Сямейная сага чатырох пакаленняў ізраільцаў. Гісторыя пачынаецца ў 1920-х, у забалочанай Ізрээльскай даліне, куды прыбываюць габрэі-рэпатрыянты Магілёўшчыны, Міншчыны, Чарнігаўчыны, Кіеўшчыны, а таксама іншых куткоў Усходняй і Цэнтральнай Еўропы. Аповед у духу магічнага рэалізму — гэта перапляценне чалавечых і звярыных лёсаў, гісторый змагання з дзікай прыродай і ўласнай натурай. Нежартоўныя жарсці герояў разгортваюцца на фоне змагання Ізраіля за дзяржаўнасць.
У цэнтры рамана — канфлікт паміж жыхарамі паселішча і ўнукам першапраходца Якава Міркіна Барухам, што арганізаваў на грамадскай зямлі камерцыйныя могілкі, пахаванне на якіх зрабілася модай для габрэяў свету. Да чаго прывядзе супрацьстаянне паміж Камітэтам і наглядчыкам Дома Вечнасці для Першапраходцаў, дзе пахаваныя «274 дзяды і бабкі, адзін мул і адна мандаліна», дазнаюцца чытачы, якія пройдуць пакручастымі сцежкамі сюжэта да канца.
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.
A brilliant novel about the legacy of Israel's pioneering tradition and foundation (originally published under the Hebrew title 'A Russian Novel' in 1988). A small group of jewish Ukrainian pioneer immigrants settle in the Jezreel Valley in Ottoman Palestine in the beginning of the twentieth century, many years before Israel officially became a State.
It portraits three generations of people, who live in a farm community (a co-op or moshav), founded by these pioneers. All the stories are told by the grandson of one of these early pioneers, in no particular order. He jumps back and forth in time, between the many different characters, so it's not an easy, but a rewarding read. His characters live in deep connection with nature and are part of an extended family and a close-knit rural village community.
All the characters in the book are portrayed with immense richness and emotion, but also with a great deal of irony. These people are heroic and absurd at the same time. Nature, animals, farming and also elements of fantasy and myth are stylishly woven into the intriguing stories about the eccentric inhabitants of the village.
It's not surprising that Meir Shalev himself is a grandson of pioneering Ukrainian immigrants from Nahalal, the oldest moshav of Israel.
A story of an early Jewish settlement in Israel, beginning shortly after the Balfour Declaration in 1917 (during WW I), when thousands of immigrants arrived in Israel from Russia and Ukraine.
Our narrator is a contemporary young man who listens to old timer’s tales about the early days before the village declined in population. He tries to sort out fact from fiction in the heroic stories. The chapters go back and forth in time, foreshadowing, repeating, and adding to the major stories.
The young man, a big hunky guy, lives in an agricultural village co-op, but it’s not a kibbutz. Although the word is not used in the book, I believe his settlement is called a moshav. It is different from the communal land of a kibbutz because farmers in the co-op own their land.
The young man’s parents were killed by a terrorist firebomb and he was brought up by his grandfather, whom he idolizes. He also idolizes his older male teacher who just overflows with knowledge and enthusiasm and recognizes the youth as one of his best pupils in a lifetime of teaching.
So this bright young man devoted to two older men lives by himself on a farm. We learn nothing about his sex life other than that “women don’t interest him.” [Oddly, I quoted this exact phrase said by a young Moroccan man in a review I posted last week of The Simple Past by Driss Chraibi.]
One of his hobbies is spying on others in the village, so we learn a lot about what’s going on in the co-op that way. In another sense it’s a sad story of a boy who never grew up. He has the idea of creating a cemetery on his farm and discovers that he can make more money by selling burial plots than by farming. Families bring the bodies of former co-op residents from other areas of Israel and from New York and Europe to be buried where they used to live.
As the narrator learns, we also learn a lot about nature from the stories of the teacher and about farm techniques and agricultural experiments from both men, so in part this is a “nature book” with a lot of farm lore, information about the seasons, and naturalist stories about birds, animals and insects.
The Blue Mountain is an intriguing book and a pleasant read. Blue Mountain was the author’s (1948-) first novel and he has written a half-dozen others. All are highly rated (over 4.0) on GR’s rating system. He’s best-known for A Pigeon and a Boy, 2007, which won the National Jewish Book Award. He’s also a newspaper columnist and he writes non-fiction and children’s books.
Top photo of a moshav from wikipedia.com The author from israeliamerican.org
Am avut, de-a lungul întregului roman, senzația că nu știu cine povestește. Shalev a demonstrat că stăpânește foarte bine arta aceasta intrigantă și oferă cititorului un amplu arsenal de descrieri, întâmplări istorice, dar și multă magie în ceea ce privește întemeierea unei așezări omenești.
