Three Floors Up - Eshkol Nevo

  

Three Floors Up was the first book by Eshkol Nevo that I read. Without my mum's insistence, I wouldn't have given him a second chance because I didn't particularly enjoy this novel. 

At a superficial read, I considered it the equivalent of a sub-par Yehoshua book. At a deeper read, with its links to Freudian psychoanalysis, I found it pretentious and excessively symbolic and allegorical. 

Of the three floors, the only one I'd honestly try to peek into would be the first, with the over-protective father determined to find out the truth about what happened to his sister despite the risk of ruining everyone's lives; the second floor left me uninterested, and the third one actually kind of annoyed me with the judge appearing as a self-styled deus ex machina of the Israeli street protests.

Judas - Amos Oz

  

A fitting end to the career - and life - of the greatest Israeli author (at least to my knowledge, and in my opinion). This was another book that I surprisingly found in our building's lobby, which was rather unexpected considering how few books by Israeli authors I've seen in stock in London bookshops over the years. 

Judas is a novel of secrets, mysteries, incomprehensions and unfulfilled hopes and desires. It oozes maturity and the wisdom of an old man permeates its pages, and I suspect that there is probably quite a bit of Oz in the reclusive Wald. 

A book that I decided to keep on my Billy bookshelf (despite being a rather large hardback), which is now starting to look decrepit itself and would probably deserve to be replaced.

A Tale of Love and Darkness - Amos Oz

  

I like Oz's novels, I like Oz's children books, and I was clearly bound to like his own autobiography. 

It's long, and that's undeniable. It also often repeats itself, but that's to be expected with a non-linear timeline for some 500-odd pages. Yet, it's fabulously written, and the history (both the capitalized version, and the family history) depicted in the book is obviously fascinating. I don't think I could have coped with 100 more finely printed pages, but man I'm glad that I've read this book. 

And perhaps I should watch Natalie Portman's movie version too...

World Cup Wishes - Eshkol Nevo

 

The front cover of the English edition of this book was so profoundly ugly that I had to use the Italian one for the blog (which is ultimately fine, also because I read the book in Italian after all...).

At first I found it funny that this author's first name was actually the surname of the former Israeli Prime Minister, then I realized that his first name is actually the surname of his grandfather, the former Israeli Prime Minister.

I didn't have great expectations from this novel, as I hadn't particularly liked Three Floors Up, but World Cup Wishes was a very pleasant surprise, and so far is without a doubt the best book I've read in 2023 (yes, it's February 7th, but still, it's best book out of the six that I've read).

Why did I like it, you ask? After all, it's a pretty normal story of love and friendship, against the backdrop of Tel Aviv and Haifa. But I like a bildungsroman that tells the story of someone who is still full of flaws in his 30s, and I like a bildungsroman that tells the story of someone in his 30s in the first place (now try to guess my age...). And the decision to present the book as a manuscript marginally edited by its (fictional) author's friend plays nicely with the mind of the reader, who can't take anyone's word and is left wondering about who's right and who's wrong, but most of all develops an interest for the lives of all characterts, despite not really liking all of them.

A Late Divorce – Abraham B. Yehoshua

Ah, the joy of Israeli literature! Well, actually it’s not as if I loved all Israeli writers, but I do have a soft spot for Yehoshua and Oz (not to mention the fact that this was another book that I got from my grandma’s “collection”…).

Much like most of Yehoshua’s works, this book is magisterially written. The clash between the expat patriarch and pretty much all his family members is both intriguing and ironic, and the confused (and at times confusing) sexuality of one of his sons is so well and carefully presented. I must say I was happy the book wasn’t just a 250-page long stream of consciousness from a young boy, as it looked like at the beginning – I felt like I had read one The Sound and the Fury too many already. And it’s just wonderful to read about fairly normal but fairly unlikable people constantly bickering and gossiping about each other.

The ending is very much clear from the start of the last chapter – I was really hoping that the imposing presence of the man who reminded me so much of Big Chief from One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest was just a red herring, but it wasn’t…

A Perfect Peace – Amos Oz

A random book I picked up without knowing a thing about it (although knowing fully well how much I like Oz’s writing). A really enjoyable read, despite the fact that it took me a couple of weeks to finish it over the holidays (I’ll blame family and friends’ visits – and the consequent lack of quality “me time” – for that).

