From the author of the acclaimed novel A Pigeon and a Boy comes a charming tale of family ties, over-the-top housekeeping, and the sport of storytelling in Nahalal, the village of Meir Shalev’s birth. Here we meet Shalev’s amazing Grandma Tonia, who arrived in Palestine by boat from Russia in 1923 and lived in a constant state of battle with what she viewed as the family’s biggest enemy in their new dirt.
Grandma Tonia was never seen without a cleaning rag over her shoulder. She received visitors outdoors. She allowed only the most privileged guests to enter her spotless house. Hilarious and touching, Grandma Tonia and her regulations come richly to life in a narrative that circles around the arrival into the family’s dusty agricultural midst of the big, shiny American sweeper sent as a gift by Great-uncle Yeshayahu (he who had shockingly emigrated to the sinful capitalist heaven of Los Angeles!). America, to little Meir and to his forebears, was a land of hedonism and enchanting progress; of tempting luxuries, dangerous music, and degenerate gum-chewing; and of women with painted fingernails. The sweeper, a stealth weapon from Grandpa Aharon’s American brother meant to beguile the hardworking socialist household with a bit of American ease, was symbolic of the conflicts and visions of the family in every respect.
The fate of Tonia’s “svieeperrr”—hidden away for decades in a spotless closed-off bathroom after its initial use—is a family mystery that Shalev determines to solve. The result, in this cheerful translation by Evan Fallenberg, is pure delight, as Shalev brings to life the obsessive but loving Tonia, the pioneers who gave his childhood its spirit of wonder, and the grit and humor of people building ever-new lives.
Meir Shalev (Hebrew: מאיר שלו) was one of Israel’s most celebrated novelists. He received many awards for his work, including the National Jewish Book Award and Israel’s Brenner Prize, both for A Pigeon and a Boy.
A columnist for the Israeli daily Yedioth Ahronoth, Shalev lived in Jerusalem and in northern Israel with his wife and children.
I know next to nothing about Jewish culture, religion or, indeed, the geography of Israel.
None of that matters, this book was a joy. Funny and touching, it glitters and sparkles with the love of life and the dancing reflections of familial relations.
It's particularly well-written, too; every so often a fragment of prose fairly bursts from the text, demanding and capturing the reader's attention with a particulary resplendent turn of phrase, replete with beauty and meaning.
"Although it was forbidden, my mother allowed me to stick my head and arms a little way out the window, and the wind drew smiles on my face"
" "I remember the day your father brought her from the valley to Jerusalem," he said. "She was like a large red flower atop the stones of this sad town". "
And countless others.
Try this, I implore you. It will make your life that much svieeter.
-oOo-
Finally, thank you, Meirav, for such a recommendation of shimmering splendour.
The cover of the English translation of this book does not do it justice. I went in thinking it would be a lighthearted look at an eccentric relative. Instead, it was a deep homage to a woman who came in the Third Aliyah to Palestine from Ukraine, before there was an Israel.
It’s about her, the land she worked so hard to transform from dust into groves, about family, what it means to be Israeli and the descendant of immigrants, and about very many other things, including the namesake vacuum cleaner all the way from Los Angeles. This book has heart, soul, and true literary merit. I’ll be moving onto Shalev’s other works now.
Najosobnejšia Shalevova kniha, v ktorej s veľkou láskou a pochopením rozpráva o svojej babke Toni, dedkovi Áronovi, strýkoch, tetách a všetkom tom krásne nepochopiteľnom, čo sa dialo kdesi ďaleko v izraelskom Nahalale. Pri spoločnom rodinnom čítaní som si veľakrát spomenula na svoju babičku, moju mamu, našu rodinu, ich šetrnosť, nekompromisnosť v niektorých veciach, schopnosť neustále niečo zveľaďovať a robiť krásnym. " kým som nažive, nič odo mňa nedostaneš" vyhráža sa babka Toňa nielen vnukovi Meirovi Shalevovi, hoc možno netuší, že dala už dávno a nezištne- lásku k rodine, schopnosť žiť svoj dlhý a ťažký život so životnou jednoduchou múdrosťou a vďakou k všetkým ľuďom, udalostiam a veciam, ktoré jej prišli do cesty.