"Noaptea aud marea vuind și spumegând, năvălind din afara ferestrelor temniței mele albe, și mă gândesc la toate zgomotele astea permanente, care nu încetează în veci. Sunete care cer urechii să se aplece înadins asupra lor ca să le audă. Vântul printre arborii casuarina, plesniturile stropitoarelor mecanice, clipocitul izvorului, molfăitul rumagatului, târșâitul târâtoarelor pe sub podeaua barăcii." "Inima mea de-acum nu mai e sensibilă la priveliștea mării. Nu-i mai aud zgomotul valurilor decât arareori, doar când vreau dinadins să aud. Și priveliștea valurilor a încetat de mult să mă hipnotizeze. Când e atât de aproape de tine, marea își pierde amenințarea care e ascunsă în ea. Pare moale și leneșă, se îmblânzește și se răsfață și se unduiește în soare, și chiar în zilele de iarnă, când devine cenușie și plină de amărăciune, iar ploaia o umple cu bășici mititele, pare că doar glumește."
This is a fascinating book about European Jewish pioneers, building their lives in the Jezreel valley with the second aliyah. There is barely any plot as we become acquainted with a bunch of larger than life characters from three generations through various stories. While there is no main story, we get an overall feel of life in the village, and get to know intimately the few families associated with the Feyge Levin Workingman’s Circle. The stories move between the factual (I presume) and the purely entertaining. We get a big dose of cows, crops, agriculture, bees, etc. It is after all an agrarian society. But the stories are engaging and funny. We share in the characters triumphs and hardships, their hopes and fears.
The one common theme throughout is identity. Did the pioneers belong to a particular race, religion or nation? Where did their loyalties lie? What were their dreams and who did they want to be? They switched between Yiddish and their European languages. Even though they were from a race with very prominent religious history, some no longer saw the role of religion in their lives. Although they had different goals, the villagers shared a common desire to be buried in Grandfather’s plot of land and as such, to be recognized as pioneers.
The story is told through the eyes of Baruch, a physically imposing man, who is like a guardian of the village. A key figure was his Grandfather, Mirkin, the de facto Patriach of the village. He married fellow pioneer Feyge but it was a marriage born out of pragmatism rather than of love. His heart still belonged to Crimean whore Shulamit, like some kind of longing for the past or for the old country. I wonder if some of the relationships are allegorical. There were many other interesting characters like Pinness, the school teacher, who was like the scribe of their pioneer history. There was Uri, the Don Juan of the village, with his blunt observations and humorous quips. Even a human-like pioneer mule called Zeitser with a knack for exacting revenge.
Overall, not quite the level of writing as “A Pigeon and a Boy” but nonetheless an enjoyable read.
Israeli magical realism. Now, I love me some magical realism, and this book is one of the finest examples I've come across in a long, long time. As a new resident of Israel - and one without previous ties to the country - I really didn't know that much about the early history of the state. The book is set in a moshav (the less famous type of Israeli farming commune), and introduces the history without the historical events...you get a feel for the period without the usual event-dropping that comes up a lot in historical fiction. There is a bit of name-dropping, but Israel is a small country...it's realistic that they would be interacting with the founding fathers of the state.
But Shalev isn't interested in the history of the period as much as the spirit. And he's read his Garcia Marquez - the feel of the book is very reminiscent of 100 Years of Solitude or Love in the Time of Cholera, but without being derivative. Heartily recommended, although I'm not sure how easy it is to find outside of Israel. I'm always glad to loan out my copy, though :)
If I enjoy my own freedom, which means to follow my own instincts and use my own reason, I come to my own conclusion that Blue Mountain is a worthy, precious book, so I feel at liberty to put forward a couple of remarks about it. It is not an easy novel but not because of plot or story narrated, but of the structure itself which is moving back and forth, every 2-3 pages. This, it may be, is one of the first difficulties that faces a reader when tackling it. Consequently, there may well seem to be nothing but a conglomeration and huddle of confusion, yet this can be overcome if patience can be exercised, so please be mindful not to give up before too soon. In fact I was myself ready to quit it, but not being fully convinced of my mood, I left it aside for some weeks, and just recently decided to go forward with it, embracing myself for the full journey. It was a wise move and I am glad I finished it with pleasure. So this turns to be a blocking point, how are we to bring order into a multitudinous chaos and get to a deep and wide pleasure from what we read.
There is not clear or straightforward plot. I didn’t even miss it. I have enjoyed the multitude of characters popping up while the tale was moving back and forth, with their peculiar and very interesting episodes, as affecting, impacting or triggered by each character. I recognized for myself that I have approached the book with a blurred and divided mind, yet I decided from the beginning that it’s not needed to ask if fiction shall be true. I just wanted and tried, don’t know if I fully managed, to banish all my preconceptions when I was reading it, and try to become the writer himself, so that I could better enjoy the book.
There were several events in the story that had left a distinct impression on me, and moved me sensibly, as lot of stuff seemed to be contained in those moments. But when I tried to reconstruct it in words, my own, I have found that it broke into a hundred conflicting impressions. Anyways, some had to subdue, others emphasized, yet in the process, I have felt I have lost all grasp upon the emotion itself. No easy task to write about own emotions, so I was better able to appreciate the mastery of the author, because he really made me feel I was living in a different world, and my relation was with people, nature and destiny overall.
