Sugared almonds, lemon tea, and fresh bagels

[dolorosa_12]

I've written up a review of one of my most beloved childhood books, The Girls in the Velvet Frame, by Adèle Geras. This is a work of historical children's fiction, a meandering, gentle, emotionally affecting story of a widowed mother and her five daughters, and a beautiful portrait of life in 1913 Jerusalem. One of the things I've always loved about it is its depiction of a world and community in which Jewishness is normative — and its assumption (even though it was published by a major British publisher, and aimed at a British readership of children which was not necessarily majority Jewish) that its readership, if not Jewish, would be perfectly fine working things out from context. (Certainly that was my experience as a small non-Jewish child when I read the book for the first time.)

On top of all that, the book has one of the features of older children's fiction which I most enjoy: lots and lots of descriptions of food. It's not on the level of, say, Enid Blyton — it's more that the book takes place mainly indoors, in kitchens and around dining room tables (and one character works in a bakery), and so food preparation, and eating, tends to be happening at key points in the narrative.

It's also probably the book that set me up for a lifetime of searching for fiction which recognised that the unglamorous, unrecognised work and experiences of girls and women — the parts which didn't seem important to men, and which often went unnoticed — were, for the individuals concerned, extremely important, and worthy of being told as a story:

The Girls in the Velvet Frame is a celebration of the quiet, powerful, ordinary lives and work of girls and women: cooking, cleaning, caring for smaller children, stretching every last penny (there’s lots of discussion of hand-me-down dresses, bathing in the kitchen so as not to waste hot water, and so on). This work is at the heart of the story, and is given the dignity and primacy that it would have had (and still does have) in millions of similar women’s lives.

You can read the full review over here, at dolorosa12. As always, I welcome discussion both here on Dreamwidth, or at the original post.

Comments

[regshoe]

Lovely review—thank you for sharing! I also love fiction, especially historical fiction, that focusses on girls' and women's lives in their quiet, mundane everyday detail—sometimes around the edges of a larger or more adventurous story, sometimes as the obvious background to a quieter domestic plot—and this sounds highly relevant to my interests. And, recently having read Selma Lagerlöf's Jerusalem, which is set in Jerusalem around the same time period but with Christian main characters, I'd be interested in reading something exploring the same setting from a Jewish perspective. I'll keep a look out for this one!

[dolorosa_12]

I'm glad you like the sound of it, and thank you so much for the rec of Jerusalem — it sounds really interesting!

The Girls in the Velvet Frame falls very much on the 'quieter domestic plot' end of your spectrum, but I have to say that in my current frame of mind, that's the sort of thing I crave. It's like a sort of soothing, literary nourishment.

[lirazel]

Oh I want to read this one! I had never heard of it before you mentioned it a few weeks ago, but it sounds like exactly my kind of thing!

[dolorosa_12]

It's a really, really wonderful book. Geras has written a lot of books in many different genres, but her historical fiction is my very favourite. She has another one I really enjoy, Voyage, which takes place entirely on a ship filled with characters (mostly Jewish) immigrating to the United States, but it's much more bittersweet, whereas The Girls in the Velvet Frame is just sweet.

[skygiants]

I've never heard of this and it looks extremely up my alley, thank you!!

[dolorosa_12]

You're welcome — it's one of my very favourites, and I'm always happy to share the love with other people. I hope you like it!