The Jewish Theatre ReaderAn independent guide to Jewish theatre, its history and its plays

Hershel and the Hanukkah Goblins: a trickster tale for eight nights

Three unmarked wooden spinning tops turning on a warm wooden table
Repetition, chance and changing rhythm give a holiday story theatrical momentum.

Hershel and the Hanukkah Goblins begins with a useful promise for any storyteller: one clever traveler, one troubled place and a challenge that grows across eight nights. The picture book draws on a folk-trickster tradition, but its appeal is also architectural. Repetition lets young audiences learn the shape of the story while each encounter changes the stakes.

The book and its folk hero

The book reference (Wikipedia) identifies Hershel and the Hanukkah Goblins as a 1989 picture book written by Eric Kimmel and illustrated by Trina Schart Hyman. It features Hershel of Ostropol, a Jewish folk hero and trickster, confronting a series of goblins during the eight nights of Hanukkah. The book received a Caldecott Honor in 1990.

Those facts explain the tale's double inheritance. It is a modern picture book with a particular writer and illustrator, and it borrows a figure shaped by oral story. A trickster succeeds by reading a situation differently from everyone else. Strength may belong to the opponent, but control of attention, language and expectation belongs to the hero.

Hershel's stage value comes from that imbalance. A performer can make thought visible through stillness, timing and a glance toward the audience. A threatening arrival can become comic when the listener understands the trap before the other character does. The pleasure lies in watching a mind at work.

Why eight nights make a strong structure

Hanukkah lasts eight nights, with another candle added on each evening. The festival overview (Wikipedia) connects the holiday with the rededication of the Temple and describes the nightly progression of lights. In a story, that calendar supplies both a clock and a ladder: the audience knows how far the journey has come and how much remains.

Repetition is especially valuable in family theatre. A familiar entrance or challenge helps children predict the rules of the world. Variation then becomes meaningful. A new goblin can require a different tactic; a later night can echo an earlier one while changing its tone; the growing candlelight can mark endurance without a narrator explaining it.

The pattern also supports episodic staging. Scenes can be short and distinct, joined by sound, shadow or a recurring action. An uncluttered stage may serve the story better than literal scenery because the audience supplies scale. A table can become a place of contest, and an unseen space beyond the light can hold whatever the imagination invents.

Fear held inside play

Goblins allow a story to give fear a shape that is fantastic rather than realistic. For children, the important question is not whether the creatures look imposing but whether the story establishes that wit, patience and courage can change the situation. Comic timing keeps the atmosphere buoyant even when the challenge grows.

A stage version can respect that balance by avoiding sensory overload. Silence may create suspense more effectively than noise. A single odd prop can suggest a creature's world without making ugliness the point. The hero's choices, not the size of the effect, should remain the center of attention.

From page image to live action

A picture book controls every view. The illustrator chooses the frame, the scale and the moment held still. Theatre replaces that fixed frame with bodies moving through shared space. It therefore needs to decide what belongs in the set, what can be suggested by a performer and what should remain in the listener's imagination.

The adaptation history of the book is not needed to see its theatrical potential. Dialogue can turn a riddle into action; repeated nights can become scenes; candlelight can measure time; and direct address can make spectators feel like partners in the trick. Those possibilities arise from the book's form itself.

A companion to the holiday

The broader Hanukkah guide explains rededication, candle lighting, the dreidel and family storytelling. Reading the two pages together separates the festival from any single fictional tale. The book is one imaginative response to Hanukkah, not a complete account of the holiday.

That distinction helps parents and teachers ask better questions. Which parts come from holiday practice? Which belong to folklore? How does the trickster change a frightening situation? When does repetition make the audience feel secure, and when does a variation create surprise?

Hershel's most useful gift to the stage is not a moral stated at the final curtain. It is a method: look closely, understand the rules and find the opening that power has missed. The solo-play page offers another view of how one performer can make many encounters vivid through voice, focus and transformation.