This is a charming and fun book, though it felt a bit too long at times. We get to know Shalev's family, not only the titular grandmother, Tonia. As the story meandered along on it's good-humored way, it became clear that Shalev, the "writer" in the family, is just one in a long line of story-tellers, in every sense of the word. The family lived on and got through the best and worst of times through storytelling. If stories were "embroidered" and everyone's version of an event was different and caused friction, well, that was just fodder for more stories. In between and through the stories about Tonia and her "sweeper," I learned something about the killing work demanded of the early Jewish settlers in Palestine and the different ideologies that they lived by and, at times, divided them. But, all this is told through humorous anecdotes. Nothing heavy and ponderous here. I'm still smiling about one story Shalev tells towards the end of the book about bringing a girlfriend to his grandmother's house. The book is worth reading for that story, alone.
Meir Shalev’s הדבר היה ככה (which means "The thing went this way" and not) "My Russian Grandmother and Her American Vacuum Cleaner" is a playful exploration of family, history, and the unexpected. At its core is the arrival of a colossal, chrome-plated vacuum cleaner, a gift that ignites both wonder and resentment. Shalev elevates this ordinary appliance to mythic status, crafting a comedic odyssey around its journey to his grandmother’s home.
Beyond the vacuum’s farcical role, the book offers a tender portrait of Tonia, a woman defined by her meticulousness and unwavering spirit. Her world is momentarily upended by the technological marvel, revealing unexpected cracks in her armor. Meanwhile, Shalev deftly sketches a vibrant family tapestry, capturing their idiosyncrasies with warmth and wit.
Through the lens of this domestic drama, Shalev also offers a glimpse into the formative years of Israel. The novel is infused with the spirit of Zionism, as the characters grapple with the challenges and triumphs of building a new nation. With a storyteller's flair, Shalev conjures a bygone era, infusing his narrative with the rhythms and dialect of the time. It’s a delightful blend of humor, nostalgia, and insight, a testament to the enduring power of ordinary lives against the backdrop of extraordinary times.
שלו זריז ומצחיק שלא מגיע לרמות ספרותיות של יצירותיו האחרות אך עם זאת עדיין אדיר ונהדר.
לבושתי אודה שזה הספר למבוגרים הראשון של מאיר שלו שאני קוראת. עד כה קראתי רק ספרי ילדים שלו ואת הטור השבועי שלו בידיעות. הספר מתרכז סביב דמותה של סבתו של שלו, סבתא טוניה מנהלל, אם אימו, ועל מקרה הנוגע לשואב אבק משוכלל ששלח לה מארה"ב הדוד יהושוע, אחיו של בעלה. סביב סיפור שואב האבק, פורש שלו את סיפור משפחתו המורחבת. ספר ממש ממש מקסים ומרגש, מלא אנושיות, אהבה והומור. כמושבניקית במקור, כל ההתנהלות המשפחתית "בחוץ" הייתה לי מאוד מוכרת ומשעשעת. פשוט נהדר.
Meir Shalev is a fabulous writer and in this very funny and endearing memoir, he tells the story of his obsessively clean grandmother, Tonia, in relation to an American GE vacuum cleaner sent to her by her double traitor brother living in California.
It is the story of Shalev's youth, of life on a moshav in Israel, of the idiosyncrasies of elders transplanted from the old country (in this case Russia) and the effect on modern conveniences on everyday life.
The author has a hilarious way of telling a very personal story about his family and his upbringing with wit and humor that the reader is completely incorporated into the many points of view in family lore.
קורות משפחתו של מאיר שלו. סבתא טוניה וסבא אהרון. וגם הסוויפר שלה - שואב אבק שנשלח מארהב כנקמה ומוצא את עצמו כלוא 40 שנה בחדר האמבטיה . אנקדוטות מחיי המשפחה שכולן סובבות את טוניה מנהגיה, אמירותיה ומחלת הניקיון שלה. הקטע הטוב ביותר בספר הוא המפגש של סבתא טוניה עם אבגייל ונסיונה של אביגייל לרכוש את הסוויפר של סבתא טוניה. קטע קורע שבגללו שווה לקרוא את הספר.
