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The Seven Good Years
A brilliant, life-affirming, and hilarious memoir from a master storyteller.
The seven years between the birth of Etgar Keret’s son and the death of his father were good years, though still full of reasons to worry. Lev is born in the midst of a terrorist attack. Etgar’s father gets cancer. The threat of constant war looms over their home and permeates daily life.
What emerges from this dark reality is a series of sublimely absurd ruminations on everything from Etgar’s three-year-old son’s impending military service to the terrorist mind-set behind Angry Birds. There’s Lev’s insistence that he is a cat, releasing him from any human responsibilities or rules. Etgar’s siblings, both very different people who have chosen radically divergent paths in life, come together after his father’s shivah to experience the grief and love that tie a family together forever. This wise, witty memoir—Etgar’s first non-fiction book, and told in his inimitable style—is full of wonder and life and love, poignant insights, and irrepressible humor.
The seven years between the birth of Etgar Keret’s son and the death of his father were good years, though still full of reasons to worry. Lev is born in the midst of a terrorist attack. Etgar’s father gets cancer. The threat of constant war looms over their home and permeates daily life.
What emerges from this dark reality is a series of sublimely absurd ruminations on everything from Etgar’s three-year-old son’s impending military service to the terrorist mind-set behind Angry Birds. There’s Lev’s insistence that he is a cat, releasing him from any human responsibilities or rules. Etgar’s siblings, both very different people who have chosen radically divergent paths in life, come together after his father’s shivah to experience the grief and love that tie a family together forever. This wise, witty memoir—Etgar’s first non-fiction book, and told in his inimitable style—is full of wonder and life and love, poignant insights, and irrepressible humor.
173 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2013
406 people are currently reading
11426 people want to read
About the author
Etgar Keret
136 books2,425 followersBorn in Ramat Gan in 1967, Etgar Keret is a leading voice in Israeli literature and film. His books have been published in over four dozen languages and his writing has appeared in The New York Times, Le Monde and The New Yorker, among others. His awards include the Cannes Film Festival's "Caméra d'Or" (2007), the Charles Bronfman Prize (2016) and the prestigious Sapir Prize (2018). Over a hundred short films and several feature films have been based on his stories. Keret teaches creative writing at Ben-Gurion University of the Negev. Since 2021, he has been publishing the weekly newsletter "Alphabet Soup" on Substack.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,143 reviews
March 8, 2016
I read most of Seven Good Years on a short flight today. When I sat down, my nosy seat mate eyeballed what I was reading, and started telling me how much she loved Etgar Keret, had recently seen him speak at a book festival, liked his book of stories but liked this short book of memoir essays more, she finds him so funny, he makes her laugh out loud, and did she mention she saw him at a book festival and how lovely he was... And I stonily -- but politely, I swear -- stayed quiet because I just wanted to keep reading, because, yup, I too was enjoying Keret immensely. Seven goods years is the third book I read recently that takes place in contemporary Israel. (The other two are The Best Place on Earth: Stories and Native: Dispatches from an Israeli-Palestinian Life). Seven Good Years is a great addition. There must be something about living in a place so fraught with complex history, ever present potential violence, and extreme religious and political tensions that generates a dark but so profoundly human sense of humour. Keret's book consists of mini pieces that span the first seven years of his son's life. In reality, the stories touch very little on his son -- although when they do they make clear that he is a force to be reckoned with -- and deal with Keret's family, family history, life as a writer and life in contemporary Israel. He is indeed funny and self deprecating, but there is an undercurrent of love and humanity that are very moving. I'm definitely going to look for his short stories. And next time I run into someone on a plane reading this book, I'll smile knowingly to myself but let the happy reader read in peace. Thank you to my mother for leaving me her copy when visiting a few months ago.
February 11, 2016
The Seven Good Years
Etgar Keret-is an Israeli author, essayist and filmmaker
Although a few of my GR friends posted great reviews on this book I am not completely sure what moved me to download Etgar Keret's fantastic memoir but I am so glad I did.
A Google search of his name informed me that, as a long time collaborator of the very popular American public radio show This American Life, I had actually listened to some of his stories. I also learned that Keret, who lives in Tel Aviv with his wife and son, is a respected fiction writer and filmmaker. His wife Shira Geffen, is also a well known Israeli actress and film director.
When I was growing up I remember my father, a retired Methodist minister, telling me stories of both the 1948 Israel-Arab War and the 1967 Six Day War and the miraculous events that occurred to allow for the young state of Israel to be established and later on to survive.
So when I read about it, sometimes is difficult for me to compartmentalized these two concepts: Israel the modern prosperous state and Israel the Biblical one, the one from the Old Testament with its stories depicting the Jewish as God's chosen people.
Keret is not a religious man, he is in fact a committed atheist, but one can't escape the symbolism of choosing a seven (7) year time-frame on this memoir, a number that carries a special meaning in the Jewish faith.
Like Keret, I have also drifted away from religion, but my interest in learning about Israel and its people has stayed with me.
I've always been particularly curious about modern life there. How is like living your life under the perpetual threat of violence and in constant fear of losing your very existence?
In the United States, arguably Israel’s most loyal and important ally in the world, Israel and the Jewish people are mostly discussed by politicians and the media at large, within a historical context -with a firm emphasis on the Holocaust - or in Geo-political terms, underscoring it's role in the Middle East and its hostilities with the Palestinian people.
But very rarely does the US media chooses to show the day to day lives of regular people there.
There's also a tendency to portray Israelis as if they were a monolithic political bloc, which of course it's completely absurd.
Many Israelis, Keret among them, reject their country's most conservatives positions and wish and advocate for a peace agreement to end the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. And although these essays are not heavy on politics, there's no doubt where Keret's ideology lies.
Still, being an Israeli in the 21st century present serious moral dilemmas, on the one hand Keret, a son of Holocaust survivors lives in a country surrounded by enemies some of whom have not qualms in openly expressing their desire to annihilate the Jewish people.
On the other, the Israeli government is facing more and more worldwide criticism for what many consider their inhumane treatment of the Palestinian people.
Although formally marketed as a memoir, it'd probably better to describe The Seven Good Years as a collection of personal essays, the bookend events that framed it are the birth of Keret's son Lev - which happens in the midst of a terrorist attack in Tel Aviv - and the death of his aging father.
The Seven Good Years- Australian Cover
Keret does plenty of travelling and there are quite a few chapters dedicated to his experiences outside his homeland.
In the chapter called "Swede Dreams", he is trying to explain to some Swedish colleagues why Yom Kippur, the day of atonement, is such a special holiday for the Jewish people.
The Swedish he recounts, "listened and were fascinated by the idea of a holiday in which no motorized vehicles drive through the cities, when people walk around without their wallets and all the stores are closed...". Fascinating indeed!
