מות ליסאנדה

by Yitzhak Orpaz, יצחק אורפז

The Death of Lysanda collects two macabre novellas by one of Israel's greatest poets. In the title piece, we meet Naphtali Noi, a recently divorced proofreader, critic, and "creative" taxidermist, given to hallucinations and soon perhaps to add murder to his hobbies. Ants tells the story of a married couple, Jacob and Rachel, who discover that an army of the titular insects is threatening to destroy their rooftop apartment--but Rachel seems to be on their side rather than her husband's. In fragmented prose halfway between the Old Testament and the playful experiments of Julio Cort�zar, these tales take to pieces the psyches of two men--and a nation--at war with themselves.

Genres: Israel

104 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1970

Reviews

[MJ Nicholls · Rating 4 out of 5]

Bonkers is the best descriptive for these two sixties novellas: reprints of the only translations of this Hebrew writer in existence. The title novella is best (and hilariously) summed up in this review from Eddie Watkins (so requires no work from me—thanks Eddie, and please bring your brilliance back to GR). ‘Ants’ is the second novella: a surreal and blackly comic tale about a house being overrun with ants, and a disturbing marriage involving a partial metamorphosis into a kind of ant-loving mentality (or something). As ever, Dalkey have released a book that defies explanation and is the most insane and brilliant thing you have read since the last Dalkey pub. How do they do it? They have strange powers. The two quotes I put in my status update demand repeating:

“A man walks along and smells flowers, then walks along wallowing in mud and smells flowers, then walks along wallowing in mud and no longer smells flowers, then walks along and is just—wallowing in mud.”

“There are those who ask dreams questions and dreams answer them, they say. Then there are those who the dreams question, and so they answer or try to answer. My dreams—what are they?—floating shadows, an invisible tumult, vanishing smoke that leaves a smoldering in the eyes, a bitter and sometimes icy smoldering on waking. Wisps like tails, slipping through my grasping hands.”

[Eddie Watkins · Rating 3 out of 5]

Will have to reread this short little fiction to determine if I missed something. Since it was featured on A Journey Round My Skull as a lost gem long ago I've been anticipating reading it, but now having read it I feel let down. While it was taut and entertaining it seemed like a rather run-of-the-mill story of the "solitary man has an imaginary love relationship that is intruded upon by a flesh and blood woman who shatters his delicate psychic balance and so he kills her and while preparing to taxidermy her is arrested and sent to jail where he writes this memoir in first and third person which heightens the sense of schizophrenia in the narrative" sort.

[Milodar · Rating 5 out of 5]

Another certified banger on behalf of Cape Editions my beloved <333

[TheAuntie · Rating 3 out of 5]

strano questo libro, non riesco a valutarlo in stelline...

Leah mi disse una volta che un bambino si chiude in un quadrato e ha paura di uscirne. Strilla quando il quadrato si apre. A volte in silenzio, perché è spaventato. Giocattoli come i quadrati, i cubi, la campana, la forma quadrata delle stanze, ecc. Io le dissi "Penso che per agli adulti sia lo steso - un uomo cresce e il quadrato cresce con lui".

A volte ho la sensazione che i confini tra sogno e realtà stiano diventando sempre più labili, e questo mi mette allegria. Già.

Mi sentivo libero e leggero, come uno che ha finalmete capito come stanno le cose.