After my first travel to Israel, somebody recommended me to read Meir Shalev. Trusting the good taste of Israeli people (delicious food by the way) I accepted the suggestion and chose this novel.
I was immediately surprised by its hilarious irony, melt with a tender point of view on family and history.
Shalev's voice is hidden behind this narrator: he describes (in the way stories must be properly described, that is to say: the way his family does) the way back to Palestine of his ancestors, born in Ukraine; the difficulties of getting used to live in a different land and the arrival of the American modern way of life.
A vacuum cleaner has never been so well turned into a clear metaphor of what we really want to preserve for ourselves.
Nothing earthshattering, but cute and charming and engaging. In this memoir of his grandmother's fanatical housekeeping, Shalev gives you a sense of the people, the place, and the time. And there was one scene which I found absolutely hysterical.
Incidentally, my husband liked this a lot more than I did which is pretty unusual. So you may want to give it a try despite my lukewarm recommendation. I suspect, though, that a sentimental interest in the time period and its people is helpful.
I enjoyed 'My Russian Grandmother and Her American Vacuum Clear' a great deal. It does tend to meander a little. Sometimes the meandering just enriches the main story; sometimes I think it is actually material for a different book. Meir Shalev's grandmother is the star of this book. Grandmother Tonya was a "character". She was born in Russia and immigrated to Palestine. The author has told of Tonya’s character, goals, likes and dislikes through many humorous stories, most of which are in some way or another connected with the vacuum cleaner made by General Electric.
Tonya had certain phrases that she used often that became her trademark, like starting a family story with ‘This is how it was”. What enchanted me the most about this book is that even though she had an entirely different background from my grandmother, there were some stunning similarities? Both came from farming families. Both had spouses who would just take off at times. Both refused to be idle. Both hated dirt violently. Both used the porch for snapping green beans and plucking chicken feathers off of the future star of the chicken soup. Both demanded that we do not enter through the front door but a different one. Both had their grandchildren be very economical in their trips inside and out. Tonya asked that the trash be taken out by the grandchild; my grandmother asked that the slop for the pigs be taken out. Coming back in, the grandchild, both asked the grandchild to bring eggs back.
But what about the American Vacuum Cleaner? It was a gift to her out of spite for her husband from Uncle Yeshayahu, aka Uncle Sam who lived in Los Angeles. There is a long involved story connected to why this gift was made. You will need to read why was it kept locked up? What after she died, what became of it? Several more stories that explain that or maybe don’t explain what happened to the vacuum cleaner.
Meir Shalev, weaves the family stories about the main events in his grandmother’s life. As he mentions, there are exaggerations as time goes on. But the stories will make you laugh out loud and set you to thinking. One of my favorites is the author wearing read nail polish on his feet, why this happened and the significance of this act.
Meir Shalev is a superb storyteller. I believed that he learned this from his grandmother and his many relatives. Storytelling enriches and explains the family.
Don’t miss this book if you love family stories.
I received this book from the Amazon Vine program but that in no way influenced my review.
Tato kniha nie je taka poeticka, ani nema silny pribeh ako ine zname Shalevove romany. Su to laskyplne a casto velmi vtipne rodinne memoare, v ktorych su jednotlivi ucastnici pospajani cez postavu svojskej, miestami az trochu excentrickej, babky Tone. Velmi som sa bavila na rodinnych frazach, ktore chape kazdy clen rodiny a ktore dokresluju jednotlive postavy ('cestou spat' a 'roztrhnem ta ako hada' babky Tone), ci rozdiely v ideologii. "Presny vyraz, ktory pouzivame dodnes, znie: 'A vraj si robi aj manikuru,' a vyjadruje nizkost, nedostatok hodnot, ideovy a duchovny upadok." Manikura je tu odsudena ako luxus, frivolita, ktora nepatri na nechty pracovnych ruk, ktore musia obrabat a zvedalovat izraelsku zem.
