Customer Reviews

Homesick

5 star:		(3)
4 star:		(1)
3 star:		(0)
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1 star:		(1)

 

 

I bought this book as I was looking for a book in English (as I can't read Hebrew) about every day people living in Israel since I've been visiting Israel. I wanted to get more of a feel for the people and their lives. plus I've been feeling homesick for my own country and home. many of the places and things mentioned in the book were very familiar to me since my stay here and the characters seem like friends now. at first I found it hard to work out who was speaking as all the characters say "I" - they are each telling their own story in first person throughout the book. once I got used to this the characters grew on me. I loved the simple details mentioned in the book about everyday life and I have a mental picture about them living their lives now. I'll be keeping an eye out for more books by the author as I really enjoyed this one and recommend it to anyone who would like to read about life in Israel (ie not the media-portrayed view of Israel)

Sensitively written, well crafted, believable characters. Truly a window into Israeli life, but with universal themes of longing, pain, and struggle.

This book allows you to peek in a lively and profound way, into a sample of life in Israel today.

Amos Oz said that "if you are a reader [from another country]..., you are actually invited into other people's living rooms, into their nurseries and studies, into their bedrooms. You are invited into their secret sorrows, into their family joys, into their dreams."

Eshkol Nevo crystallizes the invitation. I couldn't stop reading it.

This novel requires courage to read since the "ideological" freight might be heavy for some readers, my fellow Americans. Originally published in Hebrew, in Israel, in 2004, this novel may be hard to find in the U.S. (The copy I have is a 2008 English translation, Vintage U.K. Random House.) I wanted to read this novel, Homesick, ever since I first heard about it in a review in the London Times Literary Supplement.) The fact that the author is Jewish and native to Israel interested me--and I'd never read a novel set in Israel--but also because there is a Muslim Arab character, Saddiq, a construction worker who is hardly in the novel but his presence is everywhere--which I will explain. The setting is a small village, Mevasseret or "Castel," halfway between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. The geography as a setting plays no role in this novel, and I think the reader will see that the novel is about the psychological landscape and the two or three houses in which the action unfolds.

The energy of the novel circulates around the personal and interpersonal conflicts of two couples living in a partitioned house, so close that they can hear the arguments--and other things--and smell the cooking. One couple, about 30-ish, has been married seven or eight years, Sima and Moshe Zakian; they are renting out a smaller portion of their house to the younger unmarried couple, Noa, a photography student, and Amir, a psychology student. Also crucial are Moshe's parents, living upstairs, the 70-ish Avram and Gina.

In a way, this is Noa's novel, the female photography student who looks for homesickness in everyone's face--including Arab residents.

A third (or fourth) couple--living in a house across an empty lot--plays a key role because their pre-teen son, Yotam, befriends Amir, who has become a kind of surrogate brother because Yotam's older brother, Gidi, was killed in the war in Lebanon. The novel plays out along many tensions between these three houses. Yotam's parents are deeply mourning the lost of their son, Gidi; this topic of war allows the author to explore the cost of military service and his nation's constant fear, as well as the constant mourning which makes the parents neglect their boy, Yotam. Also, Moshe Zakian's brother is "orthodox" Jewish (a fundamentalist) who brings about tension because Sima refuses to send their five-year-old son to an orthodox school. The novel shows that there are obviously different ways of being Jewish.

But, at one point, the key to the novel is literally a key. One of the Arab Muslim construction workers--working on a house across from Sima and Moshe Zakian (and Noa and Amir)--suspects that the Zakian house is the one that he and his Palestinian family owned until 1948 when they were evicted. Saddiq has the key to the front door and the property deed showing that it is their house; the family was, of course, forcibly removed, and they left in a hurry, the mother leaving something valuable during their flight in '48. The reader can imagine that there will be tension if the Arab knocks on their door and wants to go in to find what his mother left; even if the Arab has a good explanation and shows them the key and the property deed, he might be met with suspicion. These scenes are loaded with irony and subtext. It becomes obvious that only the old grandfather upstairs can understand the Arab, and he does that in a moment of "insanity" while he's recovering from an operation.

At first I thought that it must have taken the Jewish author, Eshkol Nevo, a lot of courage to write the novel, but then I realized that writing it was natural for him. Nevo has simply written his life, written what he knows. It's the reader who requires courage. The reader has got to be able to see that there are all kinds of Israeli people and that Arabs and Jews already share the land, that their histories and their lives are intertwined. This novel, Homesick, is the history and sociology behind the nightly news. This novel does what only a novel can do: show us a kind of truth missing from all other media.

To summarize, very character has something personal that each is hiding from others; giving up concealment can be difficult, speaking out can be frightening. It's a big step when people realize they can love each other.

Even after hearing this book reviewed,I did not
like it. There was a constant changing of points
of view (voices) from one character to another
which was extremely disconcerting.