By Amos Oz
Tragic, comedian, and totally sincere, this bestselling and seriously acclaimed new paintings by means of "one of Israel's so much proficient and prolific authors" (Helen Epstein, The ahead) is right away a relations saga and a paranormal self-portrait of a author who witnessed the beginning of a kingdom and lived via its turbulent history.
It is the tale of a boy growing to be up within the war-torn Jerusalem of the 40's and fifties, in a small residence crowded with books in twelve languages and kinfolk talking approximately as many. the tale of a young person whose lifestyles has been replaced ceaselessly through his mother's suicide while he used to be twelve years previous. the tale of a guy who leaves the restrictions of his relatives and its neighborhood of dreamers, students, and failed businessmen to hitch a kibbutz, swap his identify, marry, have kids. the tale of a author who turns into an energetic player within the political lifetime of his kingdom.
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Additional info for A Tale of Love and Darkness
A lightbulb imprisoned in an iron cage cast a gloomy half-light on this passage even during the daytime. At the front both rooms had just a single window, guarded by metal blinds, squinting to catch a glimpse of the view to the east but seeing only a dusty cypress tree and a low wall of roughly dressed stones. Through a tiny opening high up in their back walls the kitchenette and toilet peered out into a little prison yard surrounded by high walls and paved with concrete, where a pale geranium planted in a rusty olive can was gradually dying for want of a single ray of sunlight.
On the other hand, once you have lifted your foot, do not be in a hurry to put it down again: who can tell what coil of vipers you might step on. For thousands of years we have paid with our blood for our impetuousness, time and time again we have fallen into the hands of our enemies because we put our feet down without looking where we were putting them. That, more or less, was the way people walked in Jerusalem. But Tel Aviv! The whole city was one big grasshopper. The people leaped by, and so did the houses, the streets, the squares, the sea breeze, the sand, the avenues, and even the clouds in the sky.
Cohen's garden in Tel Arza every Friday for a shilling, and on Wednesdays I earned another four piasters by putting empty bottles in crates behind Mr. Auster's grocery, and I also taught Mrs. Finster's son to read a map for two piasters a lesson (but this was on credit and to this day the Finsters have not paid me). Despite all these sources of income, we never stopped economizing. Life in our little apartment resembled life in a submarine, as they showed it in a film I saw once at the Edison Cinema, where the sailors had to close a hatch behind them every time they went from one compartment to another.