What’s on My Shelf: The Sisters of the Winter Wood

I promised to gush, and so I finally shall…

Though I haven’t updated “What’s on My Shelf” recently, implying I have far more books to review than the title indicates, there is one book in particular which I have been needing to discuss for quite some time.

As the Gregorian year comes to its close, I find myself looking back at all the books I have read in the past year, and even further to whenever I began this blog, asking myself which were my favourites. While there are a few which resonated more with me than the others, there is one in particular which I think I treasure the most out the collective pack.

Of course I am referring to Rena Rossner‘s The Sisters of the Winter Wood.

As I have written before, modern Jewish Fantasy literature is gaining momentum, credibility, and recognition in the pop culture world. There are several books which I have read in the past year with either foundations or subtle traces of Jewish fantasy within their pages.

Though there is nothing new about Jewish Fantasy literature (have you read the Talmud?), the modernization of these traditions, creatures, folklore, and mythologies are.

And it is my opinion that Rena Rossner’s The Sisters of the Winter Wood does it best.

The Sisters of the Winter Wood is a story not only about two sisters, their differences and similarities, and how they grow into the women they were born to be, but it is also a story about family, loyalty, faith, and love.

Technically, you could call it a fantasy version of Fiddler on the Roof told through the alternating perspective of the daughters Tzeitel and Chava with a dash of Jim Henson’s Labyrinth thrown into this rich, mesmerizing stew of lore, history, and tradition.

It’s perfect. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted to read in a book.

There’s the romance of the two sister’s falling in love with the men who enthrall their hearts; the struggles of them embracing who they are, becoming their own persons, their differences from each other, pushing those once safe familial boundaries, and learning to love and support each other through such changes; there’s factual, historical elements providing the foundation of the world, giving it that urban fantasy feel, whilst seemingly blending it with the rich, mystical traditions of Judaism providing that fantastical splash of intrigue, mystery, and wonder.

As my rabbi frequently says, in reference to midrashic commentaries, “If it didn’t happen this way, it should have.” Thus, Rena creates this beautiful world which very well could have existed, and maybe, just maybe, does.

There’s also the specific example of Liba, who struggles with accepting her magical abilities and their connotations, which I personally, deeply related to. She isn’t like most girls in her village. She’s voluptuous and loves to eat. Then there’s her abilities which make her think of herself as a monster, augmenting her self-torment of comparing herself to her younger sister, this elegant, graceful, slender, blithe thing. Everything she is not.

As my own sister and I grew throughout our adolescence, it was these same physical changes and contrasts between us which I also endured.

Liba, too, is religious, like her Tati. She follows in his footsteps, holding her faith dear and precious to her, even in spite of her sister’s disinterest. I cannot tell you how meaningful it was to have a heroine who was religious, like me.

Yes, most of us, if not all of us, read ourselves into the story, projecting our souls onto the characters. However, I cannot describe how much these characters and their story spoke to me, reminiscent of my own journey.

One of my other favourite aspects was in alternating the perspectives between the two characters, Rena wrote one sister’s voice in prose, the other in verse. It. was. breathtaking. It added such an unique, distinct quality to their own characters, I’m shocked no one else has ever tried it.

There is so much more I want to say about this book, but I haven’t even talked about the best part: I met Rena!

As if her book wasn’t enough to gush about, Rena is that much more fabulous. She is one of the most tender, humble people I think I’ve ever met; sweet and kind. And brilliant! Did I mention she’s brilliant? A true eshet chayil. I don’t how this mother of 5 does it.

If I were to say I look up to anyone and their example (besides my own mother), I would probably have to include Rena. She made that much of an impression upon me, and her work likewise.

Seeing her do what she does, what she’s done, it makes me think, know I can do it too. Her example inspires me to try harder to reach for my own dreams.

Lastly, I’ll cut myself off with repeating something I’ve written about before simply because I could continue rambling about her book much longer than I think anyone would want to read.

Jewish Fantasy literature is relevant to everyone.

Just because The Sisters of the Winter Wood is written about a shtetl in the middle of Ukraine, a sect of chasidim within it, antisemitism, pogroms, and persecution does not mean only Jewish people can relate to this. While one may not understand all the hidden nuances, this is still a story worth reading for anyone.

We have all had to grow up, discover who we truly are, separate self from family finding our own path, distinguish that self from our siblings, maintain those bonds of kinship after such change, and fight goblins along the way. (Okay, so maybe not everyone of us have fought actual goblins, but that doesn’t mean we haven’t faced people or situations who act like goblins.)

We are all of us on our own journeys through this world, and though the details are always different, our journeys are the same. Stories remind us of why we are on these journeys, guiding us along our paths when we may have lost our way.

Rena’s story is that same light shining to guide us, to remind us, to bring to life our own sparks of light hidden within us.

I hope you read Rena’s story, and find yourself encouraged and inspired as I did. And guess what? She has another book coming out soon!

Wherever you are, as Kate DiCamillo said,

Stories are light. Light is precious in a world so dark…tell a story. Make some light.