Editorial Content for The Opposite of Hallelujah

Anna Jarzab follows her well-regarded debut novel with THE OPPOSITE OF HALLELUJAH, a very different novel that nonetheless continues to showcase Jarzab's interest in psychology and relationships.

"Anna Jarzab's second novel, THE OPPOSITE OF HALLELUJAH, offers a far more nuanced portrayal of religious people, acknowledging the challenges they face but also recognizing how belief can shape a life."

It's rare to find a novel --- especially a novel for young people --- that deals with issues of faith, belief, and doubt in a sensitive and thoughtful way. Too often, people of faith are depicted as either models of saintly perfection or as examples of small-mindedness. Anna Jarzab's second novel, THE OPPOSITE OF HALLELUJAH, offers a far more nuanced portrayal of religious people, acknowledging the challenges they face but also recognizing how belief can shape a life.

Caro certainly wouldn't call herself devout. Sure, her family goes to Mass pretty regularly, especially at the holidays; she also has gone to Sunday School her whole life. Now that she's a junior in high school, though, she rarely thinks about church or her faith in a serious way; she's too busy striving to get good grades and spending time with her friends.

As the novel opens, however, Caro finds herself forced to confront these issues as well as many others. She learns that her older sister Hannah, who left home when Caro was eight and Hannah was nineteen, is coming back home to live with Caro and their parents after renouncing her vows. Hannah's absence was especially unusual because she left home to become a nun in a contemplative order; before her return, Caro hadn't even seen her sister for three years.

Caro's always been more than a little embarrassed by her older sister's vocation. When she was younger, she lied to people and told them Hannah had died. None of her current friends even know that Caro has an older sister, and Caro tells the new boy she likes that Hannah is returning from the Peace Corps, not from the convent. Meanwhile, Hannah's uncomfortable presence in their home forces Caro to confront her own feelings about where she fits in their family and about the fact that Hannah has her own history within Caro's family, a past Caro herself can't really even remember.

It's not surprising, given the topic of her first novel, that Jarzab does an admirable job of building suspense about why Hannah joined the convent in the first place and why she left. As she does so, she builds a compelling portrait, not only of Hannah's own sad story, but also of Caro's imperfect but sympathetic personality and their family's evolution. Throw in an appealing love story and a welcome dash of humor, and you've got a complicated, thoughtful novel that will encourage readers to think about issues of faith and family in a whole new light.