But by far my favorite stories are the ones where he is depicting life in Tel Aviv. There is a hilarious chapter describing his attempt at practicing Yoga, unable to do so he ends up joining a Pilates class for pregnant women.
In the chapter "Bombs Away", Keret comically uses hearsay of a potential nuclear attack by Iran as an excuse to try getting out of house chores. He rationalizes to his wife, was is the point of fixing and cleaning things if in a few months the house in question might not even exist?
In "Throwdown at the Playground", Keret and his wife have an argument about whether their 3-year old boy will serve in the Israeli army - she is against it, but he feels guilty and thinks that it would not be fair to let other people's kids carry the burden of defending the country. They tried to work a compromise but in the end can only agree on "spend the next fifteen years working towards family and regional peace".
"Idle Worship" about his relationship with his brother, a political activist who as a soldier of the Israel Defense Forces (IDF), was found guilty of "behavior unbecoming to an IDF soldier” during the Lebanon war, was particularly moving.
When the family is caught out on a car ride while an air raid siren alarm goes off, they are forced to pull out of the road and lie on the ground.
To convince his young son to follow the instructions, they played a game called "Pastrami sandwich", he and wife keep little Lev between the two of them in order to protect him. “Mommy and I are slices of bread, he tells his young son, and you’re a slice of pastrami, and we have to make a pastrami sandwich as fast as we can”. It's at once a sweet and a heartbreaking story.
Finding humor and injecting it into his writing seems to be Keret's way of dealing with the harsh realities Israelis live under.
No matter how well a book is translated, there is a cultural and historical context that is simply impossible to transfer from one language to another.
Keret, who writes in Hebrew, has said that he believes a lot of his writing is lost in translation.
In a 2012 interview with The Paris Review, he told the interviewer:
Translation challenges and all, I found The Seven Good Years to be a wonderful read. And as a reader with a Gentile background, I appreciate the author giving us a little window into modern-day life in Israel.
Keret's writing is mesmerizing and never ceases to surprise you. I look forward to reading more of his books.
Etgar Keret-is an Israeli author, essayist and filmmaker
Although a few of my GR friends posted great reviews on this book I am not completely sure what moved me to download Etgar Keret's fantastic memoir but I am so glad I did.
A Google search of his name informed me that, as a long time collaborator of the very popular American public radio show This American Life, I had actually listened to some of his stories. I also learned that Keret, who lives in Tel Aviv with his wife and son, is a respected fiction writer and filmmaker. His wife Shira Geffen, is also a well known Israeli actress and film director.
When I was growing up I remember my father, a retired Methodist minister, telling me stories of both the 1948 Israel-Arab War and the 1967 Six Day War and the miraculous events that occurred to allow for the young state of Israel to be established and later on to survive.
So when I read about it, sometimes is difficult for me to compartmentalized these two concepts: Israel the modern prosperous state and Israel the Biblical one, the one from the Old Testament with its stories depicting the Jewish as God's chosen people.
Keret is not a religious man, he is in fact a committed atheist, but one can't escape the symbolism of choosing a seven (7) year time-frame on this memoir, a number that carries a special meaning in the Jewish faith.
Like Keret, I have also drifted away from religion, but my interest in learning about Israel and its people has stayed with me.
I've always been particularly curious about modern life there. How is like living your life under the perpetual threat of violence and in constant fear of losing your very existence?
In the United States, arguably Israel’s most loyal and important ally in the world, Israel and the Jewish people are mostly discussed by politicians and the media at large, within a historical context -with a firm emphasis on the Holocaust - or in Geo-political terms, underscoring it's role in the Middle East and its hostilities with the Palestinian people.
But very rarely does the US media chooses to show the day to day lives of regular people there.
There's also a tendency to portray Israelis as if they were a monolithic political bloc, which of course it's completely absurd.
Many Israelis, Keret among them, reject their country's most conservatives positions and wish and advocate for a peace agreement to end the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. And although these essays are not heavy on politics, there's no doubt where Keret's ideology lies.
Still, being an Israeli in the 21st century present serious moral dilemmas, on the one hand Keret, a son of Holocaust survivors lives in a country surrounded by enemies some of whom have not qualms in openly expressing their desire to annihilate the Jewish people.
On the other, the Israeli government is facing more and more worldwide criticism for what many consider their inhumane treatment of the Palestinian people.
Although formally marketed as a memoir, it'd probably better to describe The Seven Good Years as a collection of personal essays, the bookend events that framed it are the birth of Keret's son Lev - which happens in the midst of a terrorist attack in Tel Aviv - and the death of his aging father.
The Seven Good Years- Australian Cover
Keret does plenty of travelling and there are quite a few chapters dedicated to his experiences outside his homeland.
In the chapter called "Swede Dreams", he is trying to explain to some Swedish colleagues why Yom Kippur, the day of atonement, is such a special holiday for the Jewish people.
The Swedish he recounts, "listened and were fascinated by the idea of a holiday in which no motorized vehicles drive through the cities, when people walk around without their wallets and all the stores are closed...". Fascinating indeed!
But by far my favorite stories are the ones where he is depicting life in Tel Aviv. There is a hilarious chapter describing his attempt at practicing Yoga, unable to do so he ends up joining a Pilates class for pregnant women.
In the chapter "Bombs Away", Keret comically uses hearsay of a potential nuclear attack by Iran as an excuse to try getting out of house chores. He rationalizes to his wife, was is the point of fixing and cleaning things if in a few months the house in question might not even exist?
Empty roads in Tel Aviv in observance of Yom Kippur
In "Throwdown at the Playground", Keret and his wife have an argument about whether their 3-year old boy will serve in the Israeli army - she is against it, but he feels guilty and thinks that it would not be fair to let other people's kids carry the burden of defending the country. They tried to work a compromise but in the end can only agree on "spend the next fifteen years working towards family and regional peace".
"Idle Worship" about his relationship with his brother, a political activist who as a soldier of the Israel Defense Forces (IDF), was found guilty of "behavior unbecoming to an IDF soldier” during the Lebanon war, was particularly moving.
When the family is caught out on a car ride while an air raid siren alarm goes off, they are forced to pull out of the road and lie on the ground.
To convince his young son to follow the instructions, they played a game called "Pastrami sandwich", he and wife keep little Lev between the two of them in order to protect him. “Mommy and I are slices of bread, he tells his young son, and you’re a slice of pastrami, and we have to make a pastrami sandwich as fast as we can”. It's at once a sweet and a heartbreaking story.
Finding humor and injecting it into his writing seems to be Keret's way of dealing with the harsh realities Israelis live under.
