"והיה פעם בית לבן וגדול, ואנחנו הלכנו לבית הלבן, ובבית הזה היו הרבה ילדים, ילדים קטנים, קטנ-טנים... ואני לא זוכרת את הילדים האחרים, ואבא שלך בטח לא זוכר אותם...ואנחנו אמרנו תכף ומיד: זה הילד, והצבענו תכף ומיד על הילד הזה, ולא הורדנו את העיניים ממנו עד שבאו והוציאו אותו מהמיטה ונתנו לנו אותו לתוך היד. ולקחנו אותו בידיים ולא לקחנו אף אחד אחר. וישר ידענו שזה אתה..." לפני הרבה שנים אימצו יואל ולאה את אמיל. בינתיים לאה מתה ויואל יצא לגמלאות ואמיל גדל והוא כמעט בן ארבעים. עכשיו יואל חושב: אני את האביב הבא כבר לא אראה; ומחליט לחפש את ההורים הביולוגיים של בנו המאומץ בלי לספר לו על כך. קרוב, ספר הפרוזה הרביעי של דרור בורשטיין, הוא סיפור בפרגמנטים, עצוב ומצחיק, על קרבה ביולוגית ועל קרבה נפשית, על הקשרים הנראים והלא נראים שבין הורים לילדים ועל האפשרות להשיב את הזמן לאחור או לפחות לשחזר אותו או לזכור ממנו משהו.
Dror Burstein (דרור בורשטיין) was born in 1970 in Netanya, Israel, and lives in Tel Aviv. He first became a fully qualified lawyer, then he left the legal field and started studying literature. He received a PhD in Hebrew literature from the Hebrew University of Jerusalem in 2001 and now teaches there as well as at Tel Aviv University. He also edits programs for Israel Radio`s music station and writes literary and art reviews. Burstein has been awarded the Jerusalem Prize for Literature (1997), the Ministry of Science and Culture Prize for Poetry (2002), the Bernstein Prize for his novel, Avner Brenner (2005) and the Prime Minister`s Prize (2006).
Yazarın kalemi ve yazım tekniği şahane. İsmini bilmediğimiz karakterler, karalamalar, flashbackler derken ideal bir tanışma kitabı, oldukça keyifli bir okuma süreci. Yer yer empati yapabileceğiniz bazen daha iyi olabilirmiş diyeceğiniz ama aynı zamanda muhtemelen en iyisi bu diyeceğiniz sayfalarla dolu. Özellikle farklı bir kitap arayışındakilere öneririm.
Read my review on New York Journal of Books. Read that review first. Additional remarks that appeared in a different and now defunct publication begin with the next paragraph.
“Kinship is a central theme in Israeli writer Dror Burstein’s novel Kin, which is published today in Dalya Bilu’s English translation by Dalkey Archive Press. The book portrays the inner life of Yoel, a senior citizen, widower, and adoptive father who decides to find his adult son Emile’s biological parents and reunite him with them.”
Kinship is a central element in Judaism along with the revelation at Sinai, the Torah, and observance of laws derived from the Torah. Performing traditional customs and rituals connects us to earlier generations of Jews. Our identity is in part defined by our genealogy going all the way back to the patriarchs and matriarchs. Indeed so important is this genealogy that conversion to Judaism ritually severs the convert’s previous genealogy, and he or she is ritually referred to as a son or daughter of Abraham and Sarah.
When we play Jewish geography we are not only tracing degrees of separation, but we are also determining whether or not we are related. And if we trace our genealogies back far enough nearly all Jews are in fact related. So central are bloodlines in Judaism that prior to the 20th Century traditional Judaism had no ritual to mark adoptions and the Hebrew language had no word for adoption (the modern Hebrew word is ametz).
Kinship is a central theme in Israeli writer Dror Burstein‘s novel Kin, which is published today inDalya Bilu‘s English translation by Dalkey Archive Press. The book portrays the inner life of Yoel, a senior citizen, widower, and adoptive father who decides to find his adult son Emile’s biological parents and reunite him with them.
