Kafka, the Middle East Version

 

What if Kafka had been lived in the Middle East? Would his writing be even more painful and heartaching? How absurd life can be, especially when humans meet the institutions made by men?

Although acknowleding her disillusioning, Lizzie Doron is far from being an apologetic for one cause or another. At least not in Who the Fuck is Kafka, a personal account of an encounter with a Palestinian writer, Nadim, at a Peace Conference in Rome. I had access to this book in audiobook format in an exceptional arrangement played, among others by Corinne Kirchhoff, translated from Hebrew into German by the late Mirjam Pressler. 

Doron´s first person account can be compared from the point of view of the information with the stories of Sayed Kashua. It starts though as a two-way effort to understand the situation of Palestinians, through coming back and forth from fears to compassion and human understanding. The voice of the author, as an Israeli living in the proximity of the terrorist attacks of the Second Intifada, a mother, daughter of a Holocaust survivor. 

It is important to try to understand the other side, it is the first step towards trust, but it is not enough though. Personally, I want to see solutions, I want to see a future without conflict, but how exactly this future may look like should be the task of people living there. Although now I am more informed about the conflict as I was 5 or even 4 years ago, I am still convinced that peace has two different meanings for each of the two sides. Will it be possible, any time soon, to go out of the kafkian paradigm?

Effingers, a German Jewish Story

 

German-born Gabriele Tergit - born Elise Hirschmann - is a relatively new name for the German literary realm. Her multi-generational roman, Effingers, following a family story of a liberal Jewish family from the 19th century until the mid-20th was published only a couple of years ago.

The family base is in the fictional Kragsheim, but the book also offers an extensive historical and social panorama of Germany during those times, particularly Berlin, through the eyes of the Jewish characters. The book was written in German and finished in 1951. Tergit, the mother of the mathematician Ernst Robert Reifenberg, - whose name was given to a street in Berlin - was born in Germany but escaped the country via Palestine before reaching London where she settled.

Effingers is a very dense novel with many characters who are connecting in different circumstances. Their social mobility and modernity is reflected through their choices and new family connections built on the go. Tergit is a fine observer of the emerging social structures as well as of the Jewish society at the time. In addition to the rich nonfiction bibliography on this topic, the literary contribution is valuable for its authenticity and vicinity to the facts mentioned and the overall social realm. The writer is not only a creator of fictional words but indirectly a witness. 

For a compedium of European Jewish literature, Effingers is of particular importance as an unique - for me, at least - literary saga. A translation of the book into English or French would have offer to the non-German speakers access to an important source of literary testimony about Jewish everyday life in Germany before the Nazi destruction. 

Der gebrauchte Jude

 

Maxim Biller arrived from Czechoslovakia to Germany as an early teen. His Jewish Soviet-born family was forced to leave country after country in order to escape the anti-semitism and political pressures. 

´Ich bin Jude, weil ich keine Russe, Tschecke oder Deutsche sein will´. (I am Jewish, as I don´t want to be Russian, Czech or German - my translation). 

His story is a story of Jewish life in the 1980s, at a time when Jews - Jews coming to live in Germany particularly - were a rare occurrence. Those living there already in public positions - like the literary critic Marcel Reich-Ranicki that Biller randomly interviewed as he 24 years old - were rare and rather were introduced in a ´clean´ narrative of the post-WWII Germany. A rhetoric of the kind: You see, we don´t kill all our Jews, some of them are even allowed to return? From this perspective, there may be some Jews who accepted to be publicly used in this way.

As someone who haven´t lived in Germany those years, such an autobiographical account fills up many details about what really Jewish life meant at the time. I may not say that now it is better or things are improved, but there are different pieces of the puzzle that may come together differently. 

At the same time, the book is also a book about coming-at-age in Germany as a non-German Jew, finding your literary way and thinking at length about having - or not - a place in this complex realm. It is not a philosophical approach too, and there is a lot of Czech-alike humour that is still very useful for surviving Germany, particularly if you take your Jewish identity seriously. 

PS: On purpose I will not mention anything at all about the recent Biller-Czollek ´halachic´ debate

Jerusalem, Drawn&Quartered

´I wanted for someone to hiss at me. I waited for a rock to gaze my temple. Instead, I had dessert´.

For one year, Sarah Tuttle-Singer took the decision to spend as much as possible time exploring the borders and points of contact - if any - of the many quarters of Jerusalem. ´I want to live here in Jerusalem, in the Old City, and move between the quarters and understand each one, and feel a part of each one as much as an outsider like me can´.

I´ve slowly read this memoir, trying to remember the scents and the buzz and the voices of a place where I´ve spent many hundreds of hours, that I miss dearly. But compared to her, I´ve mostly walked the beaten path, moving in circle around the same areas, interacting almost with the same people, having my food fix in the same places. Most of the people, even those living in Israel for ever are probably doing the same. Not daring to threshold their own boundaries.

What Sarah Tuttle-Singer revealed in this year of wandering the beaten roads of the Old City round the four seasons was the divisions that remain but also the search for a different language and a reality that can be perceived from different angles. After all, even the heart of the fiercest Salafist enemy of ´the occupation´ will melt holding in his arms a few days old kitten. 

There is no recipe for peace or hope for one, but it is a journey through reality seen with clean eyes. Eyes who are not searching for Gd or sublime transfigurations, but for human connections and layers of memories. Because there is not only the history - with H - or the conflict - with C - that matters, but how we are part of a bigger story - with simple s - made of all the steps of the people who ever paced those stones. Like her mother, and her grandmother who kissed on a roof. 

Jerusalem Drawn&Quartered is a memoir of finding a place when you do not belong fully, or rather reaching the freedom given by the reality of living in-between languages, worlds, stories. Like the mermaid she tattooed on her arm where else ? in decade-old studio in the Old City. ´Mermaids are a lot like immigrants that way. To others, we are both a little familiar, and a little frightening. To ourselves, we belong in both places, but not really in either´. 

Israel remains a country of people and many histories, of blood, tears but nevertheless of survival. This feeling gives you strength, even in the most hopeless world. No matter what NYT will try to make you believe, it´s one of the happiest places on Earth, one of the places I always feel happy, and I can´t only wait to be back and see with my own fresh eyes some of the places featured by Sarah Tuttle-Singer in this perceptive memoir, including the tattoo parlour.