No matter how well a book is translated, there is a cultural and historical context that is simply impossible to transfer from one language to another.
Keret, who writes in Hebrew, has said that he believes a lot of his writing is lost in translation.
In a 2012 interview with The Paris Review, he told the interviewer:
“ The Hebrew slang in which I write represents a unique language, one that existed exclusively as a written language for two thousand years only to find itself “defrosted” at an arbitrary historical point. This created a spoken language that had preserved its ancient biblical roots on the one end but that was also very open to invented and imported words out of necessity—there were two thousand years worth of words that didn’t exist in the language. This tension between traditional language and a very chaotic and anarchistic one creates a spoken language that is bursting with unique energy and that allows you to switch registers mid-sentence. All of these linguistic aspects can’t pass translation. I have been lucky enough to work with probably the best translators around, and what we do most of the time is cry together and share comforting hugs."
Translation challenges and all, I found The Seven Good Years to be a wonderful read. And as a reader with a Gentile background, I appreciate the author giving us a little window into modern-day life in Israel.
Keret's writing is mesmerizing and never ceases to surprise you. I look forward to reading more of his books.
March 6, 2017
Etgar Keret (n. 1967) é um dos escritores israelitas contemporâneos mais divulgados e ”Sete Anos Bons” é um livro que agrupa um conjunto de “pequenas” histórias, curtos relatos pessoais, sobre o dia-a-dia ou sobre acontecimentos e factos que destacam experiências vividas maioritariamente em Israel, mas também, noutros países, na actualidade e no passado, e que contribuem de uma forma emblemática e paradigmática para conhecermos melhor e mais profundamente o escritor, o pai, o filho, o marido, o professor, o activista, e, sobretudo, a influência dos seus pais e da sua mulher, Shira Geffen, ….
”Sete Anos Bons” inicia-se com um relato sobre o nascimento do filho de Etgar Keret, Lev, num hospital onde começam a chegar inúmeros feridos vítimas de mais um atentado terrorista: ”E é provável que o próprio bebé sinta que esta história de nascer já não seja tão urgente.” (Pág. 11); mas há questões que permanecem sem respostas: ”Os atentados são sempre iguais. Que espécie de coisa original se pode dizer acerca de uma explosão e da morte sem sentido?” (Pág. 12).
As “histórias” ou os “contos” sobre inúmeras temáticas apresentam um registo e uma escrita de excelente qualidade, verdadeiramente acessível e inteligível, simultaneamente, espontânea e sincera, com um humor inigualável; mas também revelam apenas uma visão sobre uma das problemáticas mais complexas - política, geográfica, histórica e social - numa das áreas mais conturbadas do Médio Oriente; a eterna questão entre Israel e a Palestina, e outros estados vizinhos, entre uma população israelita e os grupos extremistas/fundamentalistas do Hamas e do Hezbollah.
Etgar Keret revela pragmatismo e sensatez, demonstra um profundo conhecimento e análise sobre as mudanças e as transformações – por vezes, abruptas e inexplicáveis – que ocorrem e que continuarão a ocorrer nas famílias israelitas, particularmente, a sua; sempre haverá nascer e sempre haverá morrer.
O título ”Sete Anos Bons” é profundamente enganador, efectivamente, há “episódios” e “relatos” bons, alegres e divertidos, mas, há inúmeros “registos” dramáticos e trágicos, aliás, como a vida verdadeiramente é… daí que a obra deveria ser apenas "Sete Anos”.
Em trinta e seis “crónicas” destaco: ”Era uma vez na Sicília”, ”Discórdia no parque infantil”, ”Idolatria”, ”Passarinhos e Passarões”, ”Um pecador como outro qualquer”, um excelente análise sobre o ser escritor e ”Agridoce”, onde se revela como um arquitecto polaco, Jakub Szczesny, construiu em Varsóvia, Polónia, a terra onde a mãe de Etgar Keret nasceu, a Casa Keret que é a casa mais estreita do mundo, com apenas 1,20 m de largura.
Casa Keret, Varsóvia, Polónia
Ano 2
"(In)sinceramente seu"
"Todos os anos, no início do mês de junho, os nossos pais levavam-nos, à minha irmã, ao meu irmão e a mim, à praça central de Ramat Gan, onde estavam instaladas dezenas de mesas cobertas de livros. Cada um de nós escolhia cinco. Às vezes o autor de um desses livros estava numa das mesas e escrevia uma dedicatória. A minha irmã gostava muito disso. Pessoalmente eu achava aquilo um bocado irritante. Lá por alguém ter escrito um livro, isso não lhe dá o direito de escrevinhar no meu exemplar pessoal - especialmente se a sua letra for feia, como a de um médico, e ele insistir em usar palavras difíceis que temos que procurar no dicionário, para descobrir que afinal o que ele queria dizer era "espero que goste"." (Pág. 30)
August 12, 2016
Обичам въображението на Етгар Керет, но още повече обичам факта, че има сили, смелост и въодушевление да гледа на реалността с такава бодрост. В едно интервю той ми каза: "Длъжен съм да бъда оптимист", а веднъж, като си представяше поредната книга в България - "Хуморът е оръжието на слабите." Всички сме слаби, всички сме длъжни да бъдем оптимисти, затова тази книга, първата с неща от личния живот на автора си, ми е толкова лична и на мен, нищо че тук сирените не вият за въздушен обстрел, никой не ме мрази защото така и роднините ми не са избити в концентрационни лагери.
August 10, 2018
I've truly missed the experience that an engaging Nonfiction book evokes, so The Seven Good Years arrived in my hands at the right time. This wise, witty memoir—Etgar’s first non-fiction book, and told in his inimitable style—is full of wonder and life and love, poignant insights, and irrepressible humor.
I've read Keret's short story collections (Suddenly, a Knock on the Door & The Bus Driver Who Wanted to Be God & Other Stories) in the past and enjoyed the experience immensely. With the news of a brand new collection dropping in Hebrew and eager to get my hands on it, I decided to check this slim book out in the meantime.
Which is why I was glad to find that The Seven Good Years reads familiar like one of his short stories. Each bite-sized chapter dedicatedly captures knick-knack themes and ideas on everything from Etgar’s three-year-old son’s impending military service to the terrorist mindset behind Angry Birds. There’s Lev’s insistence that he is a cat, releasing him from any human responsibilities or rules. Etgar’s siblings, all very different people who have chosen radically divergent paths in life, come together after his father’s shivah to experience the grief and love that tie a family together forever.
In short, I inhaled the book. It's funny how I really tried to take my time with it, hoping to save it for the weekend, but I found that the more I read, the quicker I began zooming through the pages. Every time I put it aside, I’m convinced I remember the book to be better than it actually is, but then I start reading again and slip so easily into his writing from chapter to chapter.
