Mourning and Misbehaving
The death of a loved one, with its attendant rituals and formalwear, often bestows a brittle dignity on survivors. This is not the case for Cammy Adler. Rather, in Cary Gitter’s warm-hearted debut novel, Cammy Sitting Shiva (Alcove Press, $19.99), the unexpected death of the protagonist’s beloved father brings out Cammy’s most chaotic instincts. So, when she returns to New Jersey to sit shiva in her childhood home, she’s soon getting high, hooking up with high school classmates, and alienating her loved ones.
In New York City, Cammy’s an aspiring playwright and temporary copywriter. Or, in her words, “a dilettante, with writerly pretensions but no evidence that she possessed the skill or commitment to fulfill them.” Back in her small hometown of River Hill, Cammy’s personal and professional disappointments are thrown into high relief. As she observes, “This was what sucked about being home: the constant reminders of the past, and how far you hadn’t come since then.”
Cammy finds no comfort in the mourning traditions that her mother embraces. Like her late father, Cammy’s irreligious, and, as she blithely informs the local rabbi, “Oh, I definitely feel Jewish, in an I-live- in-New-York-and-like-bagels-and Seinfeld kinda way. But as for the actual religion? Nope.” So, after two nights of stilted condolences and whitefish salad, Cammy rebels, assuaging her grief with embarrassing behavior and blunt remarks: She fights with her mother, goes bowling, and insults Rabbi Wiener (his name was mocked by young Cammy and her friends for its “homonymic echoes of hot dogs and penises”).
Cammy further distracts herself by investigating the identity of a woman sitting beside her father in an old photo; getting drunk (and arrested) in a cemetery with her best friend, Fran; and attempting to seduce her high school crush in her old bedroom, an attempt thwarted when her mother walks in. Cammy’s antics culminate in a lap dance at an Atlantic City strip club, where she gamely snorts a line of cocaine off the abs of a dancer named Valentino. Unfortunately, the debauchery causes her bowels to revolt.
While the comic mishaps come at a fast clip, Gitter lingers over Cammy’s internal state, which includes self-loathing and guilt as well as grief. Additionally, Cammy’s theatrical mindset ensures she’s always conscious of how she appears; when Cammy enters a dive bar, she thinks, “If only these haggard dudes knew I feel like them deep down.” And when creative inspiration strikes, it’s in the form of a scene about “a young, mixed-up guy who comes home to Jersey to sit shiva with his mom after his father’s untimely death.” (The young guy’s name is Cameron.) Cammy’s so relieved to be writing again that she rushes back to New York to share the scene with her theater group. But when they’re less than enthusiastic, Cammy indignantly announces her father’s death and storms out of the meeting. While she’s impulsive and unfiltered, Cammy’s also cursed with a self-awareness that quickly forces her to recognize—and occasionally feel ashamed of—her behavior. After leaving the meeting, she admits, “She’d hidden her dad’s death from the group, shared her pages under false pretenses— and then, when she didn’t get the reaction she wanted, she’d sprung the heavy news on them and cursed them out. No, probably not so fair. But definitely rash and spiteful.”
Cammy’s—and perhaps Gitter’s— affinity for familiar narrative tropes means that by the end of the novel, Cammy has promptly and easily repaired her relationships, found meaningful creative work, and had several character- building realizations. But Cammy herself is an original: a funny, smart, and spontaneous hot mess. She’s also totally compelling, whether she’s inadvertently suggesting her mother bears responsibility for her father’s death or harassing a complete stranger over the phone. It’s impossible not to root for Cammy as she mourns and misbehaves.
Elizabeth Michaelson Monaghan lives in New York City, where she is usually reading. Her work has appeared in SELF, The Week, City Limits, and other titles.
