In a small Pennsylvania mill town haunted by World War II, two young boys lie awake each night discussing the ghosts in their room. They are Ethan and Jeremiah Mueller, and it is through their eyes that we discover the fantastical world of Dennis Must's The World's Smallest Bible.
Lacking the diversions of television or formal hobbies, the boys concoct spirits and stories. At first, these are informed mainly by their strict Christian upbringing, but as they're exposed to more--the Nazis' nightmarish tactics, the eerie carnival lurking on the outskirts of town--these details are incorporated into their game, blurring the line between the real and the imagined.
Theirs is a world in which every idea and person seems constantly called into question. Preachers are taunted by lurid temptations and the ranting of amateur philosophers. Their lustful father stands in stark opposition to their pious mother. And as time goes on, even their mother is revealed to be a duality, encompassing chaos and order, darkness and light. Which side is stronger at any given moment is unclear.
Fans of historical fiction will enjoy the jaunty midcentury dialogue, as expressed in colorful phrases such as "the rowdies and their chickadees," "you're the mooncalf," and "Papa warbled for dames." The voice keeps the novel upbeat even when the subject matter is dark. --Annie Atherton