It's this passage, in particular, that I recall made me grow fond of the book's voice:
“Before I started publishing books, I inscribed dedications only in those I bought to give as gifts to people I knew. Then one day I suddenly found myself signing books for people who’d bought them themselves, people I’d never met before. What can you write in the book of a total stranger who may be anything from a serial killer to a Righteous Gentile? “In friendship” borders on falsehood; “With admiration” doesn’t hold water; “Best wishes” sounds too avuncular; and “Hope you enjoy my book!” oozes smarm from the first H to the final exclamation point. So, exactly eighteen years ago, on the last night of my first Book Week, I created my own genre: fictitious book dedications. If the books themselves are pure fiction, why should the dedications be true?
“To Danny, who saved my life on the Litani. If you hadn’t tied that tourniquet, there’d be no me and no book.”
...
“To Sinai. I’ll be home late tonight, but I left some cholent in the fridge.”
“To Feige. Where’s that tenner I lent you? You said two days and it’s a month already. I’m still waiting.”
...
“To Avram. I don’t care what the lab tests show. For me, you’ll always be my dad.”
And this passage that I took to heart because it put into words what I couldn't explain:
“They’re a kind of meditative disengagement from the world. Flights are expansive moments when the phone doesn’t ring and the Internet doesn’t work. The maxim that flying time is wasted time liberates me from my anxieties and guilt feelings, and it strips me of all ambitions, leaving room for a different sort of existence. A happy, idiotic existence, the kind that doesn’t try to make the most of time but is satisfied with merely finding the most enjoyable way to spend it.”
This is exactly what keeping Shabbat means, for me.
However, as much as I enjoyed his silly writing, his approach to certain topics rubbed me the wrong way. The main that came to bother me, which I quickly noticed had a recurring theme in the book, was his not-so-subtle hatred for religious Jews. It shows quite apparent when Keret talks about his sister, who made tshuva by "discovering religion" which he, time and again, refers to as: “Nineteen years ago, in a small wedding hall in Bnei Brak, my older sister died, and she now lives in the most Orthodox neighborhood in Jerusalem.”
He states that his sister won't read what he writes, which grants him the opportunity to recklessly bash her religious way of life (which, really, only bothers him because it means that he isn't the one making all the decisions, like whether or not his girlfriend can come over to visit the family whenever he decides). Instead of taking this chance to look into Judaism to connect on a deeper level with his sister (there's so much intricacies to discuss), he just brushes it off as some kind of "madness."
I felt it acutely in the following passage on strangers telling him "what a waste" for a pretty face to not show her body to the whole world because she chooses not to: “And then they’d roll down the window and shout to me how broken up they were about my sister. If the rabbis had taken someone ugly, they could’ve handled it; but grabbing someone with her looks—what a waste!”
His choice of words, full of tension simmering just under the surface, hinted at a lot of pent-up anger towards his sister, which he was now releasing through talking remorselessly about her choices in life. It's unequivocally unfair towards her and her warm family. The only passage that shows them in a good light:
“As I walked into my sister’s house, less than an hour before Shabbat, the children greeted me in unison with their “What’s my name?”—a tradition that began after I once got them mixed up. Considering that my sister has eleven, and that each of them has a double-barreled name, the way the Hasidim usually do, my mistake was certainly forgivable. The fact that all the boys are dressed the same way and decked out with identical sets of payos provides some pretty strong mitigating arguments. But all of them, from Shlomo-Nachman on down, still want to make sure that their peculiar uncle is focused enough, and gives the right present to the right nephew.”
And it doesn't end with his sister, he also comments on his older brother's short-lived period in the yeshiva and then their grandmother's brother, Avraham, who also turned away from religion; implying that they made the better choice in doing so.
It became all the more taxing when Keret had the audacity to claim all the above, but when an elderly Polish woman in Warsaw does the bare minimum (literally preparing a jam sandwich) he commends her. His behavior can be considered textbook Stockholm syndrome: bashing your own people and hugging the ones that stood idly by while your entire family was annihilated...
Anyway, I left The Seven Good Years after the aforementioned with a sour taste in my mouth; I'll stick to Keret's fiction from now on.
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August 24, 2015
"So why'd you come all this way to this dump to give birth?" ....( the taxi driver asks Keret)
"We wanted a natural childbirth. The department here---"
"Natural?" He interrupts, sniggering. "What's natural about a midget with a cable hanging
from his belly button popping out have your wife's vagina?"
"Six hours later, a midget with a cable hanging from his belly comes popping out of
My wife's vagina and immediately starts to cry. I try to calm him down, to
convince him that there's nothing to worry about. That by the time he grows up, everything
here in the Middle East will be settled: peace will come, there won't be any more
terrorists attacks, and even if once in a blue moon there is one, there will always be someone original, someone with a little vision, around to describe it perfectly. He's supposed to
be naïve---seeing how he's a newborn---but even he doesn't buy it, and after a second's
hesitation and a small hiccup, he goes back to crying".
"The Seven Good Years", is a book of vignettes exemplifying moments of Etgar Keret's
years between the birth of his son and the death of his father.
It's a small book - no longer than his others. What's different, is that this is a memoir ....
(but a memoir in *Keret's* style........highlighting little moments that linger in his memory, rather than a complete 'spill all'. I admire this man to no end. He seems to be one of the only authors I know who manages to keep a sense of privacy for himself in his writing, yet at the same time he leaves me feeling is honesty, and seriousness, underneath his humor.
I remember trying to 'analyze-to-death' the ending of a couple of his storiesI in "The Bus Driver Who Wanted To Be God", and "Suddenly A Knock On The Door". I got my husband involved,
another Goodreads member... and in the end...I had to draw my own conclusion.
Keret is phenomenally talented. I think he can write pretty much about anything and his stories will be entertaining, painfully funny, with always hidden truths,
**ETGAR KERET is seriously one of my most favorite authors. I'm obviously not the only one who thinks so. It's a known fact, that in Israel no other books are stolen more often then
Keret's.
Oh.... And in case you're wondering; I paid full price for my book!
.......'supporting my local independent bookstore'.
"We wanted a natural childbirth. The department here---"
"Natural?" He interrupts, sniggering. "What's natural about a midget with a cable hanging
from his belly button popping out have your wife's vagina?"
"Six hours later, a midget with a cable hanging from his belly comes popping out of
My wife's vagina and immediately starts to cry. I try to calm him down, to
convince him that there's nothing to worry about. That by the time he grows up, everything
here in the Middle East will be settled: peace will come, there won't be any more
terrorists attacks, and even if once in a blue moon there is one, there will always be someone original, someone with a little vision, around to describe it perfectly. He's supposed to
be naïve---seeing how he's a newborn---but even he doesn't buy it, and after a second's
hesitation and a small hiccup, he goes back to crying".
