JEWISH JOURNAL
 
Jewish Journal, Los Angeles
March 15-21, 1996
by Robert Eshman, Associate Editor
 
When it became clear to David Saltzman that he was going to die of cancer, he made his family promise him one thing; that they wouldn't let the Jester die with him.

The Jester was a creation of Saltzman's vibrant imagining, a character in a children's book that he had labored on ferociously in the closing months of his life. He called the book "The Jester Has Lost His Jingle." In 64 pages of bright drawings and whimsical poetry, Saltzman told the story of a court jester who wakes up one morning to discover laughter completely absent in the kingdom. Along with his trusty helpmate, Pharley, the Jester sets out to find laughter and bring it back. Saltzman's family - his mother, Barbara; his father, Joe; and his brother, Michael - promised that they would see the remarkable work through to publication. Soon after David completed it, he died, on March 2, 1990. He was 22.

His family set about keeping its promise. Saltzman had written most of the book as part of his senior thesis at Yale University. He had a tumor the size of a football in his chest, but he insisted on climbing five flights of stairs to a dusty studio in a campus building, where, despite battling constant fevers of 102 degrees, he pushed himself to work long hours on his book. He worked on it single-mindedly, even as he penned political cartoons for two Yale dailies and earned straight A's in art and English, eventually being graduated magna cum laude. "It was hard for him to breathe in that room," said his mother, "but he didn't want to give it up. He loved the light."

On visits home to Palos Verdes, David would share his work-in-progress with his parents and brother. They weren't pushovers. Barbara, 56, was an editor at the Los Angeles Times for 20 years. Joe, 57, is a professor of journalism at USC and an award-winning television documentary writer-producer. Michael, 32 is an executive producer of "Murphy Brown." "It excited us from the beginning," said Barbara. "I knew it as an editor and a mother."

David completed his work down to the last detail, even choosing the type fonts and print colors. During graduation, his cancer—Hodgkin's lymphoma—went into remission. But shortly afterward, the cancer returned. It was then he began discussing with his mother how exactly "The Jester" should look in print.

After their son died, the Saltzmans sent his manuscript and drawings around to all the major publishers.

They were interested, said Barbara, but only if they could "chop it in half" and make other significant changes. "We told them, 'This is the final draft,' said Barbara. The author's not here to change it."

Frustrated, the Saltzmans decided that if they wanted to be true to their son's vision, they would have to publish The Jester themselves. The task was daunting. "We were both on salary, and we had just put two kids through Yale," said Barbara. The couple spend $380,000—most of it from a second mortgage—and borrowed $50,000 from friends. Barbara began educating herself in the ways of publishing, and she hired a top designer and project director. "I wanted the book to be beautiful," she said. "I knew we only had one shot."

The book, printed on thick, glossy stock and alive with a rich palette of colors, is indeed beautiful. But the Saltzman publishing enterprise, called simply The Jester Co., Inc., had to figure out how to distribute a small warehouse of $20 books.

Barbara sent the book to wholesalers, promoted it at bookseller's conventions and shopped it around to book dealers. She followed up visits with 6 a.m. phone calls to the East Coast before she left for work, and she established a toll-free number for customer orders.

It worked. To date, "The Jester Has Lost His Jingle" has sold more than 60,000 copies, a best seller by any measure in the highly competitive children's book market. A third press run of 60,000 has just arrived at bookstores nationwide. "People just fell in love with the book," Barbara said of the response. "It became a grass-roots kind of thing."

Before he died, David had requested that his book be given to children with cancer and serious illnesses. His parents, together with Parents Against Cancer, a nonprofit organization, and several private donors and foundations, have so far distributed 20,000 free copies to ailing children. Profits from the sale of the book, said Barbara, will go into producing more books and into this free distribution program.

The Jester, which features an afterword by David's idol, Maurice Sendak, author of "Where the Wild Things Are," and a moving tribute to David himself, has garnered uniformly glowing reviews. Little wonder: It is impossible to read the simple, heartfelt story without being moved to laughter, if not outright joy. David's Jester is game and engaging, and Pharley, his elastic little scepter, is a wondrous blend of foil, chorus and cheering squad. The illustrations yield up fresh details with every reading, and the poetry, which may be not as polished as a Sendak or a Seuss, has moments equal to both. Like Sendak's and Seuss's tales, David's story gives children credit for being able to deal with the truth: "The little girl looked up and her eyes were opened wide./She turned slowly to the Jester, and she quietly replied./Here I lie, I have a tumor…/ And you ask me where's my sense of humor?"

Children respond so positively to the book, believes Barbara Saltzman, because, though it's a fantasy, it doesn't sugarcoat reality. And like any fine fable, it offers multiple lessons. A 5-year-old fan told Barbara, "The Jester" teaches that "laughter is really in your heart." A first-grader wrote the Saltzmans, "I'm so sorry, but his book was so wonderful." A boy in a special-education class wrote that "just like Pharley and the Jester," he too would never give up.

The lessons apply to adults as well. The Saltzmans have received glowing letters from rabbis, who have found a spiritual message both in the Jester's healing laughter and in David's ability to overcome horrific circumstances. "Even though he faced death," said Barbara, "he was able to create something magical."

The magic lives on. Last month, Barbara resigned as the editor of the TV Times to run The Jester Co. full time. The company is releasing a line of dolls based on David's characters and is exploring offers ranging from a "Jester" television show to a "Jester" stage musical. Barbara is also preparing other stories her son left behind for publication.

The work, of course, is bittersweet. "Nothing will ever bring David back," said Barbara. "But to be able to have people know what he was and what he represented is very gratifying. David really was the Jester."