THE STARS

In this tale translated from French, an Orthodox Jewish boy is fascinated by stars, planets—and the girl who shares his interest.

Every day Yakov takes his sisters to the park, where he reads about space. He fantasizes about going “to the Moon, to Mars, to Titan, or to Ganymede,” but his visions of Saturn are interrupted by his father’s nagging. Then he meets a Muslim girl named Aïcha. Instant soul mates, they daydream about the universe; in Goldstyn’s loose-lined illustrations, space looks magical, with deep blue washes. Both children are tan-skinned, and Aïcha wears a flowing hijab, while Yakov has side curls and sports a kippa. Yakov’s Jewish community, with signs in French and Yiddish, is populated with large, friendly families: chatty women wearing head coverings; men wearing fur hats and kippot. Yakov prefers Aïcha’s company. They share bagels, ice cream, and space facts—all the while ignoring community gossip about their friendship. Driven apart by their infuriated fathers, they meet again in adulthood as happy, secular astronomers. The protagonists ultimately reach their dreams by rejecting their communities and fitting into the dominant culture—a narrative choice that’s handled without nuance. Both fathers feel one-dimensional in their opposition to the friendship, and Yakov’s and Aïcha’s reasons for leaving their faiths aren’t fully unpacked. Whenever Aïcha’s hair is seen (she takes the hijab off as a child at one point, to Yakov’s delight, and stops wearing it as an adult), it’s depicted as a huge mass of rainbow-hued curls—a portrayal that exoticizes her and suggests that the headscarf is oppressive.

A reductive tale of aspiration achieved through assimilation.