"The Seven Good Years", is a book of vignettes exemplifying moments of Etgar Keret's
years between the birth of his son and the death of his father.
It's a small book - no longer than his others. What's different, is that this is a memoir ....
(but a memoir in *Keret's* style........highlighting little moments that linger in his memory, rather than a complete 'spill all'. I admire this man to no end. He seems to be one of the only authors I know who manages to keep a sense of privacy for himself in his writing, yet at the same time he leaves me feeling is honesty, and seriousness, underneath his humor.
I remember trying to 'analyze-to-death' the ending of a couple of his storiesI in "The Bus Driver Who Wanted To Be God", and "Suddenly A Knock On The Door". I got my husband involved,
another Goodreads member... and in the end...I had to draw my own conclusion.
Keret is phenomenally talented. I think he can write pretty much about anything and his stories will be entertaining, painfully funny, with always hidden truths,
**ETGAR KERET is seriously one of my most favorite authors. I'm obviously not the only one who thinks so. It's a known fact, that in Israel no other books are stolen more often then
Keret's.
Oh.... And in case you're wondering; I paid full price for my book!
.......'supporting my local independent bookstore'.
September 26, 2015
What an amazing little book! All I know is that I loved this. I want others to read it.
Short little episodic bits of a man's life that speak volumes, all during a seven year period between the birth of the author's son and the death of his father. Short little stories that say so much through humor. Simple little "episodes" of love, of human stupidity, of birth and death and taxi drivers who never get to pee anywhere and nobody gives a damn.
Four or five stars? It moved me. It said important things through humor. That takes talent. I finally decided that I liked it a lot, but utterly amazing? No.
What is it like to live in Israel today? Curious? Read this book. I have no solution to the Palestine/Israel dilemma. It makes my heart bleed.
Alex Karpovsky narrates the audiobook. It sounds like the author is reading it! I was totally fooled. I loved the voice used for his son. I didn't catch every single word and had to rewind occasionally. I still loved it.
Do yourself a favor. Read or listen to this book. Laughter is important, and important things are said.
Short little episodic bits of a man's life that speak volumes, all during a seven year period between the birth of the author's son and the death of his father. Short little stories that say so much through humor. Simple little "episodes" of love, of human stupidity, of birth and death and taxi drivers who never get to pee anywhere and nobody gives a damn.
Four or five stars? It moved me. It said important things through humor. That takes talent. I finally decided that I liked it a lot, but utterly amazing? No.
What is it like to live in Israel today? Curious? Read this book. I have no solution to the Palestine/Israel dilemma. It makes my heart bleed.
Alex Karpovsky narrates the audiobook. It sounds like the author is reading it! I was totally fooled. I loved the voice used for his son. I didn't catch every single word and had to rewind occasionally. I still loved it.
Do yourself a favor. Read or listen to this book. Laughter is important, and important things are said.
June 28, 2015
I'm not sure how I've missed this guy until now, because this memoir is something special. He is a Jewish writer who lives in Tel Aviv and deals with the possibility of violence and death on a daily basis. This is the best kind of memoir; honest, funny, sometimes profoundly so, and branded with a special, quirky way of looking at reality. He writes of the 7 years between the birth of his son and the death of his father. He really is a genius. And after the kindergarten story, I'm pretty sure his son is too. His wife is a master of the put-down, which I can appreciate. She keeps him grounded.
I will definitely be looking for his short story collections.
I will definitely be looking for his short story collections.
August 28, 2015
Един мой любим съвременен български писател ме открехна за Керет. Случи се преди две години, през зимата, с един много кратък разказ, който може да се чете и като бележка, и като коментар (в социална медия примерно), и като стихотворение. Става дума за Пристъп на астма. Тогава се впечатлих много и, логично, покупката на първия ми Керетов сборник (а и първия, преведен на български) - Автобусният шофьор, който искаше да бъде Бог - не закъсня. Много. Ако си спомням ясно, в първите седмици на пролетта вече го държах в ръцете си. Първата ми работа беше да прочета на всички важни за мен хора Пристъп...-а. После се залових за работа и лакомо, като книжното торпедо, което, както ми казаха скоро, съм, го прочетох. В последствие съм го препрочитала още няколко пъти и - въпреки че е толкова кратък, въпреки че съм го чела преди - вкусът е същият. Сладък и затрогващ. Чудатата рожба на буца, заседнала в гърлото, и катарзис.
Такова е писането на Керет.
С яркочервената корица на Етгар (справка: Автобусният шофьор...) се познаваме добре, но никога не пропускам да прочета предговора ѝ, написан специално от него за българските читатели. Едно топло усещане за скромност - но не от типа на изпълнителите, които на концертите си подмятат Може и да сте ни чували, ние сме *insert name of a famous band here*. Инстинктивно вярваш на този добряк - преди да си го чел даже. Даже и да не си бил, изведнъж се чувстваш изморен от съмнение - а на българите, макар че страня от такива заключения, това ни е вродено. Усещането, че имаш нужда да се довериш на някого, намира пристан в прозата на Керет. Уютно е.
Та. Две лета по-късно държа в ръцете си сборник номер две (в личната ми хронологична поредица), който съм решила да прочета. И аз попораснала, и Керет - също. И една лична загуба - мост. Не пропускам удоволствието да обърна подобаващо внимание на предговора и към този сборник. И как, мислите, се казва той? Близки срещи от втория вид. Да, случайност е, но аз живея за такива случайности. Нали на тях се базира мантрата ми - книгите те намират.
Преди това пък съм прочела, че предговорът от първия сборник всъщност е бил част от този. Също приятна вметка, която очертава кръга на правилната (ми) последователност.
Както казах, Керет пише едновременно сладко - умиляващо сладко, сладкодумно - кара те да го харесваш, ама много да го харесваш, да го искаш за приятел, да искаш да му се - както пише Селинджър - обадиш по телефона. Любопитен разказвач, талантлив. Овладял словото до такава степен, че, побирайки фейлетоните си върху страница-две, успява да разсмее, да разтърси, да затрогне. А това все още значи много. В моя свят. В който и да е свят.
Неслучайно твърдят, че разказът е най-трудната форма в прозата. И не, мили Етгар, не е нужно хора да те потупат утешително по рамото и доверчиво да отбележат, че, ако не друго, то поне на иврит разказите (...) сигурно се разбират. Формата е несъвършена - кой би искал това, кой би го очаквал - но толкова земна и човешка, че преминава условните граници. Скача над езика. Браво и на чудесната Милена Варзоновцева, която и този път е уловила Керет. Как съм сигурна, без да съм го чела на иврит ли? Ами, преводачът - както казва Керет - трябва да е като нинджа. Усетиш ли го, не си е свършил работата читаво. А аз усещах само Етгар. Чувах го как се смее даже. Как плаче - също. Макар че няма как да знам. Често се чудя, между другото, чии гласове чуваме, когато четем. Не са нашите. Може би читателят развива свръхестествена връзка с писателя, знам ли. Гласовете им чувам.