I read the book to satisfy that curiosity which possessed me when I bought it from the bookshop, and it turned that I was truly consumed with the curiosity about the lives of those people involved in the story, and eventually unfolded in little details as who are they, what are they, what are their names, their occupations, their thoughts, and adventures, in a words about their daily affairs, failing, succeeding, eating, hating, loving, until they die. The greater part of the book is nothing but the record of such fleeting moments in the lives of men, women, and donkeys, a record of vanished moments and forgotten lives. If you give yourself up to the delight of this book reading, you might be surprised, or overcome, by the relics of human life that have been cast out to fit the story.
"He must dream of giant Nazi radishes getting fat on protozoa shit."
"The cow kicked Rilov in the head, and for half an hour he lay in manure with no sense."
Shalev is one of my most favorite living writers, and part of his charm comes from him being eminently unclassifiable and incomparable. I'd be hard pressed to give you parallels to convince you to read his stuff, so I won't bother. I can say his novels are lush, sensuous, and hilarious folk stories, usually centering on pre-independence Palestine and the Jewish immigrants trying to make good a new life on the land. Usually, there is a more contemporary component, wistfully observing the past. In this case, the story focuses on Baruch, caretaker for a graveyard of original pioneers, remembering stories of his grandparents' settling in a little valley below the titular mountain, their wacky neighbors and friends and all their shenanigans. Think a Wes Anderson film set in Mandate Palestine, maybe. "Israel's land, you can't throw a stone in this country without hitting some holy place or madman," moans one character when the zaniness starts to reach its zenith. Since the novel is largely patchwork, detective-like piecing together of the immigrants' lives, there isn't much of a plot to speak of, it's almost episodic and the mysteries only slowly evolve into shape (one character turns out to be a farm animal halfway through the book!). Much loved, much recommended.
A brilliant novel about the legacy of Israel's pioneering tradition and foundation (originally published under the Hebrew title 'A Russian Novel' in 1988). A small group of jewish Ukrainian pioneer immigrants settle in the Jezreel Valley in Ottoman Palestine in the beginning of the twentieth century, many years before Israel officially became a State.
It portraits three generations of people, who live in a farm community (a co-op or moshav), founded by these pioneers. All the stories are told by the grandson of one of these early pioneers, in no particular order. He jumps back and forth in time, between the many different characters, so it's not an easy, but a rewarding read. His characters live in deep connection with nature and are part of an extended family and a close-knit rural village community.
All the characters in the book are portrayed with immense richness and emotion, but also with a great deal of irony. These people are heroic and absurd at the same time. Nature, animals, farming and also elements of fantasy and myth are stylishly woven into the intriguing stories about the eccentric inhabitants of the village.
It's not surprising that Meir Shalev himself is a grandson of pioneering Ukrainian immigrants from Nahalal, the oldest moshav of Israel.
“Nas noites de Verão, o Avô gostava de se sentar à mesa da cozinha com a camiseta desbotada e os calções azuis de trabalho, enchendo a sala de fumo e de cheiros suaves de madeira enquanto agitava as pernas torcidas pelo trabalho e revivia memórias e iniquidades. Tinha o hábito de rabiscar os seus pensamentos em pedacinhos de papel, que mais tarde flutuavam pela sala como enxames de borboletas em migração. Continuava à espera de quem quer que fosse que tinha perdido. «Vê-los de novo tornarem-se carne diante dos meus olhos», encontrei uma vez escrito numa nota que me veio parar à mão.”
“O Avô não quisera deixar a cabana. Plantador de árvores, era um amante da madeira. - Uma casa de madeira respira, sua, e move-se – dizia-me ele. – Não há duas pessoas que façam o mesmo ruído ao entrar nela.”
“O Avô não se lembrava. Palavras como «Lembras-te…» deixavam-no indiferente. Além disso, eu sabia que ele não podia falar porque tinha uma azeitona na boca e a chupava lentamente enquanto sorvia o chá. «Ou comes ou te lembras», dissera-me ele uma vez. «Não podes mastigar tudo ao mesmo tempo.»”
“-Primeiro que tudo, fá-la rir – disse Liberson ao filho. – As mulheres gostam disso. Não conseguem resistir. - O riso – dizia Bandolim – é o clangor da trombeta que derruba as muralhas de Jericó. É o abre-te sésamo para as cavernas do tesouro mágico, as primeiras gotas de chuva de Outono que caem na terra seca. - Bem dito – aprovou Liberson com um olhar de surpresa ao seu amigo. Mas, nessa altura, Daniel estava bem longe de qualquer possibilidade de riso. O seu sentido de humor, na verdade, fora a primeira vítima do seu amor rejeitado. - Flores! Canções! Música! – declarou Bandolim. - Basta, Tsirkin – disse Liberson. – E voltando-se para o filho perguntou: - De que gosta ela mais? - De carne – respondeu o envergonhado Daniel. Liberson e Tsirkin puseram-se a cozinhar.”