"Dedo Aron vytrvalo bojoval proti manikure a vyhlasil kriziacku vypravu aj proti zuvacke, presnejsie proti 'nezmyselnemu zviakaniu', co bol dalsi prejav upadkoveho amerikanizmu, ku ktoremu priradoval take nechcene a nedovolene vyrobky a zvyky ako cukriky, kravaty, dane a iny 'luxus', ako spolu s ostatnymi starcami nazyval vsetky burzoazne americke rozkose a vlastne vsetky rozkose, ktore sa neobmedzovali na hrncek caju a 'sledie chvosty', ako dedo nazyval celeho sleda."
"A najvacsmi sa mi pacili slova, ktore hovorila, ked niekto zomrel (a vzdy v zenskom rode, aj ked umrel muz): 'Uz jej niet,' k comu vzapati dodala: 'Strasna smrt.' Nebola to gramaticka chyba, ale jej jazykove vynalezy, ktore rodina s radostou prevzala. Dodnes vravievame 'Uz jej niet,' ci zomrie zena alebo muz alebo dokonca havaruje auto, a dodavame: 'Strasna smrt', aj ked dotycny zomrel na obycajnu starobu."
Do you have any relatives? Then you'll love this entirely remarkable book. Meir Shalev's grandmother Tonia may be a Ukrainian by birth, and a member of a small agricultural settlement in Israel by marriage and fate, and she may be crazier than any of your kin, but you'll be amused, touched and moved by her. Everyone needs an enemy, Shalev tells us, and Tonia's was dirt. She drove herself and everyone around her to keep her house clean. Surrounded by fields and roads that were, in turn, muddy and dusty, she developed ways to keep things clean, cleaner than her neighbors, cleaner than her sisters-in-law. There are other relatives as well, of course, including the brother-in-law who had the vacuum cleaner sent to Tonia (for whatever reasons of his own), and who can't believe what she does with the appliance. And there's Shalev's beloved mother, the story-teller, the glue of the family, who died too soon. Special mention should be made of Evan Fallenberg, who translates Shalev's Hebrew so fluently that for a while I assumed that Tonia was speaking English.
Overtuigend over je eigen familie schrijven. Het blijft moeilijk, zelfs voor de grootste schrijvers. Dit is de eerste Shalev die ik niet zo goed vind. Ik maak het me makkelijk en kopieer de mening die een vorige lezer in het boek neerschreef: “Zoveel zwakker dan zijn schitterende meesterwerken (De kus van Esau, De vier maaltijden, Russische roman). Een tussendoor kroniek, onderhoudende en knappe vertelling, maar niets meer. Wie dit boek als eerste boek van Shalev leest, zal misschien nooit nog een ander van hem lezen”. Dat zou inderdaad spijtig zijn. Meer dan eens moest ik een paar alinea’s, tot zelfs hele bladzijden terugkeren, omdat stukken in het verhaal me niet boeiden. Omdat ik me erop betrapte dat ik op automatische piloot aan het lezen was zonder te vatten wat er stond. Dat was bijlange niet het geval bij zijn andere werken. Desalniettemin blijft mijn liefde voor Shalev groot. Op naar ‘Russische roman’.
Shalev, author of A Pigeon And A Boy, writes with humor and love about growing up in Israel as a part of a family of Russian emigrants. His grandmother came to Israel in 1923, married and raised a family, constantly struggling to keep her house clean in the dusty Jezreel Valley. When Grandma Tonia's brother-in-law sent her a vacuum cleaner from America, she used it only once, and hidden away to keep it from getting dirty, the vacuum cleaner became almost mythological to Shalev as he grew up. This is a lovely little memoir that examines family history, story telling and the making (and making up) of memories.
I enjoyed A Pigeon and A Boy. This memoir is a much more accessible and appealing book.
I expected this book to be a somewhat lighthearted remembrance of a grandmother and her adjustment problems to the advent of modern technology. Instead this book told the story of a dirt obsessed woman who would not let people use the bathroom or other rooms in her house because they would dirty them. Literally people had to shower outside and wash in a trough. She wouldn't use her vacuum cleaner once she realized that the dirt went inside and, by her lights, would therefor have to be totally disassembled and cleaned every day. Although I did finish the book and there were some good moments, overall it was very depressing. A women who escaped the progroms so obsessed by dirt that she could not appreciate her good fortune.
