I like the dedication:
The children of the poor and troubled
rarely do come to full growth; like
forced fruit, they blossom to early and
wither before they ripen.
Of these,
For these,
To these,
Whatever their age, country, color, or creed,
This story,
By one of these.
I expected the story to be mainly about Eddie, but Eddie was really just the linchpin in a story about a family's struggles in trying to survive, while being fettered to an uncaring father. I think that telling the story from two points of view, that of Hal and of Sybil, worked well. There were things that are better told from an inside perspective, and some things that are better viewed through an outsider's eyes... And since it was clear from the beginning that Hal and Sybil would end up together, it makes sense for it to be the two of them.
"Our father's a teacher," said Sybil. "He's a headmaster. Of the Hebrew school in the East End." She sounded proud of it and not proud of it, at the same time.
That one simple sentence says so much. The writing is excellent. Also, later, when Sybil describes the joy of going to a play, and the magic of seeing Sleeping Beauty, it really captures the wonder of childhood.
I ran out and went home. Maybe Mr. Raphel was wrong or maybe he was right, the way grown-ups think. I couldn't figure him out, because I remembered how the school kids hugged his hands and looked at him as if he were some kind of hero. But I felt sure that I would never like Mr. Raphel.
I think this is important; a person can be good to certain people but terrible to others, like Mr Raphel being good to his students but a bad father to his children. Being faced with this dichotomy is confusing and disconcerting. Children don't know what to make of it, and adults tend to cling to their prejudice--like how people who knew Mr Raphel professionally, couldn't imagine him being a bad person in his home life, and refused to believe it. I've also seen people who are wonderful parents, but they also happen to be racist a**holes. Whichever "side" of the person you knew first, it's always difficult to fathom the opposing side, because it's so inconsistent with the "truth" that you know. Our minds want to reconcile it, to make sense of it, but it *can't* be reconciled, and I think a lot of people just aren't able to come to terms with that. And yet, having the capacity to be good to certain people and horrible to others is a basic truth of human nature. It's not a question to be answered, just a reality to be aware of.
I see a lot of readers had a hard time getting through this book, because of the abusive father. I think the problem was deeper than that; Mr Raphel had put all his time, money, and attention into his teaching, at the expense of his family, because he believed that his teaching was more important. His upbringing had ingrained in him the belief that religion is the most important thing in life, and must always be placed first. He did what he had been taught was "right". The whole reason that he could act so callously, was because he *believed* he was doing the right thing. Of course he didn't feel any guilt or shame; he didn't think he had done anything wrong. The fact that *we* recognize it as wrong just shows that our upbringing has taught us that how we treat people is more important than religion. But when something is so ingrained in a person, they won't easily realize that there are other (perhaps better) ways of living. I'm glad that Mr Raphel finally overcame that in the end, and was able to give his daughters (and younger son?) a better life.
I came upstairs with her [Sybil]. I couldn't believe my eyes. Mr. Raphel had actually set the table for tea. He, who had always scorned to touch with his man's hands anything having to do with women's work!
He explained, a bit self-conscious, even a bit ashamed before me, I think. "Lilie will be coming home any minute from her class. She is always tired at this time, finds tea refreshing."
"You're not at school now, sir?"
"Oh, I have taken a Sabbatical leave."
"Papa," said Sybil, after a pause, "Hal might be able to get tickets for the opera. Can I go? I mean--is it required, by Jewish law, to wait?" [since she was in mourning.]
Mr. Raphel's brows began to contract and his eyes to snap in the old way, but he stopped. He said, slowly, "The Law... The Law is to live by." He paused a long while, his eyes dull and far away. Then he came to, and looked at us again, and said, with some difficulty, "I think there will be the opera La Juive, next month. If you go to that, I would like to know what the story is about."
I like that ending. Out of a tragedy, comes hope for a better future.