Alternate parts switch between the third person narrated
tale of a nameless wealthy lawyer (always referred to as “the lawyer”) and the
first person narrated story of an alienated social worker who drifts through
his days and spends his nights earning extra income by being a live in carer
for a comatose Jew, “Yonatan”.
“The lawyer” visits a bookshop on a weekly basis buying the “book
of the week” that was featured in the local media and occasionally buys a
second hand “classic” but to maintain appearances always asks the store attendant
to gift wrap these purchases. One day he buys a second hand copy of Tolstoy’s “The
Kreutzer Sonata” (a first person narrative describing a husband’s jealous rage
that leads to him killing his wife), inside he finds a love letter, written in
his wife’s hand. He is also besieged by jealous rage and decides to hunt down
the book’s previous owner, simply known by an inscription on the title page, “Yonatan”.
Our social worker, Amir Lahab, is socially awkward, was
brought up in an isolated village by his single mother and wants to leave his low
Arab lifestyle behind. His work for the disabled Yonatan brings him in contact
with alternative music, classic literature and photography – he spends his
nights rebuilding Yonatan’s past by rummaging through his things. A better life
could await Amir, who bears a striking resemblance to his patient Yonatan, if
only he could steal the other’s identity.
Our novel contains a large number of sections devoted purely
to what it is like to be an Arab in Jerusalem:
Lawyers, accountants, tax
advisors, and doctors – brokers between the noncitizen Arabs and the Israeli
authorities, a few thousand people, living within Jerusalem but divorced from
the locals among whom they reside. They will always be seen as strangers,
somewhat suspicious, but wholly indispensable. Without them who would represent
the residents of east Jerusalem and the surrounding villages in the
Hebrew-speaking courts and tax authorities, against the insurance companies and
the hospitals? Not that there is any great lack of doctors, lawyers, or
economists among the east Jerusalem Arabs, but what can be done if, more often
than not, the Israeli authorities do not accept their credentials? A higher
education from somewhere in the West Bank or from another part of the Arab
world does not suffice in Israel; a whole slew of supplementary material and a
battery of tests, the vast majority of which are in Hebrew, are required. A few
of the east Jerusalemites actually push through the gruelling Israeli
accreditation process, but the lawyer also knew that many of the locals
preferred to be represented by someone who was a citizen of the state of
Israel. He, so the lawyer felt they thought, was surely more familiar with the
workings of the Jewish mind and soul. He, they believed, could not have
attained his position in life without connections, kosher or otherwise. Somehow,
in the eyes of the locals, the Arab citizens of Israel where considered to be
half-Jewish.
Personally I found these “political rants” a distraction, it
is fine to give us context and a time and place for our character’s actions but
the relentless preaching about Arabs vs Jews, the life in the villages etc.
became a tad tedious.
Splitting the novel into a first person and third person
narrative was also a distraction. Interestingly this novel also appears under
the title of “Second Person Singular” and that is probably a better title than
the reference to Amir’s and Yonatan’s black and white photography and the play
on “exposure” for the lawyer to find the true story of his wife’s love letter.
Both of our protagonists here are filled with self-doubt and
are constantly questioning their own self-worth:
Maybe at some point he really
would come across what they called a soul mate. Maybe now that he was older,
more organized, more aware of his wants, more in control of his thoughts, he
would be able to discern between temporary lust and sustainable love. Maybe now
he would be able to find a woman he could sleep next to every night, maybe he
would feel the warmth of her body seeping into his bones, granting him a tranquillity
he had never known. The lawyer saw before his eyes a faceless woman, but he
knew she had the face of an angel and she slept peacefully in his arms, her
face smooth, a happy sheen across her cheeks. He imagined them sleeping
harmoniously together, completing one another in their sleep, too, wrapped in a
comfortable embrace, moving their bodies with complete synchronicity, always
fitting together. For a moment he felt a rush of warmth in his heart. Maybe all
of those romantic poets were right? Maybe he shouldn’t have been so dismissive
of their words? Maybe he shouldn’t have been so sceptical of what was clearly a
sublime sensation?
Maybe this, maybe that, I tell you this novel contains a
truckload of “maybes”. Personally I found the story rather implausible, it
reads like one of Sayed Kashua’s soap opera plots. I can see the movie rights
being bought up and a mystery thriller edge being added for a blockbuster
release. All good and well if your reading choices are the “best seller” lists,
but this is on a list for the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize, a Prize I
thought showcased the writing skills and translating skills throughout the
globe.
An easy read, that has a nice ending but not a novel that
will make the short list of this award for mine (you watch it will probably win
it!!!)
1 comment:
Very interesting how the UK version has a name and cover which scream thriller, while the US version tries to go more up-market. Funnily enough, I think the UK people were closer to the mark ;)
Post a Comment