הספר "רומן רוסי" מתאר 3 דורות של מתיישבים בעמק יזרעאל, החל מהעליה השניה ועד למחצית המאה ה- 20. הסיפור נמסר ע"י ברוך, נכדו של יעקב מירקין, ממקימי הישוב. ברוך בנם של אסתר (בתו של יעקב מירקין) ובינימין (עולה מגרמניה) שוכל את הוריו באירוע חבלני רצחני וגדל אצל סבו. כך סופג ברוך את סיפורי דור הזקנים על הקמת הישוב.
במרכז הסיפור עומדת "קבוצת העבודה על שם פייגה", קבוצת חלוצים הכוללת את יעקב מירקין, אליעזר ליברסון, צירקין מנדולינה, פייגה ושלמה לווין.
יעקב מירקין שעלה מאוקראינה, הותיר מאחוריו את אהובתו שולמית, ולאורך כל הסיפור רוחה שורה כצל מריר שממאן לעזוב. הוא נאת פייגה עימה הוא מוליד את אברהם, אפרים ואסתר. שלושתם כשלו ביעודם כממשיכי אביהם: אברהם שבתחילה מצליח בעבודת המשק ופרותיו נותנות חלב רב, עוזב עם אישתו לחו"ל. אפרים מתגייס לצבא האנגלי, לאחר שנפגע באופן מחריד בפניו הוא חוזר לכפר אך בני הכפר מתעלמים ממנו ואינם מקבלים אותו. הוא עוזב את הכפר לטובת שיטוטים בעולם ודרכו לא נודעה. אסתר בוחרת בפועל הפשוט בינימין על פני דניאל בן ממשיך שהופך לחקלאי דגול. היא כאמור נהרגת בפיגוע רצחני.
הספר מתאר שלב אחר שלב את התפוררות החזון הציוני ההתיישבותי ואת כישלון כיבוש האדמה כאשר הנכד, ברוך, מביא את התהליך לשיאו המחפיר כשהוא הופך את האדמה מחקלאית לאדמת קבורה שם הוא קובר את סבו ובמשך הזמן את בני העלייה השניה השונים בתמורה לדולרים רבים.
הספר מתאר בלשון חיה את העקרונות, המאבקים, הרגשות העזים והקנאות הבוערות בתוך קבוצת המייסדים. מאיר שלו מגחיך את התחרות בין חברי הקבוצה כששלמה לווין, שהיה פקיד רו"ח במקצועו, מתנכל לאורך שנים לפרד הנאמן ומנסה להורגו באחת הסצנות המחרידות וההזויות בספר. הפרד לאחר שנוקם את נקמתו המזוויעה גם היא, שם נפשו בכפו ומתאבד תחת גלגלי משאית החלב.
בני הדור השני מתגלים רובם כחדלי יכולת ואישים ובני הדור השלישי נוטשים את החזון והאדמה למעט המספר הנשאר במושב לקיים את צוואת סבו.
חלקים מהספר כתובים ביד אומן. אנקדוטות עצובות ונוגעות ללב כמו הפרק שמתאר כיצד מורה הכפר, פינס, מתעד בפינקסו את חייהם הסודיים של משפחות הכפר דרך מה שהוא רואה אצל הילדים. מי מהילדים עובד קשה מידי במשק וקם מוקדם לפני הלימודים, מי מהם מקבל ארוחה חמה ומי לא, מי מקבל חיבוק ונשיקה ומי מגיע ליום הולדתו בלי עוגה כי אימו עסוקה עם פרנסי העיר. זה אחד מהפרקים המצויינים בספר שהעלה דמעות בעיניי. לצידן אנקדוטות משעשעות ופרועות כמו הסיפור על הרצען והבז האדום או הסיפורים על נסיונותיו של משולם להציף את האדמה.
לצד כל אלה, החזרות והמיחזור של הסיפורים והעדר עלילה קוהרנטית המתקדמת בקו ישר מעצבנים גם אם המחזור נעשה מנקודת מבט שונה בכל פעם או בנקודות זמן שונות הן מיותרות ופגמו לי בהנאת הקריאה. יחד עם זאת הספר מומלץ ולו בשל השפה והחוויה.
Another amazing book by Meir Shalev. I gave it four stars rather than five stars only to distinguish it from A Pigion and Boy (also by Shalev), which I felt was just so unique. Blue Mountain contains the story of a rural village in Palestine in the early 1900's, prior to the establishment of Israel. Not only are the personalities and relationships depicted fascinating. One also gets a flavor for the stubborn way in which many of the founders of Israel tried to live in accord with their ideologies, and how those ideologies often backfired to cause significant personal pain. Not an easy book to read, but well worth it.
As I child I clearly recall my deeply Christian parents talking approvingly about how “the desert blossomed” when the Jews resettled Palestine. This specific phrase held special appeal to us, since we were farmers ourselves. I did not know then (and would have been shocked to discover!) that many of those Jewish agrarian pioneers were completely secular and identified themselves as part of a socialist movement.
