By – March 20, 2025

Mendel Mendel Shlotz is a Jew­ish boy resid­ing in the fic­tion­al vil­lage of Lintvint, Nahso­via — an imag­i­nary East­ern Euro­pean loca­tion — at the turn of the twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry. Lintvint is a mod­est place, best known for its turnips, beans, and a bev­er­age made from goats’ sweat. Yet it is unlike the leg­endary Chelm, where vir­tu­al­ly every­one lacks com­mon sense. In fact, Mendel stands out in Lintvint for his embar­rass­ing incom­pe­tence. Every­thing he tries, from milk­ing a cow to learn­ing Tal­mud, results in dis­as­ter. When bru­tal Cos­sacks attack his vil­lage, Mendel seems an unlike­ly can­di­date to save it. In Ter­ry LaBan’s new graph­ic nov­el, some­times the unex­pect­ed happens.

For young read­ers who may be unfa­mil­iar with Jew­ish his­to­ry and folk­lore, LaBan offers a brief course on both Cos­sacks and the Evil Eye. Mendel’s weak­ness is, appar­ent­ly, the result of a curse placed on him in utero, when his preg­nant moth­er argued with a witch­like char­ac­ter named Star­face Mat­ja. With a walk­ing stick as gnarled as her fin­gers, and one out­sized eye glar­ing from the page, she seems to incar­nate the force that ter­ri­fies every shtetl Jew. Her malev­o­lent stare has des­tined Mendel to life­long ridicule. Despite this, he enjoys the pro­tec­tion of a lov­ing fam­i­ly, even if their Shab­bos meals are lim­it­ed in vari­ety and his per­for­mance in the house of study is dis­mal. One kind com­pan­ion there, Nuli Sekel­mach­er, gives him some use­ful advice, sug­gest­ing that Mendel visu­al­ize a hand writ­ing out the les­son on a slate.

As LaBan explains in his detailed after­word, Cos­sacks both pro­voked and imple­ment­ed vio­lence against Jews in East­ern Europe. They became almost syn­ony­mous with anti­se­mit­ic ter­ror. Com­bin­ing enough car­i­ca­ture to be humor­ous with real­is­tic details for impact, these drunk­en sol­diers laugh like mani­acs, howl like wolves, and final­ly burst into SONG.” While these char­ac­ters may be ridicu­lous, their destruc­tive­ness is real. The book’s plot, like so much of Jew­ish his­to­ry, involves an elab­o­rate plan to evade ruin. The reap­pear­ance of Star­face Mat­ja sparks real­iza­tions about mis­tak­en iden­ti­ty and mis­judged char­ac­ter. Mendel’s instinct is always to help oth­ers. Final­ly, he dis­cov­ers that fail­ure in this regard is not inevitable.

Bright col­ors, sharply drawn lines, and an appeal­ing font visu­al­ly match the nar­ra­tive. Text box­es alter­nate in size, and include full page illus­tra­tions that grant space to fun­da­men­tal parts of the sto­ry. Cos­sacks in dif­fer­ent col­ored uni­forms share a page with white goats, inter­spersed through­out the crowd of wak­ing sol­diers (“What’s this? GOATS! The whole square is FULL of them!”). Anoth­er page fea­tures a group of Jews look­ing down from their ele­vat­ed hid­ing place towards a vil­lage in flames. Mendel’s chang­ing facial expres­sions reflect his fear, but also his grow­ing sense of deter­mi­na­tion. After all, a curse may be only a pre­text, and even mis­takes can bring about change.

Emi­ly Schnei­der writes about lit­er­a­ture, fem­i­nism, and cul­ture for TabletThe For­wardThe Horn Book, and oth­er pub­li­ca­tions, and writes about chil­dren’s books on her blog. She has a Ph.D. in Romance Lan­guages and Literatures.

Discussion Questions

For six­teen years, under­ground car­toon­ist Ter­ry LeBan cowrote and drew Edge City, a syn­di­cat­ed com­ic strip that ran along­side Peanuts and Calvin & Hobbes about a good-natured­ly anx­ious Jew­ish Amer­i­can fam­i­ly deal­ing with mod­ern crises of kids, jobs, and aging.

The graph­ic nov­el Mendel the Mess-Up is both a rad­i­cal depar­ture and a log­i­cal next step. Set in a sur­re­al 1800s Jew­ish shtetl, it’s full of slap­stick antics and mys­ti­cal stuff that might not be true (the exis­tence of curs­es), his­tor­i­cal stuff that’s def­i­nite­ly true (Cos­sack attacks), and a time­less, wis­dom- and humor-filled romp that doesn’t even pre­tend to be true (the main indus­try of Mendel’s shtetl is har­vest­ing goat sweat as an alco­holic drink). But — like the best fic­tion, the best graph­ic nov­els, and the best his­to­ry lessons — this well-told tale reveals at its heart some­thing time­less and true, the kind of warm humor that illu­mi­nates our emo­tions instead of negat­ing them.