I always tell my students to read something by Oz or Yehoshua (in the case of the latter I normally refer to his novels, not his borderline senile newspaper columns) to prepare for classes on the Arab-Israeli conflict – they never listen, but at least I try – and A Perfect Peace, with its comments on the Six Day War and more generally on Israeli politics, will clearly be no exception.

The novel is insightful and ironic, in particular in its first half (which the author wrote much earlier than the second part), the comments on life in the kibbutz are deep and informative, and a number of the characters are particularly interesting (the relatively minor ones often more so than the central triangle of Yonatan, Rimona and Azariah). The second half of the novel, however, has an underlying sentimentally that I struggled with…

Mr Mani – Abraham B. Yehoshua

Probably my favourite Israeli book. It is an epic Jewish family history, but one with a twist. Most family histories are either told in straight chronological order or as a prolonged flash-back, this book looks at the stories of five generations of Mr Mani by taking a step backwards every time and talking about the life of the father of the previous Mr Mani. The book is also Yehoshua’s most innovative work from a stylistic point of view: the five chapters are five dialogues, but the words of one of the two interlocutors are always omitted by the author.

The book is a priceless portrayal of the development of Israeli society and of Hebraism in general. It talks about persecution and the path to a Jewish nation, but also about the Arab-Israeli conflict. And somewhat I’ve managed to forget what is the big secret revealed towards the end of the book, and this upsets me so very badly...

Panther in the Basement – Amos Oz

The first book by Amos Oz that I read. Started and finished it in a quiet room in the Louvre, on a day when entry was free, it was pouring outside, and I just had to kill time before flying out of Paris after a few days there.

Unlike Grossman’s books for young adults, this is a book about young adults, but not exclusively for them. It tells the story of a Palestine torn by the British-Zionist conflict, just before it started to be torn by the Arab-Israeli one, a time in which the Jewish were launching terrorist attacks because – as Ben M’Hidi teaches the viewers in The Battle of Algiers – terrorism is the weapon of the poor: “If we have your airplanes it would be a lot easier for us. Give us your bombers, and you can have our baskets”.

The entire book is written with an extremely delicate touch. Obviously, an adult reader (but probably, given the uniqueness of the historical moment and the way Israel has changed since, not even a young reader) cannot identify with the main character, but this doesn’t deter from the book, which remains a novel about a largely underexplored historical period and with quite a number of insightful comments.

The Lover – Abraham B. Yehoshua

  

With age, Yehoshua might have become a bit senile, saying things about the Arab-Israeli dynamics that his younger self would not have said, but The Lover is one of his best works, and one that offers a deep and balanced portrayal of the Yom Kippur war – at least for an absolute outsider like me.

Once the reader grasps the unique family situation depicted in the book, he is bound to be perplexed to say the least – or sceptical at the idea that an agreement like the one between the married protagonists might actually work in real life. Ultimately, however, it doesn’t matter if the agreement works or not: the book, somehow, does.

Like with some of McEwan’s novels it’s written with such a delicate touch that it almost seems feminine, something I found quite surprising. And the fact that a young Palestinian knows Israeli poems by heart is not surprising, it’s sad, but the fact that he tries to conquer the heart of an Israeli girl with those is incredibly endearing, and maybe – just maybe – gives some hope.

The Book of Intimate Grammar – David Grossman

I thought I would have liked Grossman as much as I like Abraham B. Yehoshua and Amos Oz. Possibly even more: while Yehoshua has written some awful articles about how Syrian refugees are stealing the Palestinian jobs that nobody in Israel wants to do, David Grossman has had his life shattered by the death of his son in service for the IDF – the potential for a unique take on Israel and its contradictions almost unparalleled.

After reading Someone to Run With and finding it remarkably insipid I decided to give Grossman one more chance. However, even The Book of Intimate Grammar was rather dull. Who wants to read hundreds and hundreds of pages about the inner trouble of a young kid who can’t fit in and is at his happiest when he can picture himself as a promising young escapist? I might be heartless – no, I am surely heartless – but this book gave me no emotions…