These secular pioneer settlers, and their experiences in Palestine long before the establishment of the state of Israel, are the subjects of “The Blue Mountain” by Meir Shalev. I came to this book to illuminate a blank area in my historical understanding and because I hoped the book would accomplish this in the form of excellent storytelling. On the whole I enjoyed the book and I do understand this part of Jewish history much better than before. As to the storytelling, I have a few complaints, though they do not dissuade me from recommending the book.
Crucially, I liked and identified with the main characters. My appreciation of them was just occasionally hampered by what I felt to be a needlessly confusing narrative style. A book with so many characters and similar names (Riva/Rivka or Mirkin/Tsirkin, for example) covering multiple generations cries out for the inclusion of a family tree mapping out the main characters, their relationships and the timespan of their lives.
This solution is so obvious that I thought of sketching one myself. In considering this I was immediately stymied by another stylistic feature: a non-chronological narrative format. Shalev tasks the reader’s concentration with frequent, abrupt time frame shifts in his narrative. I suppose this format contributes to the dreamlike quality that pervades his depiction of life in the collective village. For myself, I am not sure the benefits outweigh the cost in lost clarity.
My final complaint concerns the inclusion of elements of outright fantasy. The story is told in a somewhat light, conversational tone that I have come to associate with the works such as those of Sholem Aleichem. I appreciate this tone as characteristic of that mentality which enabled diaspora Judaism to thrive despite a long history of persecution. This lightness in tone works in the novel as an offset to the violence and hatreds that surround, and occasionally develop within, life in the village. Perhaps the author felt that introducing fantasy was vital in maintaining this tone. I found it often distracting.
Despite these complaints, I found that “The Blue Mountain” provided a fascinating view on a unique human experiment, casting valuable light on the extent to which people, even without the heavy hand of religious impulse, can bond through shared hardship and how those bonds weather and fray under the strains of time, the struggle for limited resources, and the realities of human nature. 3.5 Stars.
Something about visiting Israel both attracts and repells me to this land. As authors on both sides have shaped this land, physically and ideologically, my first venture into Meir Shalev, recommended by a well read Steimatzky employee in Tel Aviv, has taken me beyond the usual politics of self interest, and into the hearts and minds of those who labored a baren landscape before the state of Israel. Blue Mountain is a must read for anyone conflicted and fascinated by the complexities of Israel's birth. And Shalev's poetic writing breathes life into its web of emotions which continue to define modern Israel.
I have always been fascinated by Israel and their history but, whatever I have read about Israel has always been written by a non-Jew. Researching about Israeli novelists, I came across Meir Shalev's name. Having never heard of him and guided by the high praises he has received, I searched for one of his books to read. The Blue Mountain was the one I settled on and, I believe it was his first novel. The Blue Mountain is a wacky sort of novel with tons of characters, humor, and deep feelings and emotions. The novel is narrated by Baruck, an orphan raised by his grandfather. Baruck is now a grown man and the story is the story of his village, its people, their plight, their lives. Baruck manages, since his childhood, to spy on people and eave drop in many of their intimate conversations. In general, I can say I liked the book. It is beautifully written in the magical realism tradition of Gabriel Garcia Marquez. The novels is wacky crazy at times but, it manages to convey a story with many shades of emotions. There are a lot of characters in this novel and it is difficult at times to keep them all straight ( I wish it would've had some kind of character list for reference). The novel jumps back and forth in time and remarks from the different characters are mingled with the story leaving to reader to figure out who is saying what. I enjoyed the book but by the end was getting tired of the many side stories and the convoluted way they were told. This book introduced me to a new author, one I plan to visit again. It did not, however, helped me to understand more about Israel and its history. On the contrary, it opened up more questions in my mind. I guess that is good thing
I do have the need to re-read Meir Shalev’s books again and again and, since every single time I am able to discover new aspects in them, they never disappoint me. In “The Blue Mountain” (1988, originally published in Hebrew as "Roman Rusi", English translation by Hillel Halkin, 1991), he describes the experiences of the immigrants who arrived to Palestine with the second Aliyah at the beginning of the 20th century and illustrates with a sensitive voice their lives in a rural village prior to the creation of the State of Israel.
Baruch, who was left by his parents' early death into the custody of two old men -his grandfather and the village's schoolteacher- is the narrator of this tale. It is his account what allows us to get in touch with the remembrances of both pioneers and what reveals as well that the Jews who came from Russia and Eastern Europe had little time for the cultural changes and for the gradual adaptation that easier times usually allow. These pioneers had no time to chew on the pogroms and all what they had left behind in Russia or Ukraine. For them time was there to solve practical things like finding a better way to milk the cows, to drain swamps or pull plantations out of dry land.
This novel is a gorgeous epos about the immigrants from Russia and Ukraine who dreamed from socialism and mocked some of their fellows’ religious fanaticism. It is Shalev’s dramaturgical ability and his always awake irony what make this book a master piece. Respect, love, no sentimentalism but wise sarcasm. It is a book in which one would like to be in because it portrays people who are heroic but ridiculous at once and near, like close relatives. A family tale full of innocence and poetry beyond from the real time and bitter politics.