Извън това леко шизофренично лирично отклонение - не знам как плаче Етгар, но аз бях на път да се разплача, и ако не бях сред хора, може би щеше да се случи (още не се е намерила книгата, която да го постигне, но тук бях доста близо). И друг път съм чела автобиографични (или полуавтобиографични) повествования, но Етгар Керет е на съвсем друго ниво. Не чувствам, че нахлувам в живота му - той сам е решил да ми разкаже всичко, ако ще и сбито, в 140 страници. Личният елемент в историите винаги е нож с две остриета - тънка е границата между увлекателното и усещането, че четеш нещо, което започва с Мило дневниче....
Керет е искрен, но не до болка - знае как да спре малко преди да заболи. Трогва, без да обезсърчава. Защото Обичам живота (...) Ако качеството му е добро, чудесно. Ако не, пак добре. Не съм придирчив. Затова е лесно да го обикнеш - защото щади. А в този живот все по-често имаме нужда от човек, който разбира, че сме се настрадали, и в наша чест преобразява реалността във фикция, поръсвайки я с щипка хумор. От това, повярвайте, не страда нито реалността, нито литературата.
Тук помествам и едно прекрасно определение за писателя - за писателя, който не цери, а за писателя, който прави каквото може... и това е достатъчно.
Такъв е редът на този свят. Писателят не го създава, но е тук, за да каже каквото е нужно да се каже. Има граница между убиването на насекоми и убиването на жаби и дори писателят да не я е преминавал, негово задължение е да я посочи. Писателят (...) е обикновен грешник с малко по-изострена наблюдателност и малко по-точен език (...) И с нищо не е по-добър от своите читатели (дори понякога е и много по-лош от тях) (...) тъй като писателят е тук, до нас, затънал до шия в кал и мръсотия, няма по-подходящ от него да сподели какво се случва в главата му - в озарените ѝ части и особено в мрачните ѝ кътчета. Писателят няма да ни отведе в Обетованата земя, няма да донесе световен мир или да изцери болните. Но ако си свърши работата добре, може би няколко жаби ще оцелеят.
Сега ще ме извините, но бързам да прочета една от прекрасните истории на любим човек.
Защото хубавите неща са винаги споделени.
Такова е писането на Керет.
С яркочервената корица на Етгар (справка: Автобусният шофьор...) се познаваме добре, но никога не пропускам да прочета предговора ѝ, написан специално от него за българските читатели. Едно топло усещане за скромност - но не от типа на изпълнителите, които на концертите си подмятат Може и да сте ни чували, ние сме *insert name of a famous band here*. Инстинктивно вярваш на този добряк - преди да си го чел даже. Даже и да не си бил, изведнъж се чувстваш изморен от съмнение - а на българите, макар че страня от такива заключения, това ни е вродено. Усещането, че имаш нужда да се довериш на някого, намира пристан в прозата на Керет. Уютно е.
Та. Две лета по-късно държа в ръцете си сборник номер две (в личната ми хронологична поредица), който съм решила да прочета. И аз попораснала, и Керет - също. И една лична загуба - мост. Не пропускам удоволствието да обърна подобаващо внимание на предговора и към този сборник. И как, мислите, се казва той? Близки срещи от втория вид. Да, случайност е, но аз живея за такива случайности. Нали на тях се базира мантрата ми - книгите те намират.
Преди това пък съм прочела, че предговорът от първия сборник всъщност е бил част от този. Също приятна вметка, която очертава кръга на правилната (ми) последователност.
Както казах, Керет пише едновременно сладко - умиляващо сладко, сладкодумно - кара те да го харесваш, ама много да го харесваш, да го искаш за приятел, да искаш да му се - както пише Селинджър - обадиш по телефона. Любопитен разказвач, талантлив. Овладял словото до такава степен, че, побирайки фейлетоните си върху страница-две, успява да разсмее, да разтърси, да затрогне. А това все още значи много. В моя свят. В който и да е свят.
Неслучайно твърдят, че разказът е най-трудната форма в прозата. И не, мили Етгар, не е нужно хора да те потупат утешително по рамото и доверчиво да отбележат, че, ако не друго, то поне на иврит разказите (...) сигурно се разбират. Формата е несъвършена - кой би искал това, кой би го очаквал - но толкова земна и човешка, че преминава условните граници. Скача над езика. Браво и на чудесната Милена Варзоновцева, която и този път е уловила Керет. Как съм сигурна, без да съм го чела на иврит ли? Ами, преводачът - както казва Керет - трябва да е като нинджа. Усетиш ли го, не си е свършил работата читаво. А аз усещах само Етгар. Чувах го как се смее даже. Как плаче - също. Макар че няма как да знам. Често се чудя, между другото, чии гласове чуваме, когато четем. Не са нашите. Може би читателят развива свръхестествена връзка с писателя, знам ли. Гласовете им чувам.
Извън това леко шизофренично лирично отклонение - не знам как плаче Етгар, но аз бях на път да се разплача, и ако не бях сред хора, може би щеше да се случи (още не се е намерила книгата, която да го постигне, но тук бях доста близо). И друг път съм чела автобиографични (или полуавтобиографични) повествования, но Етгар Керет е на съвсем друго ниво. Не чувствам, че нахлувам в живота му - той сам е решил да ми разкаже всичко, ако ще и сбито, в 140 страници. Личният елемент в историите винаги е нож с две остриета - тънка е границата между увлекателното и усещането, че четеш нещо, което започва с Мило дневниче....
Керет е искрен, но не до болка - знае как да спре малко преди да заболи. Трогва, без да обезсърчава. Защото Обичам живота (...) Ако качеството му е добро, чудесно. Ако не, пак добре. Не съм придирчив. Затова е лесно да го обикнеш - защото щади. А в този живот все по-често имаме нужда от човек, който разбира, че сме се настрадали, и в наша чест преобразява реалността във фикция, поръсвайки я с щипка хумор. От това, повярвайте, не страда нито реалността, нито литературата.
Тук помествам и едно прекрасно определение за писателя - за писателя, който не цери, а за писателя, който прави каквото може... и това е достатъчно.
