Fic­tion

The Singer Sisters

  • Review
By – August 5, 2024

Jour­nal­ist and cul­tur­al crit­ic Sarah Seltzer has writ­ten a remark­able debut nov­el that taps into her deep well of knowl­edge about fem­i­nism and rock his­to­ry. The Singer Sis­ters is about two gen­er­a­tions of a folk-rock dynasty and the sac­ri­fices these female artists must make in the pur­suit of their dreams. 

The chief pro­tag­o­nists, though antag­o­nists” might be a bet­ter word, are 1960s folk leg­end Judie — think Joan Baez or Judy Collins — and her nineties-era, black nail pol­ish – wear­ing, alt-rock daugh­ter, Emma. This inge­nious sto­ry weaves in fas­ci­nat­ing sub­plots about oth­er mem­bers of their tal­ent­ed clan as it explores the con­flict between being a moth­er and writ­ing great songs.

The nov­el begins in New York City in 1995, when Judie Zinger­man and Dave Can­tor — Jew­ish Amer­i­can folk-rock roy­al­ty” — tell their adult musi­cian chil­dren, Emma and Leon, that they are split­ting up after more than two decades. The next year, Emma, a gui­tarist, is open­ing a con­cert at Brown University’s leg­en­dar­i­ly debauched” Spring Week­end with her Kore­an Amer­i­can drum­mer, Mae. 

Their female fans have turned out in force, sport­ing chunky boots; pierced noses, lips, and eye­brows; and strands of green, pink, and red hair. In this scene and so many oth­ers, Seltzer excels at con­jur­ing the look, mood, and spir­it of two stark­ly dif­fer­ent eras: the Green­wich Vil­lage folk scene of ear­ly Bob Dylan, and the LA music/​celebrity cul­ture of Brit­ney Spears at the turn of the millennium. 

Through flash­backs and flash-for­wards, we learn the con­vo­lut­ed, some­times heart­break­ing his­to­ry of this fam­i­ly — not just of Judie and Emma, but also of Judie’s sis­ter, Sylvia, and the mys­te­ri­ous Irish au pair, Rose. 

When Rose shows up at Emma’s con­cert at Brown, Emma recalls the time long ago when her for­mer nan­ny accused her of com­ing from a fam­i­ly of liars.” An even more dis­tress­ing ques­tion occurs to Emma: why does this per­son, with whom Emma shared only a glanc­ing rela­tion­ship, have the enam­el ring that once belonged to Emma’s grandmother? 

Over the course of the nov­el, secrets and lies float to the sur­face as Seltzer plumbs the mys­tery and majesty of the song­writ­ing process. She pays homage to the real-life musi­cians of both eras, genius­es whose back­sto­ries no doubt sup­plied her fic­tion­al uni­verse with cred­i­ble details.

While the stars of the ensem­ble are undoubt­ed­ly Judie, Emma, Sylvia, and Rose, Seltzer does not leave male char­ac­ters out. They are con­vinc­ing­ly etched and often tal­ent­ed and charm­ing; but for the most part, they play sup­port­ing roles, their chief task to father babies who will car­ry on the dynasty.

There are many plea­sures to be found in this book, includ­ing char­ac­ters who are endear­ing and annoy­ing in equal mea­sure. Seltzer demon­strates a stel­lar grasp of sec­u­lar Jew­ish Amer­i­can cul­ture — but per­haps this is no sur­prise, giv­en that she serves as exec­u­tive edi­tor of Lilith, a Jew­ish fem­i­nist mag­a­zine. It is enough to make a cer­tain kind of Jew­ish read­er kvell.

Ann Levin is a writer, book review­er, and for­mer edi­tor at The Asso­ci­at­ed Press. Her mem­oir and non­fic­tion have been pub­lished in numer­ous lit­er­ary mag­a­zines and she has read her sto­ries on stage with the New York-based writ­ers group Writ­ers Read. 

Discussion Questions