„Roman rusesc” nu este o carte perfectă, dar mi-a plăcut extrem de mult; parcă a fost scrisă special pentru mine. Romanul cuprinde istoria unei așezări evreiești din valea Jezreel, întemeiată de o mână de imigranți ruși la începutul secolului 20. Povestea se întinde pe trei generații, de la străbunii care au îmblânzit natura Palestinei până la nepoții care continuă munca lor în statul Israel. Portretele unor oameni remarcabili se împletesc cu evenimente inedite, banale sau absurde, care virează adeseori înspre tărâmul mitului și al fanteziei.
Figurile giganților întemeietori și identitatea poporului israelian sunt prezentate de Shalev cu căldură și umor, dar și cu ironie, într-o narațiune extrem de densă și deloc ușor de parcurs. Istoria nu este una liniară, căci timpul este îmbucătățit în fărâme mici, sclipitoare, care sunt amestecate și așezate apoi într-un mozaic fabulos de vocea naratorului Baruch, nepotul unuia dintre părinții întemeietori ai micii așezări agricole. Mai puțin un cronicar și mai mult un păstrător al amintirilor trăite și auzite, Baruch deșartă sacul lui plin cu povești și vedenii, dând glas tuturor vocilor care, de-a lungul timpului, i-au istorisit gândurile și pățaniile lor în Ereț-Israel.
Baruch, rămas orfan după moartea violentă a părinților săi, a fost crescut de bunicul Iaakov Mirkin cu brânză pepsin, colastră, roșii cu sare grunjoasă și nenumărate povești. Baraca lor de lemn era printre ultimele rămase în sat, o rămășiță vie a trecutului în care oamenii locuiau în două rânduri de corturi albe, înconjurate de mlaștină și de țânțari. Bunicul și învățătorul Pines l-au îndopat cu povești extraordinare și cu lecții despre insecte și pomi, iar Baruch a completat istoria așezării cu propriile incursiuni prin gospodăriile vecinilor, trăgând cu urechea la conversațiile acestora și urmărindu-le existența cu o încăpățânare de catâr.
„Roman rusesc” cuprinde o mulțime de personaje - un întreg sat, am putea spune (fapt care uneori îngreunează lectura) -, dar acest aparent neajuns este compensat de portretele memorabile cu care le înzestrează Meir Shalev: primul fiu născut în noul sat, unchiul Avraham, considerat un bun obștesc și urmărit de întregul sat, în așteptarea unor fapte mărețe; unchiul Efraim, frumos ca o cadră, care pășește fără zgomot și îl poartă pe umeri pe taurul Jean Valjean; mama lui Baruch, Ester, o fată curajoasă și veselă care a crescut ca o roșie stropită cu sânge, căci se hrănește numai cu carne; Eliezer Lieberson, care și-a răpit nevasta de la via chibuțului vecin, iar apoi și-a petrecut întreaga viață făcându-i curte; conspirativul Râlov, care își ascunde armele și muniția în groapa de urină a vacilor. Un personaj minunat (deși absent) este Schifris, evreul care a pornit pe jos spre Ereț-Israel, fără a ajunge vreodată; amintirea lui este păstrată vie de poveștile bunicului, iar Baruch își imaginează, iar și iar, sosirea legendarului Schifris, care înaintează lent pe drumul lui spre pământul făgăduit.
Gan Eden. O gradina a Edenului in care primii oameni ai Israelului, "deschizatorii de drumuri", cei cazuti din cer sau ridicati din pamant (oricum, nu nascuti acolo) traiesc cu toate simturile sub pomul cunoasterii. Pe care ei l-au sadit, ei au creat toata gradina. E fabuloasa forta pe care o transmite povestea asta, vitalitatea, fricile, curajul, magia.
"Noi eram facuti altfel decat voi. Rabdarea intregului popor, rabdare de doua mii de ani, a plesnit in trupurile noastre si ne-a involburat sangele".
"Un elev care păcătuise era trimis la Pines acasă. Se apropia încet-încet de gardul viu din arbori-ai-vieții, împingea portița verde, pășea pe aleea pietruită, era udat de mica stropitoare mecanică a ierbii și deschidea șovăind ușa care nu era niciodată încuiată. Pines îi punea o mână binevoitoare pe ceafa umedă, îl conducea pe băiat în mica bucătărie să-l adape cu ceai din esență și să stea de vorbă cu el. Câteodată despre metode de secare a mlaștinilor prin săparea de canale, câteodată despre parabola viei din cartea lui Isaia78, câteodată despre flori hermafrodite și eforturile lor minunate de a evita autopolenizarea. După aceea copilul, cu un biscuit sau o bomboană în mână, se întorcea în clasă, și câteva ore încă, liniștit și mângâiat sufletește, simțea blândețea bătrânului său învățător și dulceața ceaiului băut."
“A Russian Novel” was a masterpiece of describing characters. Each of the characters in the story had a complete story behind him. A full description of appearance and traits and skills and a long list of feelings and wills and loves and hatred. In this story, Shalev, skillfully told the story of a small group of veterans which had immigrated to Israel from Russia during the Second Immigration, which took place from 1904 until 1914. They had first lived under the British regime and had built their villages from scratch – under the swamps they had dried with their bare hands. This group of veterans had children and grandchildren and friends and each and every one of them is described meticulously and beautifully.