Lovely, lovely translation where the biblical references shine through. Funny memoir of a founding family in Israel, pathos and humor, and a charming end. Will definitely be racing to read more of Shalev, which I haven't, and to buy the book to have at the home library.
Lang niet zo adembenemend als 'Een geweer, een koe, een boom en een vrouw' - dat is dan ook een boek hors catégorie - maar Shalev toont zich ook hier een meester van de compositie.
Die Geschichte hat Substanz – aber sie lebt nicht von klassischer Spannung, sondern von Atmosphäre und Erinnerungen. Es ist keine „große“ Handlung mit Höhepunkten und Wendungen, sondern eher ein Mosaik aus Szenen, Menschen und Gefühlen. Das ist literarisch reizvoll, aber nicht für jeden zugänglich (aka todlangweilig). Wenn man erwartet, dass etwas „passiert“, wird man enttäuscht. Wenn man aber zuhört, wie eine Familie sich selbst durch Erzählung am Leben hält, dann trifft es einen (möglicherweise) auf einer stillen, tiefen Ebene.
Die Sprache ist präzise, oft poetisch. Die Figuren sind eigen, greifbar, widersprüchlich – wie echte Menschen. Allerdings gibt es kaum Tempo. Äußerst langatmig - habe das Buch häufig nach nur einem Kapitel wieder auf Seite gelegt.
Unterm Strich: Ein stilles, kluges Buch über Identität, Herkunft, Verlust und die Macht des Erzählens. Kein Pageturner, nichts für mich, aber ich maße mir nicht an, das als allgemeines Urteil gelten zu lassen. Literatur muss ja nicht jedem gefallen, um Wert zu haben.
I have had a hard time rating this book. I wanted to love it. I did like it. I hard a hard time getting through it though and it’s a short book. I fell asleep every few pages. On one hand, that irked me. On the other, I was impressed with the authors ability to put me to sleep so quickly. Even though I was reading (not an audiobook) it felt like a nighttime story. So, 3 or 4 stars depending. Right now I’m not feeling generous with the extra star.
This delightfully funny family memoir tells many versions of family stories about the author's unusual dirt-phobic grandmother and her shiny American vacuum cleaner sent her by a relative which she wrapped up and enshrined in an unused bathroom--because it got dirty during use and she couldn't abide anything dirty in her house. Along the way, the book also explores family dynamics, the incredible binding power of family story/myth, and the variable nature of family memory. Every bit as original and fun as it sounds.
What a delightful book full of wonderful family stories of the Shalev family. The writer obviously draws a lot of inspiration from his own experiences as I recognised themes and events that appear in his books that I have read. I now look forward to reading the ones that I haven’t had the pleasure of reading yet.
Geweldige verteller, Meir Shalev. Hij verstaat de kunst om verhalen als verschillende draadjes te beschouwen. Hij neemt de uiteinden vast en begint te weven. Over en onder elkaar gaan de draadjes en plots, vanuit het zorgvuldig geweven tapijt haalt hij die uiteinden weer tevoorschijn en houdt ze je voor de neus. En voor je uit je betovering bent gerukt, is hij al weer druk in de weer, de draadjes te verstoppen onder nieuwe patronen. De uiteinden duiken aan het eind niet noodzakelijk weer op. Shalev stopt ze behendig onder elkaar. Maar jij, als lezer weet, voelt dat de uiteinden dáár zitten en je weet hoe ze daar zijn gekomen. Zalig boekje.
Empecé a leer este libro esperando otra cosa. Resulta que aunque el libro tiene ficción, en su mayoría es real. Si bien se aclara en la sinopsis que es una mezcla, me esperaba más ficción de la que encontré, y eso me decepcionó un póco. También esperaba más acerca de la cultura eslava, pero en realidad habla más de la cultura judía, así que no me ví ni a mi ni a mi familia tan reflejada en el libro como esperaba. Al ser un libro que no es puramente ficción se me hizo tedioso y pesado por momentos pero, llegando al último tercio del libro, se puso bastante interesante, por eso se quedó con esa puntuación y no con una más baja