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…
No comments:
Post a Comment