I loved this book about a group of idealistic Jews who came to the Promised Land in the early 1900s as par of the Second Aliyah. The writing has been compared to Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s and I was reminded of Michael Chabon (Kavalier & Clay) and his eccentric characters. You got pulled into the characters’ lives and experiences – I found this book really interesting and compelling.
„Kiekvienas žmogus, – rašė Pinesas, – turi savo jautį, kurį gali pakelti. Kiekvienas mūsų yra kūnas, sėkla ir širdies šauksmas, kuris nenurims tol, kol neišleisime jo lauk.”
Epinis pasakojimas, kurio tikrai neišeina, o ir nesinori greitai praryti. Teksto grožis atsiskleidžia neskubant, stabtelint ir man buvo tarsi savotiška meditacinė kelionė į Palestinos kraštą. Romane sluoksnis po sluoksnio atskleidžiamas trijų kartų gyvenimas prie Mėlynojo kalno, anūko Barucho akimis.
Daug vaizdingų aprašymų: žmonių charakterių, augalų, kraštovaizdžio, gyvūnų, netgi kirmėlių. Autoriui išties pavyko sukurti ryškius ir įsimintinus veikėjus: nuo Efraimo su Žanu Valžanu ant pečių, aistringo sodininko senelio Jakovo iki kaimo mokytojo Pineso. Iš pradžių labai maišėsi vardai ir pavardės, tad pasidariau tokią kaip chronologinę lentelę ir buvo daug paprasčiau skaityti.
Barucho senelis su draugais „slapčia perėjo sieną”, atvyko į „Pažadėtąją žemę” ir tapo kaimo pionieriais. Ir nors apimamas gan ilgas istorinis laikotarpis nuo XX a. pradžios, istoriniai įvykiai čia nėra pasakojimo epicentre. Daug svarbiau kartų skirtumai ir žmonių tarpusavio santykiai. Autorius nevengia ironiškai pasijuokti iš žmonių silpnybių ir trūkumų.
Į pasakojimo gijas įtaigiai įsipina daugiasluoksnė praeitis, citatos iš Toros, glaudus žemės ir žmogaus ryšys, bei magiškas realizmas. Rekomenduoju lėtosios ir kokybiškos literatūros mėgėjams.
It seems a lot of people read this book because they have some sort of connection to Israel; wether Israeli or visitors to the country. I belonged to the latter class and spent two years in Israel. Almost any "local" will recommend Meir Shalev (and David Grosmann) as good hebrew literature.
This book didn't let me down. It was very stylishly written. Good prose. The main character is nice albeit, it seems to me, less typical in its historical context. The motifs of the main character (as a proxy of his grandfather's) remain an enigma to me: where comes the hatred from? (I assume not from a romance) And why the taste of revenge? I think Shalev managed to give a good overview of the feeling of the pioneers: excitement followed by frustration and a some disappointment. Also the fading interest in the same ideals by following generations, and the frustration about this fact comes alight in the thoughts of the older pioneers.
For sure an good read from a literary point of view. Probably, although i'm not a permanent resident of Israel and hence lack some background, a good read due to its historical ideas and dissemination of "pioneer's visions" (and the failure to keep these up to these days)
"יחד עם ביעור העשב השוטה, יבוש הביצה ובירוא היער, זרענו גם את הכישלון"
This Israeli classic totally deserves it's worldwide name. It's a beautifully (!) written family saga about the life of the pioneers who came to a land of swamps and dazzling sun to build their new beloved country, sharing one great idea and ready to work hard for it. It all sounds nice, until the story reveals the dark sides of their utopic dream - I'd even say that it's very close to distopia. The incredibly talented Meir Shalev describes the spirit of his young country and it's first settlers with touching tenderness and love, even though his view is far from idealistic: there's also tragedy and pain that the settlers brought upon themselves while being blinded by the light of their dream. My humble opinion - this book would be interesting to everyone who loves high quality literature, even if you're not excited about the history of the Middle East.
This is the first Shalev book I've ever read and I understand why he's so respected. The plot is completely original. It verges on true except where it veers off towards the fantastical, with a lot of humor, pathos and a sincere understanding of his (male) characters and the time period in which they live. Four stars because it is really long and because I found it hard to keep track of the many characters - referred to by first and last names, or sometimes one or the other. One thing that bothered me was the way Shalev sidelined his female characters. Not a single woman was three-dimensional. Although humankind wouldn't exist without women, Shalev made them completely incidental to the story and to the lives of the men around them.
