LOSS OF MEMORY IS ONLY TEMPORARY

Stories of New York Jewish lives in the 1970s.

"You were like really always into being Jewish weren't you?" asks an old schoolmate of the narrator's in "Tales of My Great-Grandfathers," one of two new pieces included here along with all the stories from Other People's Lives, a collection originally published in 1975 to remarkable acclaim. Kaplan's debut won the Jewish Book Award and was a finalist for the National Book Award. Though she published just one more book, a novel called O My America! and both were long out of print, this reissue seems likely to find her a new set of fans. A warm introduction by Francine Prose alerts us to the joys of Kaplan's stories: "smart, uneasy, cranky heroines," "dialogue [with] the literary equivalent of perfect pitch," and so many delightful sentences you can literally open the book at random and find one. In "Sickness," Miriam, the cynical and whip-smart heroine of several stories, recalls running into an acquaintance ("on the dumb side") in Alexander's department store. The girl is so eager to show off her purchases she rips open a shopping bag full of what she believes to be "gorgeous underpants" in the middle of the store. Miriam is not sold. "It seemed to me that these nylon underpants with little hearts dancing over the crotch were the most ridiculous things I had ever seen....Suddenly I got the idea that if Andrea had underpants with two hearts embroidered on them, maybe if someone ever got a good look at her heart, they would find two little pairs of white underpants stitched on it." In "Sour or Suntanned, It Makes No Difference," Miriam is trapped at a Socialist-Zionist summer camp where she's reduced to watching insects buzz around a lightbulb for fun: "Miriam started to wonder whether these were Socialist bugs who believed in sharing with each other what they had, or else bugs who were secretly wishing to keep the whole bulb for themselves and, by politely flying close together, just faking it." Another such skeptic narrates "Babysitting," possibly the funniest story. Sent by the school guidance counselor to care for the children of "American's enigmatic wanderer-poet-playwright" Ted Marshak, she goes through his mail, answers his phone, reads a draft left lying on his desk. As with Miriam and the underpants, she's not impressed.

Though some situations feel dated, snarky young ladies are timeless. Plus, the dialogue is to die for.