by Sayed Kashua (trans. Mitch Ginsburg), 2012
For a view into the minds of two Palestinian Israelis, who could be stand-ins for an upper and lower class of Palestinians, this is a revealing story. Initially, it seems to be a mix of social satire in the case of the affluent lawyer who remains unnamed throughout, and personal angst in the case of the young social worker whose Arab name is close enough to a Jewish name that he sometimes slips into the unexpected luck of mistaken identity.
It becomes clear early on that the whole story is one of identity – mistaken, appropriated, constructed, rejected identities within Arab and Jewish Israeli society, where it seems identity determines not only one’s social standing but much of one’s self and emotional health.
The lawyer is a bit of a caricature – he thinks he has to struggle constantly to maintain a position at the top among the Palestinian lawyers, although why he has to be at the top is not evident. But it is his identity as a bright, self-made affluent Israeli from the villages, and he fears losing his status to the young lawyers coming behind him. He is so centred on Europeanized Israeli culture that it is a shock, and not entirely convincing, when he suddenly turns into the stereotype of a wife-abusing traditional tribal misogynist who sees wife’s virtue as key to his identity and his social standing. His obsession perhaps underlies how the tribal culture remains close to the surface of some Israeli Arabs, and it threatens to destroy the very status he wants so much.
The social worker, Amir Lahab, I found a much more sympathetic character. His back-story, although not detailed, shows true pathos, someone who is rejected in his own culture because of his father’s actions, and who, as a result, rejects that culture, including his mother who wants him to become part of the village. With no culture, he has no future, or at least does not know what it could be. So he takes a dead-end job, which turns out to offer him the miracle of a new identity that fits him well. Significantly, in his new identity he finds success taking realistic photographic character portraits of Arab Israelis in the old town of Jerusalem.
The contrivance that brings the lawyer together with Amir may be improbable, but it sets a suspenseful edge to the stories, and offers the contrast of their two positions: one clinging to a newly created identity while the old identity pulls him back, while the other rejects the old identity and slips into a new one totally at odds with his old identity.
The only problem I have with the book is that the happiest outcome seems to be with the Arab Israeli who turns into a Jewish Israeli. This seems to suggest a message that I hope Sayed Kashua did not intend, that Arab Israelis might find happiness only when they abandon their old (tribal) culture and fully integrate into the new culture, secular but Jewish. Perhaps Kashua intended to imply that Israeli Arabs need to overcome their tribal traditions to fit into a modern culture, but it seems to imply that there is nothing to be valued in the traditional Arab culture. In fact, Kashua shows nothing positive in Palestinian culture – as it appears in the book, it is all tribal, misogynistic, narrow and without ambition. Perhaps Kashua does intend to imply that, and certainly those factors are worthy of criticism, but it does seem to me (an outsider who really knows nothing of Palestinian or Israeli culture) that that must be overstating the situation. I think there must be something between tribalism and abandonment, and not the self-satisfied self-deception of the caricatured lawyer.
Nevertheless, I liked reading this book. It presents a convincing picture of Israeli Arab life in Jerusalem that I haven’t seen before, it’s engaging and the characters are interesting.
It becomes clear early on that the whole story is one of identity – mistaken, appropriated, constructed, rejected identities within Arab and Jewish Israeli society, where it seems identity determines not only one’s social standing but much of one’s self and emotional health.
The lawyer is a bit of a caricature – he thinks he has to struggle constantly to maintain a position at the top among the Palestinian lawyers, although why he has to be at the top is not evident. But it is his identity as a bright, self-made affluent Israeli from the villages, and he fears losing his status to the young lawyers coming behind him. He is so centred on Europeanized Israeli culture that it is a shock, and not entirely convincing, when he suddenly turns into the stereotype of a wife-abusing traditional tribal misogynist who sees wife’s virtue as key to his identity and his social standing. His obsession perhaps underlies how the tribal culture remains close to the surface of some Israeli Arabs, and it threatens to destroy the very status he wants so much.
The social worker, Amir Lahab, I found a much more sympathetic character. His back-story, although not detailed, shows true pathos, someone who is rejected in his own culture because of his father’s actions, and who, as a result, rejects that culture, including his mother who wants him to become part of the village. With no culture, he has no future, or at least does not know what it could be. So he takes a dead-end job, which turns out to offer him the miracle of a new identity that fits him well. Significantly, in his new identity he finds success taking realistic photographic character portraits of Arab Israelis in the old town of Jerusalem.
The contrivance that brings the lawyer together with Amir may be improbable, but it sets a suspenseful edge to the stories, and offers the contrast of their two positions: one clinging to a newly created identity while the old identity pulls him back, while the other rejects the old identity and slips into a new one totally at odds with his old identity.
The only problem I have with the book is that the happiest outcome seems to be with the Arab Israeli who turns into a Jewish Israeli. This seems to suggest a message that I hope Sayed Kashua did not intend, that Arab Israelis might find happiness only when they abandon their old (tribal) culture and fully integrate into the new culture, secular but Jewish. Perhaps Kashua intended to imply that Israeli Arabs need to overcome their tribal traditions to fit into a modern culture, but it seems to imply that there is nothing to be valued in the traditional Arab culture. In fact, Kashua shows nothing positive in Palestinian culture – as it appears in the book, it is all tribal, misogynistic, narrow and without ambition. Perhaps Kashua does intend to imply that, and certainly those factors are worthy of criticism, but it does seem to me (an outsider who really knows nothing of Palestinian or Israeli culture) that that must be overstating the situation. I think there must be something between tribalism and abandonment, and not the self-satisfied self-deception of the caricatured lawyer.
Nevertheless, I liked reading this book. It presents a convincing picture of Israeli Arab life in Jerusalem that I haven’t seen before, it’s engaging and the characters are interesting.
