It’s Official
In two hours time, my big sister is to marry her longtime partner, John Christie. Check out this fabulous wedding announcement in Sunday’s New York Times.
Archived entries for Family
Nuclear Sound Affects
During the late 1970s, I can’t remember how many times my siblings and I would hear a song on the radio–most often English-language pop and disco–and try to sing along. We’d mimic the lyrics, switching back and forth between English and Hebrew as we unsuccessfully attempted to master particularly difficult American-sounding turns of phrase. Boney M‘s 1978 mega-hit “Rasputin,” and Earth, Wind and Fire’s 1979 smash “Boogie Wonderland” were particular sources of amusement, as friends and family would struggle to properly enunciate “R” and “W,” sounding, in the case of “Vonderland,” like Israeli caricatures of Bela Lugosi.
To read the rest of my review of Soul Messages From Dimona, click here.
‘Deserteur’
Two weeks ago, France 24 produced a larger television piece on the recent advert attempting to ‘shame’ Israelis who do not do their military service. Based on the recent forum on the Observers site, I discuss my decision, 23 years ago, to not do my military service. Jennifer shot the original interview.
The nicest part about this experience was hearing about it first via my uncle Avi in Tel Aviv, who saw it on France 24 at home, and then telephoned my parents about it, who in turn called me. I didn’t get a chance to see the full piece until last week, when Roi Ben-Yehuda let me know it had been posted online.
Note the use of the word ‘deserter’ in the English broadcast of the interview. In French, the original term, ‘deserteur’ is also used to describe people who choose not to do military service as an act of conscience. It doesn’t consistently translate as ‘to leave one’s post’, though that surplus is most definitely there.
Click here to watch the English version. The French edition is worth a gander, too.
Family Album
My mother encouraged me to appreciate coffee
My father taught me to drink tea
My wife is responsible for the cookies
The Mirror Stage
You know you’re starting to feel old when, in the space of one month, three films about three dead musicians hit the theaters, and you can still remember when their very first records came out. Such was the case when, watching the previews before the new Anton Corbijn biopic about Joy Division frontman Ian Curtis, I saw plugs for new feature films about The Clash’s Joe Strummer and Nirvana’s Kurt Cobain.
Two down, one to go, so far, Control is the winner. Casting Ian Curtis as the unstable, miserable genius that he was, the black and white feature debut by the famous Dutch photographer has a truly literary feel to it, eschewing Curtis’ star quality for an up-close study of a talented young man totally falling apart. Julien Temple‘s homage to Strummer, The Future is Unwritten is Control‘s polar opposite.
A documentary portrait of an equally brilliant middle aged rock star burdened with enormous regrets, Future is best summed up in the highly critical words of my wife, who published her own terrific take on the film last night. Check it out. If you haven’t read the Bionic Farmer blog yet, this is the perfect introduction.
Time Traveler
German was the last thing I expected to hear that morning. But, as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, I could hear my grandmother screaming, "Raus, Nazis, raus." I didn’t know what to think. I imagined that I’d been dreaming, and tried to go back to sleep. But my grandmother wouldn’t stop. She was absolutely terrified. Nervous, I looked at my watch. It was only six AM. Finally, I decided to get out of bed and see what was going on. "Yoel," Safta announced as I reached the bottom of the staircase, "Arafat is hiding in the bushes outside. He’s wearing an SS uniform, and has a couple of German shepherds with him."
While I was only nine at the time, I was old enough to know that there was something terribly wrong. "Safta, doesn’t Arafat live in Beirut?" I remember asking her. "No, mottek, he’s the head of the Gestapo, here in Israel," she replied. I started to tremble. I’d begun reading newspapers, and knew that Arafat was leading the Palestinians next door in Lebanon’s civil war. "Safta, do you think you could call Abba in London and ask him what we should do?" I asked. "No," she said sternly. "We shouldn’t use the phone right now. It would be a dead giveaway. Just go up to your room, lower the shutters, and be quiet."
Sitting behind my closed door, for the next two weeks, the only sound I could hear was that of my eighty- four year old grandmother’s mind blasting apart. Speaking to herself incessantly, in Hebrew, German, and sometimes even Arabic, at varying volumes, she’d recount imaginary reports she claimed to have heard on army radio about how the Gestapo had finally returned to Palestine (not Israel) from Lebanon, with the sole purpose of kidnapping Jewish children. Unable to distinguish between the mandate period and independence, it was the first time I’d ever heard the Palestinians described as though they were Nazis.
Numerology
This week, we celebrated our fourth anniversary. Not pictured: Jennifer stomping on the glass first.
A Different Kind of Closet
In Walk on Water’s closing scene, we find Eyal walking up to a crib to care for a crying baby, in a house, which, as the camera traces his movements, is one he now shares on a kibbutz with Pia, his new German wife. Axel, however, is never very far away. Sitting down at his laptop with a cup of hot tea after pacifying his newborn child, blanket draped over his shoulders, a domesticated Eyal composes an email to Axel, in which he tells his brother-in-law of a fantasy he had about the two of them defying gravity by walking together across the Sea of Galilee.
Obviously, whatever feelings Eyal held for Axel have not only not gone away, but, more significantly have become a subject of acknowledgement, perhaps even dialogue, between the two men. As welcome as the remarkable changes the former Mossad agent has made to his life appear to certainly be, he is still clearly closeted. Settling down with the blonde haired and blue-eyed granddaughter of a Nazi on a kibbutz may represent a dramatic step forward. Nevertheless, it is Eyal’s unrequited desire for Pia’s brother that represents a yearning for something even greater.
Ideologically speaking, Walk on Water is anything but simple. Could Eyal’s inability to fully come out be a sexual metaphor for a future peace between Palestinians and Israelis that’s correspondingly incomplete? A two state as opposed to a one state solution, where Jews may have made their peace with Europe but not, quite fully, with the Palestinians? Fox is appropriately unclear, as his message should be. Nevertheless, sexual liberation, of the kind that Walk on Water embraces, has profound political corollaries that lie far beyond the liberation of desire.
-From IvU, Chapter 7
Revolutionary Posturing
Every time we pass by the Alexander Rodchenko reproduction in our hallway (to Jennifer‘s left), it makes us want to dye our hair bright red and hold our heads up high.