Такъв е редът на този свят. Писателят не го създава, но е тук, за да каже каквото е нужно да се каже. Има граница между убиването на насекоми и убиването на жаби и дори писателят да не я е преминавал, негово задължение е да я посочи. Писателят (...) е обикновен грешник с малко по-изострена наблюдателност и малко по-точен език (...) И с нищо не е по-добър от своите читатели (дори понякога е и много по-лош от тях) (...) тъй като писателят е тук, до нас, затънал до шия в кал и мръсотия, няма по-подходящ от него да сподели какво се случва в главата му - в озарените ѝ части и особено в мрачните ѝ кътчета. Писателят няма да ни отведе в Обетованата земя, няма да донесе световен мир или да изцери болните. Но ако си свърши работата добре, може би няколко жаби ще оцелеят.
Сега ще ме извините, но бързам да прочета една от прекрасните истории на любим човек.
Защото хубавите неща са винаги споделени.
August 27, 2019
I loved this collection of personal episodes about seven years in writer's life, between the birth of his son and his father's death. They are just what I needed now. They were getting me through a difficult time. Small essays on love, fatherhood, aging parents, human stupidity, human kindness. Funny, sad, warm and wise. They are beautifully written, too.
From the book I learned a lot what it's like to live in Israel today. I've been recently there but the trip, the touristic one, was more about the past and the history. In Jerusalem every stone has a story to tell, in Tel Aviv I saw modern buildings, nice restaurants, beautiful beach. I've never been near to any sign of war there aside from the military presence in some parts of Jerusalem. These stories told me what might be behind the facade.
From the book I learned a lot what it's like to live in Israel today. I've been recently there but the trip, the touristic one, was more about the past and the history. In Jerusalem every stone has a story to tell, in Tel Aviv I saw modern buildings, nice restaurants, beautiful beach. I've never been near to any sign of war there aside from the military presence in some parts of Jerusalem. These stories told me what might be behind the facade.
August 4, 2018
”-De ce ai vrut să mă protejezi?
— Pentru că te iubesc, i-am spus, pentru că eşti fiul meu. Pentru că un tată trebuie întotdeauna să-şi protejeze fiul.
— Dar de ce? a insistat Lev. De ce trebuie un tată să-şi protejeze fiul?
— Uite, i-am zis mângâindu-l pe obraz, lumea în care trăim poate fi uneori foarte dură. Şi corect e ca oricine se naşte în ea să aibă cel puţin un om care să fie acolo să-l protejeze.
— Dar tu? m-a întrebat Lev. Pe tine cine o să te protejeze acum, că bunicul a murit?”
— Pentru că te iubesc, i-am spus, pentru că eşti fiul meu. Pentru că un tată trebuie întotdeauna să-şi protejeze fiul.
— Dar de ce? a insistat Lev. De ce trebuie un tată să-şi protejeze fiul?
— Uite, i-am zis mângâindu-l pe obraz, lumea în care trăim poate fi uneori foarte dură. Şi corect e ca oricine se naşte în ea să aibă cel puţin un om care să fie acolo să-l protejeze.
— Dar tu? m-a întrebat Lev. Pe tine cine o să te protejeze acum, că bunicul a murit?”
March 8, 2019
Τον Απρίλιο του 2016 διάβασα για πρώτη φορά βιβλίο του Έτγκαρ Κέρετ (και γενικά βιβλίο Ισραηλινού συγγραφέα), και πιο συγκεκριμένα το "Το κορίτσι στο ψυγείο", μια μικρή συλλογή διηγημάτων που δεν με είχε ενθουσιάσει. Η δεύτερη επαφή με το έργο του έμελλε να είναι μια συλλογή αυτοβιογραφικών ιστοριών του συγγραφέα, και μπορώ να πω ότι αυτή τη φορά τα πράγματα είναι σαφώς καλύτερα. Πρόκειται για ένα πραγματικά απολαυστικό βιβλίο, γεμάτο ευχάριστο και οξυδερκές χιούμορ, αλλά και με κάποιες ανησυχίες για τη σύγχρονη πραγματικότητα. Γινόμαστε μάρτυρες ορισμένων σημαντικών στιγμών από τη ζωή του συγγραφέα, οι οποίες παρουσιάζονται με έξυπνο και άμεσο τρόπο, με έντονη αυτοσαρκαστική διάθεση. Παράλληλα παίρνουμε και μια ιδέα για το σύγχρονο Ισραήλ και την καθημερινότητα των κατοίκων του. Το μόνο σίγουρο είναι ότι θα διαβάσω και άλλα βιβλία του συγγραφέα.
March 20, 2016
A book of richly written, alive, moving, insightful, and funny essays by Israeli writer Etgar Keret. I've never read Keret before, so this little book was a wonderful discovery. I've never been to Israel and Keret's anecdotes are in stunning contrast to my two-dimensional impressions from news reports. This is a sometimes profoundly moving collection of pieces about real life, real people, and the precious mundane. Thank you, my Goodreads friends who posted about The Seven Good Years. You have expanded my reading and therefore my life. I'm so grateful.
October 29, 2020
К��рет е уникално добър както винаги. Най-много се смях на разказа за гущера от Нова Каледония и за този за ядрената заплаха от Иран.
September 27, 2017
Sete Anos bons é um conjunto de trinta e seis histórias da vida quotidiana do autor, repartidas por um período de sete anos, que se inicia com o ano em que o autor foi pai e terminam com o ano em que perdeu o seu.
Foi um livro que me foi cativando aos poucos. Por detrás de uma aparente ligeireza, ou até banalidade, emana algo mais forte e profundo que não consigo definir. Há um humor doce que percorre os relatos, dos mais divertidos aos mais dolorosos, e que nos enternece e faz sorrir. A escrita é bastante eficaz pela informação e emoções que consegue transmitir em textos tão curtos.
Não é uma obra estrondosa, com acontecimentos épicos, melodramáticos, floreados, foguetes ou fogo de artifício; foi antes uma experiência intimista que me deixou uma sensação de aconchego e de coração aquecido. Gostei muito.
De "Idolatria":
Aos três anos tinha um irmão de dez, e no fundo do meu coração desejava ser igualzinho a ele quando crescesse. (...) O meu irmão mais velho já saltara dois anos escolares e tinha um conhecimento invejável de tudo, desde física atómica e a programação de computadores até ao alfabeto cirílico. Por volta daqueles anos o meu irmão começou a preocupar-se sinceramente comigo. Lera no jornal Haaretz um artigo que dizia que pessoas iletradas eram excluídas do mercado de trabalho, e a ideia de que aquele querido irmão de três anos viesse a ter dificuldades para arranjar emprego preocupava-o imenso. Daí que tenha começado a ensinar-me a ler e a escrever com uma técnica única a que ele chamou «o método da pastilha elástica». Funcionava assim: o meu irmão apontava para uma palavra que eu tinha de ler em voz alta.. Se eu lesse corretamente, ele dava-me uma pastilha elástica nova. Se eu errasse, ele colava-me a sua pastilha mastigada nos cabelos. O método funcionou às mil maravilhas, e aos quatro anos eu era o único miúdo do jardim infantil que sabia ler. Era também o único que, à primeira vista, parecia careca.
