Debut Author Marie-Helene Bertino Dishes the Writing Dirt with SLJTeen

I’m not going to hesitate from calling this a gushing review from Library Journal—”By the fourth sentence of the first page, readers will fall in love with debut author Marie-Helene Bertino; delighted adoration of Madeleine will take another half-page.” The story is multigenerational and told in such a heartfelt matter—a perfect pick for a mother/teen daughter read. Ultimately, it’s all about saving The Cat’s Pajamas, a legendary jazz club, and nine-year-old Madeleine Altimari is just the girl to do it. Forced by circumstance to take care of everyone around her, she decides to do something for herself and sets out to make her debut as a jazz singer.

As “Adult Books 4 Teens” blogger Angela Carstensen points out, “I can’t remember the last time we had anything set in a jazz club, or starring a nine-year-old aspiring singer.” SLJ caught up with Bertino to discuss her debut, 2 A.M. at The Cat’s Pajamas.

Congratulations on the success of 2 A.M. at The Cat’s Pajamas. The story is bursting with heart, and readers of all ages are really responding. I understand that it took 12 years to write.

Thank you so much. The novel did take a long time to write. Or rather, maybe I should say, it took a long time for me to figure out how to write my first novel, and then this novel, particularly. [It] evolved from a poetry cycle to a novella to a novelish-shaped item that scared me for a long time, until it reached its current form. I evolved along the way, too (one hopes).

The story seems to be presented in straightforward chronological order, with all the action taking place in just 24 hours. But actually, it involves multiple life stories that span generations. How did you come to choose such a simple structure for this complex novel?

Figuring out the structure was the most important piece of the puzzle, and I didn’t figure it out until many years into the process. In one of its many manifestations, the book was in three parts: the same day told three times. I worked with the tremendously insightful editor Judy Sternlight who suggested I tell all the story lines at once. I knew when she said it that a) it was absolutely the right decision, and b) it would take me at least a year to do correctly. As I braided the stories together, the people they were passing in the streets began to announce themselves. To my delight, the perspective began to wander and, in doing so, reflected the meandering spirit of music. Everything clicked on the metaphorical level in a way that felt divine. And then, we were off to the races.

Madeleine is a real scene stealer, thanks to her outrageous behavior, her Billie Holiday voice, and the underlying pathos that you allow readers to glimpse. Where did the inspiration for Madeleine come from?

In its original form—an earnest, albeit misguided poetry cycle—the book’s story was about a couple returning home from a night of dancing. Their raucous carrying on in the street wakes up a small child, who climbs out of her window and engages in a Salinger–esque exchange with the man, who at that time was called Sir Edgar. I realized I was interested in a little girl who would act and talk this way. She turned out to be Madeleine. The dancers became Sarina and Ben, old, flawed friends who spend the novel walking around the city.

The characters are constantly misreading each other, most often in ways detrimental to their relationship. For example, when Lorca talks with his 16-year-old son, Alex, about playing in the bar, both of them end up feeling wounded and misunderstood. Do you think this is something intrinsic in human relationships?

Absolutely! We so rarely talk about what we are actually talking about. This is necessary in addition to being cowardly. Once in a while I’ll come across someone who talks in subtext—constantly giving voice to what we all have learned to pretend isn’t happening. This person is normally a teenager or theatre person or a person’s whose filter has been ravaged by something like illness or age. And they are exhausting to be around. But they are also very brave.

Many of the characters in the novel come to us with thwarted dreams, but later discover that happiness is nonetheless possible. I felt that was echoed in the Philadelphia setting; although much in that great city has declined, the future still holds surprises. Can you comment on that?

Many years ago I watched a television program about luck. They studied people who considered themselves to be lucky, and people who considered themselves to be unlucky. When all was said and done, the ratio of good things to bad things was pretty much the same in the lives of both kinds of people. I think anyone has a chance at divinity, depending on how they see the world. The truth is, as Ben says, the universe is indifferent. That’s how I feel. At least that’s how I feel today. But the novel doesn’t take place in the universe. It takes place in Philadelphia. And, Philadelphia is not indifferent. Philadelphia will give you a shot, but if it detects even a whiff of laziness or inauthenticity, it will destroy you. At the end of the novel, Mrs. Santiago manages to pierce through Philadelphia and enter the universe. And this is a very, very big deal.

What are you working on presently?

I am puttering on stories and another novel the way a gardener putters in her garden. And even though the ground is sometimes frozen over, there is so much growing underneath. I’m excited. Any day in the garden is a good day.