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gaybf's review against another edition
5.0
quotes
- The dog was still barking when he returned to the camp. He headed straight for the second hut, and as he drew closer it barked even louder. He asked the soldier on guard if everything was all right, and the guard answered yes. Suddenly, the door opened and the girl stepped out, crying and babbling incomprehensible fragments that intertwined with the dog's ceaseless barking.
And in that moment after dusk, before complete darkness fell, as her mouth released a language different to theirs, the girl became a stranger again, despite how closely she resembled all the soldiers in camp.
To the right of the hut, the guard stood motionless and hung his head, avoiding the gaze of his superior, who indifferently shook his head. - (Zionist mindset..) "We cannot stand to see vast areas of land, capable of absorbing thousands of our people in exile, remain neglected; we cannot stand to see our people unable to return to our homeland. This place, which now seems barren, with nothing aside from infiltrators, a few Bedouins, and camels, is where our forefathers passed thousands of years ago. And if the Arabs act according to their sterile nationalist sentiments and reject the idea of us settling here, if they continue to resist us, preferring that the area remain barren, then we will act as an army. No one has more right to this area than us, after they neglected it and left it abandoned for so long, after they let it be seized by the Bedouins and their animals. It is our duty to prevent them from being here and to expel them for good. After all, Bedouins only uproot, they do not plant things, and their livestock devour every bit of vegetation that lies before them, reducing, day by day, the very few green areas that do exist. We, however, will do everything in our power to give these vast stretches the chance to bloom and become habitable, instead of leaving them as they are now, desolate and empty of people."
- There are some people who navigate borders masterfully, who never trespass, but these people are few and I'm not one of them. As soon as I see a border, I either race toward it and leap over, or cross it stealthily, with a step.
- It's something else, something related more to that inability of mine to identify borders between things, and evaluate situations rationally and logically, which in many cases leads me to see the fly shit on a painting and not the painting itself, as the saying goes. And it is possible, at first glance, to mock this tendency, which could compel someone, after the building next to their office at their new job is bombed, to be more concerned about the dust that was created by the bombing and that landed on their desk than about the killing of the three young men who had barricaded themselves inside, for instance. But despite this, there are some who consider this way of seeing, which is to say, focusing intently on the most minor details, like dust on the desk or fly shit on a painting, as the only way to arrive at the truth and definitive proof of existence.
(!!!!!!!!!!!!!) - I ask if he would share with me the documents in his possession which relate to the incident. He replies that everything he has is there in the article. I add that, even so, I would like to look at them myself, and he says that if that's what I'd like, I can go and look for them myself. Where? I ask him. In museums and archives of the Israeli military and Zionist movements from the period, and those specializing in the area where the incident occurred. And where are they? He replies, in a tone betraying that his patience has nearly expired, that they're in Tel Aviv and in the northwest Negev. Then I ask him if, as a Palestinian, I can enter these museums and archives? And he responds, before putting down the receiver, that he doesn't see what would prevent me. And I don't see what would prevent me either, except for my identity card.
- I keep glancing at the Israeli map unfurled across the seat next to me, fearing that I may get lost in the folds of a scene which fills me with a great feeling of alienation, seeing all the changes that have befallen it. It's been a long time since I've passed through here, and wherever I look, all the changes constantly reassert the absence of anything Palestinian: the names of cities and villages on road signs, billboards written in Hebrew, new buildings, even vast fields abutting the horizon on my left and right. After a disappearance, that's when the fly returns to hover over the painting.
- All of a sudden, I glimpse a dark black mass walking across the grass, heading toward me, and then it stops in front of the hammock. It's a dog. Immediately its presence drives fear into me. I repeatedly try to expel the dog, but it stands there motionless, while my fear intensifies, compelling me, in the end, to get off the hammock and return to the hut. Before I go inside, I look back at the dog. But there is no sign of it. It has vanished completely.
- I head for the site of the crime, because I don't know where else to go.
- I steal glances at her as I drive, at part of her face, which is lined with sharp wrinkles, then at her hands, which she lets rest in her lap, on the fabric of her black dress, and they seem stronger than any hands I've seen in my life. They are traced with blue veins that recall the lines on the maps I tossed into the backseat when I stopped the car to take her with me. She is probably in her seventies. The girl would have been around the same age now, most likely, if she hadn't been killed. Maybe this old woman has heard about the incident, since incidents like that would have reached the ears of everyone living in the Naqab, terrorizing them all, and no one who heard about it would be able to forget. I could start by asking her about the area, and how long she has lived here, then gradually transition to asking about the incident, and if she knows anything about it. But the words do not emerge from my mouth. The silence between us stretches on, as vast as nature's silence expanding around us, and tightens its grip, until the old woman suddenly asks me to stop, and so I do, and she gets out. But before she does, she looks directly into my eyes.
marvelruinedmyspirit's review against another edition
4.0
This was the most stress-inducing story I've read, and for good reasons. The prose was beautiful. I wish it had ended another way.
fancyhajer's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
informative
reflective
sad
tense
5.0
celynnamarie's review
dark
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.0
amandarosetea's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
sad
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
sidharthvardhan's review against another edition
4.0
It's actually two seperate stories conjoined by two things - a minor detail and the obsession of the narrator of the second part with events of the first. The repeation of the routine of the protagonist in the first part, the trouble narrator faces when dealing with borders (in a police state where everything is border-ed) in second part and the haunting role played by a dog in both parts are some of the elements that details the oppresuve atmosphere in which both the oppressor and opressed suffer.