never so vividly experienced this as when I read the this story to the kids. They were rolling on the floor when the goat says Maaaa. At the end of the story the author ends one word short. Both kids shouted it out. I completely missed it when I read the book to myself silently.

Although this set of 36 stories is recommended for reading level 4 to 8 years old, Singer would rightly say that story tellers "write not only for children but also for their parents, they too are serious children." Singer considers children as the best readers of genuine literature, by nature inclined to mysticism, and with their own particular logic and clarity they rely on nothing but their own taste. With an array of supernaturral characters (devils, gnomes, hobgoblings, prophets, imps, saints, and demons) Singer fulfils a mosaic of fantastic imagination, colored by a rich folklore, addressing moral issues that concern the child and the adult as well. Stories such as "Zlateh the Goat," "Popiel and Tekla," "The Power of Light," amongst others, have a universal appeal because they address eternal questions. For Singer, now matter how young a child might be, he is a philosopher and seeker of God. An adult will surely enjoy these tales, and if he can share them with a child then his pleasure will be doubled!

I sometimes read these to my sick and elderly dad at bed time. He loves them. When he's not doing well, is worried about his health, is afraid to close his eyes, the stories work their magic. As I read, he sometimes clucks, murmers "oh, yes," and makes other happy and endearing sounds--just great to hear. If he's still awake at the end, he goes to sleep, fearlessly, with a smile on his face.

As Singer noted in his 1984 Foreword, "in the beginning was the Logos, the power of the word." He had never believed he could write for children, but editor Elizabeth Shub convinced him otherwise in the early 1960s. Twelve volumes of children's books followed, from which these 36 tales are gleaned. Young readers should remain eternally grateful.

This collection opens in Chelm, the village of idiots young and old. Even the people have funny names--Gronam Ox, Dopey Lekisch, Zeinvel Ninny, Shmendrick Numskull and Feyvel Thickwit. The way they speak and act is still funnier.

Gronam, for example, would have been a happy man, but for the elders who regularly visited--to whom he regularly spoke nonsense. His first wife Genendel would reproach him, to which he replied, "In the future, whenever you hear me saying something silly, come into the room and let me know. I will immediately change the subject."

She refused. "If they learn you're a fool, you'll lose your job as head of the council." Instead, each time he said anything silly, she offered to hand him the key to their strongbox. "Then you'll know you've been talking like a fool."

That year, the town met with a scarcity of sour cream, which was sorely needed for the coming Pentecost, a holiday on which the townsfolk normally ate a lot of it. Gronam had the solution. He proposed making "a law that water is to be called sour cream, and sour cream is to be called water." Given the wells full of water, he noted, all the women would have barrels full of sour cream as a result.

Sender Donkey, Treitel Fool and their most foolish compatriots all heartily approved. So the new law was written. But Genendel shortly appeared with the strongbox key. When Gronam explained their arrangement, the elders grew enraged. How dare a woman suggest she knew better when wisdom or silliness had been spoken.

They in turn changed another law: When Genendel believed Gronam's pronouncements silly, she should give the elders the strongbox key and let them decide. If they disagreed, she would double their portions of blintzes, cakes and tea. From that day forward, Gronam spoke freely, and Genendel hardly said a word: She was not about to serve blintzes generously.

Then there is Shlemiel, also of the fabled Chelm, and as fine a businessman as the town could offer. He married Mrs. Shlemiel, whose father gave him a dowry, with which he bought a goat in Lublin. But en route home, he left the goat tethered to a tree while he went into an inn for some brandy, chopped liver and onions and a plate of chicken soup and noodles. The innkeeper (not surprisingly) switched his old blind billy goat for Shlemiel's milking goat. Lots more fun and some Chelmnick wisdom followed.

Readers also encounter "Shrewd Todie and Lyzer the Miser." The former had a wife Shaindel and seven children and never earned enough to feed them. He had such poor luck working at trades that he decided if he should make candles, the sun would never set. During an especially cold winter, Shaindel told Todie that if he could not get something to eat, she would go to the Rabbi and get a divorce. "And what will you do with it," he asked her. "Eat it?"

Lyzer meanwhile was so stingy, he'd let his wife bake bread but once every four weeks: Stale bread was eaten more slowly than fresh. He left his poor goats to feast on his neighbors' thatched roofs, rather than feed them. He preferred to eat his dry bread and borscht on a box so that his upholstered chairs would not wear out. And he never made a loan, preferring to keep his money in his strongbox.

One day, Todie asked Lyzer to borrow a silver spoon, promising he would return it the next. Not one to doubt holy words, Lyzer loaned the spoon and was pleased the next day when Todie returned it, plus a silver teaspoon, explaining that the spoon had given birth. Todie was honest, and had to return both. He repeated the exercise twice more.

At last, Todie came to Lyzer to borrow silver Shabbat candlesticks, which Lyzer gladly loaned. Todie sold the candlesticks, bought his wife and seven children a feast and on Sunday, returned to Lyzer, reporting that his candlesticks had died. "You fool! How can candlesticks die," Lyzer screamed, dragging Todie to the Rabbi. "Did you expect candlesticks to give birth?" the Rabbi asked. "If you accept nonsense that brings you profit, you must also accept nonsense when it brings you loss."

Others stories are less silly. We meet Peziza the imp who lived with her friend Tsirtsur the cricket an old stove, where they shared gay, devilish, frightening, and delightful stories on long winter nights.

And Rabbi Leib, who escaped the evil works of Cunegunde, a witch whose son Bolvan robbed the merchants on the roads and hid his stolen hoard in an invisible cave--rendered by his mother's evil magic.

My favorite is "Zlateh the Goat." Rueven instructed his son Aaron to take his pet to the butcher to pay for the struggling family's Hanukkah feast. Heartbroken, the heartbroken boy heeded his father and set out, but was overtaken by a snowstorm. I cannot tell what happened, but the tale warms hearts to the core.

Like all Singer's work--these 36 agile stories offer spirit, life and the supernatural--with humor glinting at their edges. Children love them, be they young or old.

--Alyssa A. Lappen

I enjoy reading these stories to my kids as much as they enjoy listening to them. These are truly wonderful and riveting stories by a master, who's as comfortable writing about the old country as he is describing quaint Jewish life in Manhattan as an immigrant. Diverse, enchanting tales of everyday life, here and there, of magic and supernatural heroes of the shtetl, and of the all-knowing people and elders of Chelm. All told, the stories are the story. One caveat: a few of these stories have sexual allusions which may be (or should be) beyond the grasp of kids under 10, though most of these stories can be enjoyed even by single-digit young people.

This book is SUCH fun. I laugh until I'm threatened with incontinence when "The Day I Got Lost" describes the day of Professor Schlemiel's surprise birthday party and his schlemiel dog!!!! A collection of vignettes set both in Poland's prewar ghettoes and the recent in NY Upper East side. Funny, poignant and wonderful. I have my own copy and have BEFORE my kids were born, but have purchased copies for many loved ones and associates. He's gone, it's true - but his stories live on and on in this classic and in ALL his works. Singer correctly states how the Bible stories are the best for entertaining youngsters since they all have beginnings , middles and endings an he cut his teeth on these same stories. Who cannot love the crickets, dybuks and goats named Zlateh? One needn't be a Jew to love Singer's 'Stories for Children'. An aging Italian lady can be an ardent fan just as easily - and IS one.