Newbery honoree Kyle Lukoff’s new middle grade novel is the tale of a Jewish, transgender boy trying to save the world from anti-trans demons. That alone should be enough to commend it. But it’s also much more: a powerful story of self-growth, the many ways of transformation, and the complexity of human relationships.
In A World Worth Saving (Dial Books), 14-year-old A Izenson came out as a transgender boy during COVID lockdown, but even though the worst of the pandemic is past, he still feels locked in. His parents take him to weekly Save Our Sons and Daughters (SOSAD) conversion therapy meetings whose [discredited] purpose is to convince trans and nonbinary youth that those identities are false. A can’t stand being there, although the meetings give him the chance to visit with his friends Sal (a trans lesbian) and Yarrow (who is nonbinary/agender).
Youth in the group are mysteriously disappearing after being selected for “advanced treatment,” however. When Yarrow becomes one of them, A starts to investigate, and in the process, encounters a creature made of animated garbage that calls itself a golem. The golem explains that the world is at a turning point between good and evil, and that the golem is there to help A ensure that righteousness prevails.
A soon discovers that the world is being overrun by malicious demons disguised as humans, who feed on human misery. One is the leader of SOSAD. (That isn’t really a spoiler, as it’s noted in the book blurb.) A hasn’t even figured out a new name for himself after coming out as trans, though. How can he possibly overcome this threat? With Sal at his side, A seeks support from his rabbi and other members of his Reform Jewish congregation, and from several unhoused queer youth they meet, but struggles when Sal’s enthusiasm for the task seems to wane. And is our flawed, transphobic world even worth saving? While the story at first seems like the setup for a classic “chosen one” narrative, Lukoff upends and reexamines that trope to give us a nuanced look at personal growth, the responsibilities humans have to themselves and to each other, and what it takes to make change.
Lukoff doesn’t make this a simple story of good versus evil, either. A’s parents are not ultra-conservatives; they’re Democrats in a blue state (Washington) and support marriage equality, but have clearly been swayed by anti-trans rhetoric. A himself is still figuring out the type of person and friend he wants to be—a process that Lukoff shows in all its ups and downs.
Notably, too, Lukoff looks at how people of various LGBTQ identities move in the world and how trans people of different genders are each often treated differently. Such differences are often ignored in books and media coverage, but Lukoff holds them to the light and reminds us why they matter.
The book is also deeply Jewish, but not only because A and his family are Jewish and the golem comes from Ashkenazi (Eastern European) Jewish folklore. Jewish values, traditions, and history underpin the story in multiple ways, providing a rationale for the golem and demons, moral touchstones for A, and an example of what support and community can look like. And the heart of the narrative plays out between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, the most sacred time of the Jewish year. As a Jew myself, I’ll note that interpreting Jewish texts and crafting stories that illuminate those teachings has formed a core part of being a Jew for the better part of our history; Lukoff sits firmly within that tradition even as he makes his own powerful and important contribution to it.
One doesn’t have to be Jewish, however, to appreciate the themes that Lukoff surfaces from his interpretation of Jewish texts and thought: the holy nature of being trans and the spiritual power of being oneself. “You are in the midst of your own creation, which gives you strength beyond imagining,” the golem tells A at one point. That mindset could be life-altering—for trans youth first and foremost, but also for many other young (and not-so-young) people. (As a cis reviewer, I recognize my limits in opining on what will resonate with trans youth, but I know the positive impact that affirmation can have on young people in general, and I trust Lukoff to be on target here.)
While all of the above themes might seem weighty, Lukoff weaves them into an exciting and original adventure with some light (but age-appropriate) horror elements and a touch of humor. He then offers an ending (which I won’t spoil) that feels hopeful and authentic even as it steers clear of simple, binary solutions. Expect the book to be on multiple award lists. Very highly recommended.
Content warning: Mention of a trans youth who died by suicide. Several scenes include characters expressing anti-trans rhetoric. Lukoff also indicates that the parents in SOSAD are deadnaming their children—but he respectfully never actually uses those deadnames in the text.