“Bandžiau jį paguosti. Priminiau, kad mūsų kaime neatsirastų nei vieno, kurį visi laikytų visiškai pilno proto. Psichinė sveikata pas mus viso labo yra tik susitarimo reikalas, priimamas atsižvelgiant į tai, kiek žmonių vieną ar kitą asmenį laiko sveiku.” Stebuklinė istorija, pilna tiesiog neįtikėtinų, vienas už kitą spalvingesnių, personažų, užburianti ir įtraukianti į nenutrūkstamą laiko ir gyvenimo tėkmę, kurioje susipina tiek žmonių, tiek gamtos sąmonės. Nors ir pasakojanti apie Antrosios bangos (1904-1914) žydų emigrantų gyvenimą tikrai nesvetingoje ir kartais net labai pavojingoje, visomis prasmėmis, žemėje, istorija tiek turtinga vaizdiniais ir perpildyta emocijomis, kad tiesiog nejučia yra peržengiamos ribos tarp sapnų ir realybės, mito ir tikrovės. Nepaisant sunkumų ir iššūkių, netekčių ir vilčių žlugimo, vidinė tų žmonių, sausinusių pelkes, tiesusių vandentiekį, plynus dykvietės plotus pavertusių derlingais vynuogynais ir gyvūlininkystės ūkiais, dvasios jėga, tikėjimas ir išmintis, gebėjimas išlikti toje žemėje ir (su)gyventi ir yra šios istorijos apie Mėlynojo kalno papėdėje gyvenančiuosius tikrasis grožis. Senojo mokytojo Pineso pastangos auginti ateities kartas kaip želmenis, Rilovo nuolatinis budėjimas kaimo sargyboje, Jakovo Mirkino kerštas kaimui už išvarytą sūnų Efraimą, Žanas Valžanas ir Zaiceris (įdomu, ar ir kiti ilgai galvojo, kad tai žmogus), Mandolina Cirkinas ir jo muzika, Margulis ir jo bitės, Eliezeris Libersonas ir jo meilė savo pasaulio saulei ir mėnuliui Faniai bei daugelis kitų - tai ir yra šios istorijos stebuklas. Mėlynojo kalno sekama stebuklinė istorija. “Senelis su Pinesu maitino mane įvairiausiomis istorijomis, parodė vabzdžių ir medžių pasaulį. Cirkinas man nuolat skambino mandolina ir vertė iš nuostabos išsižioti, kai plikomis rankomis į lentą sukišdavo vinis, nes jo delnų oda buvo neįtikėtinai kieta ir sudiržusi. <...> Libersonas man skaitė knygas, o sykį, bet tik vienintelį, net žaidė su manimi slėpynių. - Visa tai jie darė tavo senelės atminimui, - pasakė Pinesas.”
It was interesting to read this book the month after reading 'East of Eden'--with their common elements of emigrants, pioneers on the land, family epics, biblical themes of brothers and even on a common era--the time before and after WW1. I enjoyed the (very different) writing of both authors and in the end was struck by the the fundamental difference in their point of view---for Steinbeck, man's use of the free will granted by God to make choice in life, and for Shalev, the transient impact of man's will beyond the limits of his life. One ends with blessing and 'Tischel' and the other with names of those who have died left on tombstones in fields of wheat, in children's names and in blue letters of cornflowers. Both books well worth reading and I'd suggest reading them consecutively.
Read it in Russian. The book is about Jews migrated to Palestine in the beginning of last century. Sad and funny at the same time.
The book title in Hebrew and Russian is "Russian Novel". Shalev said that it was translated and published in English at the time of Gorbachev and "perestroika" and either his agent or translator advised him to choose something else for the title otherwise readers would think it's propaganda.
There are some very amusing, interesting and touching scenes in this book. I read about the middle 150 pages to my wife, and then things started to taper off. The book should have been about 100 pages shorter. The characters are hard to keep up with, but what was really hard to keep up with was the chronology. It jumps back and forth in time; you often don't know where you're at and have to check back to see. Still, a delightful book for the most part.
Кніга-спадарожнік па жыцці. Чытаў па троху на працягу доўгага часу, але з жаданнем да яе вярнуцца. Чытаецца без моцнага адрыву ад сваёй уласнай рэчаіснасці, наадварот наводзіць на ўспаміны пра сваё мінулае, сваіх бацькоў, дзядоў і бабуль, на думкі пра сабе ў сталым веку. Кніга пра жыццё ад раджэння да скону.
Deze debuutroman van een van mijn favoriete schrijvers heeft me niet honderd procent overtuigd. Op zich is het een mooie roman over joodse pioniers en hun afstammelingen die een gemeenschap in Israël vormgeven. Een voor een noeste werkers die gevaarlijke moerassen weten droog te leggen op gevaar voor eigen leven, een hard leven leiden en even moeilijke relaties onderhouden. Leerrijk alweer. Maar om deze 500 pagina’s te lezen heb ik twee weken nodig gehad, en dat is niet van mijn gewoonte. Telkens als ik begon te lezen, vielen mijn ogen dicht. Er waren té veel details, té veel verhalen, té veel uitweidingen. Aan wie dit boek nog moet beginnen lezen, geef ik de raad een fiche bij de hand te houden om aan de hand van namen en stopwoorden te noteren wie wie is, en wat die persoon gedaan heeft. Helpt om bij de les te blijven.