Erica Perl’s middle-grade novel All Three Stooges
In the book, seventh-graders Noah and his friend Dash share a love of comedy and a somewhat reluctant commitment to their bar mitzvah preparations. Noah has a sister and two moms, and the latter are introduced without fanfare—the book isn’t “about” having two moms.
When Dash’s father Gil dies unexpectedly by suicide, however, Dash withdraws from Noah and finds comfort with others, leaving Noah wondering why he was abandoned, how to help his friend, and how to deal with his own grief at losing a significant adult in his life. He and Dash had spent many a sleepover at Dash’s house horsing around with his single dad, who cooked them breakfast in the mornings.
While Perl makes no big deal of Noah’s two moms, she is nevertheless sensitive to how having two moms might affect Noah in certain situations. Noah explains, “I love my moms. They are the awesomest. With them, I have exactly no need for a dad. But want is different. I always felt like, if I had a dad, I’d want him to be like Gil.”
As the lesbian mom of a teen son, I thought hard about that passage before realizing that Dash is expressing something I’ve heard other sons of queer moms say, and which is often hard for us moms to hear. It’s natural for them to wonder what it’s like to have a dad, I believe, in the same way they might wonder what it’s like to have anything a friend has that they don’t. Gil had helped satisfy that curiosity for Noah and offered him a role model for fatherhood, even as Noah was perfectly happy with his moms. That’s a lesson we single or same-sex parents should keep in mind if our children ever express a similar interest in having a parent of another gender. It doesn’t mean they love us any less, that they really want to get rid of one or both of us, or that they are less well-adjusted than peers with different-sex parents.
To dwell on that here, however, is to emphasize it more than Perl does. It is part of Noah’s story, but far from the bulk of it, which centers on broader themes of friendship, growth, living through grief, and the awkward social interactions of middle school. Despite dealing with somber issues like suicide and mental illness, though, which it does with great thoughtfulness, the tale has copious doses of humor, conveyed through Noah’s love of comedy, that keep it from gloom. (Note that Noah’s love of comedy has led him to be a fan of Woody Allen films, among others; readers concerned by the accusations of sexual assault against Allen (although they are not mentioned in the book) may be put off by this—but on another level, the references will, at least for adult readers who know this backstory, underline the often thin line between comedy and tragedy that is at the heart of this novel.) Jewish families in particular will appreciate how Noah’s bar mitzvah preparations and his relationship with the rabbi are woven into the narrative—but this is a coming-of-age tale with wide appeal.
Congratulations to Perl on the award! (And if you haven’t seen all of the many other great LGBTQ-inclusive middle grade books that were published last year, check them out.)
