Joann Sfar

Rabbi's Cat is a clever way of introducing Talmudic teaching...sort of like sneaking spinach into a burger to make it "healthier" (yeah, right). The philosophical arguments with a cat about God and love are pretty funny yet serious. To start from the beginning. A parrot annoyed a cat, so the cat ate the bird and gained the ability to speak and lie, not necessarily in that order. Even as a liar, the cat is a straight shooter, albeit a little sarcastic. The cat is also a true cat, randomly show more knocking over things, or walking on piano keys when you are trying to play, or sitting directly on the very book you are trying to read. But, remember, this cat can talk so it should be no surprise it is demanding a Bar Mitzvah. The rabbi needs to consult his rabbi on that one (although he doesn't faze him to hear a cat speak). Thus begins the argument, what does it mean to have faith? Does what you practice define your level of spirituality? What about the differences between being a Jew or an Arab? I loved the argument between the cat and the donkey about the name 'Sfar.' Truly a clever book. show less

Eccentric, to say the least. I was charmed by the romance, the artwork, by a cameo appearance of Queen Victoria, and by the Monty Pythonesque silliness of the plot. "(A body! My goodness, no, I don't know where it came from. Oh look, there's another one on the stairs.") Just one quibble--if the mummy, under his bandages, is a perfectly ordinary-looking fellow, then why on earth would he wear them?

In this delightful and uproariously funny parable set in Algeria in the 1930s, the rabbi’s cat, a conniving, profane cat who appears to be a blue Abyssinian, devours a garrulous parrot, thereby acquiring the bird’s power of speech. The clever but prevaricating cat immediately launches into a campaign to get himself a Bar Mitzvah — despite the opposition of both the rabbi and the rabbi’s rabbi. Eventually, the rabbi relents due to the intervention of the rabbi’s beautiful daughter, show more Zlabya — to whom both cat and rabbi are completely devoted. Thus, begins the instruction of the cat in the ways of the Torah, although the cat would much prefer to begin with the Kabbalah.

The atheistic cat and the devout rabbi debate the most important questions of their time — and ours: science versus religion, why evil occurs, the impenetrable nature of God, how best to live a more perfect life in an imperfect world. Unsurprisingly, the cat often getting the better part of the argument. Even so, both develop a closer bond and develop as — dare I use the term? — people.

But it’s on the visit to Paris that the cat really shines. Zlabya meets and instantly falls in love with Jules Nahum, a Paris-born rabbi come to take over a nearby congregation. Zlabya and Jules soon marry, and — with father and cat in tow — the happy couple head to Paris for a visit to the in-laws. The rabbi cannot find a thing to like in the City of Lights, criticizing everything, from the weather to the prayer habits of the synagogue goers, until finally Jules has had more than enough. And that’s when the biggest adventure begins for man and beast.

French artist-writer Joann Sfar won the prestigious Jury Prize at Angoulême for The Rabbi’s Cat, and it’s easy to see why. The dialogue is clever and, at times, laugh-out-loud funny, and the illustrations so closely evoke the Algeria and Paris of a bygone day that you can nearly smell the berbouche d’Alger and the garlicky escargot. At 142 pages, you can finish this slim volume at a sitting — and, trust me, you won’t be able to stop yourself from reading cover to cover all at once!

Be sure to take a look in the back at the dust jacket to catch a glimpse at the inspiration for the cat on Sfar’s chest. show less

http://nwhyte.livejournal.com/2243568.html

A compilation of two albums telling two quite different stories. The first, "Heaven on Earth", is a bit of a meditation on stories and telling them through the mysterious figure of Malka, the Rabbi's cousin whose companion is an aging lion, set against the real background of the rise of an anti-Semitic regime in Algiers in the mid-1930s. In the second, "Africa's Jerusalem", the Rabbi, his cat and friends set off to explore their continent, taking an show more improbably indirect route from Algiers to Ethiopia which brings them into contact with another icon of bande dessinée who happened to be in the neighbourhood, ie Tintin.

I read this in English translation, which was just as well as the second volume also features a lost Russian character (who is able to talk to the cat) and I might not have got the linguistic nuances in the original French.

Sfar says in his introduction to the second album that he was trying to write about racism. I'm not sure that he quite managed to address colonialism or race - there are various scenes of the urbanised rabbi and friends (and cat) dealing with tribes which seemed a bit cliched - but he did at least widen his canvas. show less