In my New York Journal of Books review of Kin I describe it as “sad and beautiful” and “a nonlinear impressionistic series of vignettes, flashbacks, inner monologues and apocalyptic dystopian fantasies/dream sequences.” Making sense of these varied elements is the reader’s job; Mr. Burstein doesn’t spoon feed, but this book is certainly worth the effort.
Emile’s complexion is noticeably darker than that of his adoptive parents. When people see Emile and Yoel together they assume Yoel’s wife and Emile’s mother Leah is Sephardi, though in fact both adoptive parents are Ashkenazi. Americans are used to seeing adopted children who do not resemble their parents. This is less common in Israel.
For the first 50 years of its existence Israel did not allow overseas adoption and domestic adoption was and is segregated by religion. As in America, in Israel there is a chronic shortage of Jewish babies available for adoption resulting in six year waiting lists for prospective adoptive parents. This may explain why when Yoel and Leah’s first choice among the babies in the orphanage turned out to be unavailable they hastily chose Emile; having reached to front of the line they didn’t want to lose the opportunity to adopt by dawdling.
Since 1998 it has been legal for Israeli Jews to adopt foreign gentile children, but they are required to convert the children to Judaism. Israel’s Haredi rabbinic establishment requires parents of adopted foreign children to either be Orthodox or adopt Orthodox practices as a condition for converting the child. This requires secular Israeli Jews who want to adopt to live a lie. This may explain why in Israel, a country of eight million people fewer than a hundred foreign born babies are adopted every year, whereas in America, a country of 300 million people, over 19,000 foreign born babies are adopted every year.
After that digression I would like to close with one more point in my role as a book reviewer. I am beginning to lose patience with fiction authors who withhold psychotherapy from their emotionally troubled characters. Yoel’s state of mind makes for fascinating reading, but shouldn’t he be sharing his disturbing thought processes with a licensed clinician?
Anakronik bir yaklaşım, flashbackler, monologlar, rüyaların gerçekle harmanı, şehrin yokoluşuna dair distopik bölümler, ismini kitap boyunca öğrenemediğimiz [ ] olarak bildiğimiz karakterler...
Teknik ve üslup açısından hoş bir roman Emile, konusu bakımından da ilgi çekici fakat bu konunun daha iyi ele alınabileceği görüşündeyim.Belki çeviri kitap olmasından ötürü bazı şeyleri kaçırmış da olabilirim. Siyahi bir evlat edinmenin toplum açısından kabulü nasıl oldu, ya da tepkiler nasıl geldi? Kitabın hayat damarlarından biri bu olmasına karşın, üzerinde çok durulduğu söylenemez. Biyolojik anne-babanın niçin çocuklarını reddettiği, otuz yedi yaşındaki birinin niçin hala çocuk görüldüğü.. bu ve buna benzer bir kaç noktanın romanda, daha derinlemesine ele alınması gerekirdi. Tüm bu söylediklerime rağmen kamerayı eline alıp yazdıklarını gösteriyor adeta Burstein. Diğer kitaplarının da çevrilmesini umut edelim, İsrail edebiyatını okumak, bize sunulan örneklerden yola çıkarak söylüyorum, gayet güzel deneyim oluyor.
Harika betimlemeler ve Saramago/Marquez tadında bir üslup ile fazlasıyla dikkate değer bir kitap. İsrail ve Filistin arasında duran, tam anlamıyla arada kalmış bir çocuk ve yarı/babası. Enteresan bir roman.
Here's another one I got for free at the book exchange at the Jackalope coffee house in Chicago's Bridgeport neighborhood. Go there!
This simple volume is also crushing to the heart at times and manages to paint three very complex personalities in a very short space. I hover between getting rid of it and holding on, and keep it every time. I want to practice to be able to write between the spaces as Burstein does.
İsrail edebiyatından bir yazarla tanışmış olmak için aldığım bir kitaptı. Konusu çok güzel, sevdim. Ama kitabın içine bir türlü giremedim. Yazarın üslubundan mı çevirinden mi kaynaklı bilemiyorum. Ya da sadece kitap için doğru zaman değildi. İlerleyen süreçte bir kez daha şans vermem daha doğru olacak.