(p.72)
Foi um livro que me foi cativando aos poucos. Por detrás de uma aparente ligeireza, ou até banalidade, emana algo mais forte e profundo que não consigo definir. Há um humor doce que percorre os relatos, dos mais divertidos aos mais dolorosos, e que nos enternece e faz sorrir. A escrita é bastante eficaz pela informação e emoções que consegue transmitir em textos tão curtos.
Não é uma obra estrondosa, com acontecimentos épicos, melodramáticos, floreados, foguetes ou fogo de artifício; foi antes uma experiência intimista que me deixou uma sensação de aconchego e de coração aquecido. Gostei muito.
De "Idolatria":
Aos três anos tinha um irmão de dez, e no fundo do meu coração desejava ser igualzinho a ele quando crescesse. (...) O meu irmão mais velho já saltara dois anos escolares e tinha um conhecimento invejável de tudo, desde física atómica e a programação de computadores até ao alfabeto cirílico. Por volta daqueles anos o meu irmão começou a preocupar-se sinceramente comigo. Lera no jornal Haaretz um artigo que dizia que pessoas iletradas eram excluídas do mercado de trabalho, e a ideia de que aquele querido irmão de três anos viesse a ter dificuldades para arranjar emprego preocupava-o imenso. Daí que tenha começado a ensinar-me a ler e a escrever com uma técnica única a que ele chamou «o método da pastilha elástica». Funcionava assim: o meu irmão apontava para uma palavra que eu tinha de ler em voz alta.. Se eu lesse corretamente, ele dava-me uma pastilha elástica nova. Se eu errasse, ele colava-me a sua pastilha mastigada nos cabelos. O método funcionou às mil maravilhas, e aos quatro anos eu era o único miúdo do jardim infantil que sabia ler. Era também o único que, à primeira vista, parecia careca.
(p.72)
December 15, 2022
Etgar Keret és un autor israelià que escriu habitualment en hebreu, poc conegut aquí, però molt popular pels seus contes en altres països. Quan es va decidir a escriure sobre la seva pròpia vida ho va fer en anglès i, per desig exprés seu, les traduccions que s'han fet del llibre venen d'aquesta llengua.
'Set anys de plenitud' és un recull d'escrits curts, anècdotes, records, narrats amb molta tendresa, amb un puntet melancòlic, i amb un humor que convida a relativitzar tota la maror de fons que amaga. El conflicte armat a Israel, l'antisemitisme, els atacs terroristes, la corrupció, la malaltia, tot aflora rere unes vivències personals en les que els seus viatges a festivals literaris i la seva família hi juguen un paper important.
De fet, els set anys del títol fan referència als set primers anys de vida del seu fill. Els relats en els que apareix el nen destil·len un amor que t'abraça. Però em quedo amb la Shira, la seva dona, per qui ell sent devoció, i que li fa un contrapunt divertidíssim. Tots els textos estan narrats de manera molt agradable i molt planera, Keret gaudeix de riure's d'ell mateix i dels seus, però ho fa amb tant afecte que no pots fer altra cosa que estimar-te tota la família. En canvi, no ens estimarem tant els taxistes i d'altres individus que coneixerem!
Keret era un complet desconegut per mi, ho reconec. Quan Segona Perifèria em va proposar llegir-lo no les tenia totes, però estic molt agraït que m'hagin descobert aquest autor. M'ha agradat molt el seu estil, la manera d'explicar les vivències més senzilles, les importants. I la capacitat de trobar la bellesa arreu, fins i tot en les pitjors circumstàncies, les d'un conflicte que mai acaba.
(SERGI)
'Set anys de plenitud' és un recull d'escrits curts, anècdotes, records, narrats amb molta tendresa, amb un puntet melancòlic, i amb un humor que convida a relativitzar tota la maror de fons que amaga. El conflicte armat a Israel, l'antisemitisme, els atacs terroristes, la corrupció, la malaltia, tot aflora rere unes vivències personals en les que els seus viatges a festivals literaris i la seva família hi juguen un paper important.
De fet, els set anys del títol fan referència als set primers anys de vida del seu fill. Els relats en els que apareix el nen destil·len un amor que t'abraça. Però em quedo amb la Shira, la seva dona, per qui ell sent devoció, i que li fa un contrapunt divertidíssim. Tots els textos estan narrats de manera molt agradable i molt planera, Keret gaudeix de riure's d'ell mateix i dels seus, però ho fa amb tant afecte que no pots fer altra cosa que estimar-te tota la família. En canvi, no ens estimarem tant els taxistes i d'altres individus que coneixerem!
Keret era un complet desconegut per mi, ho reconec. Quan Segona Perifèria em va proposar llegir-lo no les tenia totes, però estic molt agraït que m'hagin descobert aquest autor. M'ha agradat molt el seu estil, la manera d'explicar les vivències més senzilles, les importants. I la capacitat de trobar la bellesa arreu, fins i tot en les pitjors circumstàncies, les d'un conflicte que mai acaba.
(SERGI)
July 4, 2021
#MUSTREAD Masterpiece of short storytelling! For readers of Ephraim Kishon... :)
September 29, 2021
Τον Έτγκαρ Κέρετ μου τον σύστησε η ταινία Wristcutters: A Love Story την οποία και συνιστώ ανεπιφύλακτα σε όσους έχουν ήδη αποπειραθεί να αυτοκτονήσουν εξαιτίας ρομαντικής εγκατάλειψης. Καλά, μπορούν να την δουν και άλλοι υποθέτω.
Το Επτά χρόνια Ευτυχίας είναι μια ιδιαίτερη και πρωτότυπη ανθολογία από προσωπικές στιγμές του συγγραφέα στο σύγχρονο Ισραήλ. Ακολουθούμε τον Κέρετ, κάτι που ας το παραδεχτούμε: Λατρεύουμε να κάνουμε. Ποιον να ακολουθήσουμε εάν όχι αυτόν τον πανέξυπνο και συμπαθητικό Εβραίο; Τον παίρνουμε στο κατόπι στο Τελ Αβίβ, μέσα σε ταξί που τα οδηγούν αγενείς ταξιτζήδες είτε ταξιτζήδες που κατουριούνται και ο ίδιος τους προτρέπει να επισκεφθούν την δικιά του τουαλέτα. Ακολουθούμε τον Κέρετ ο οποίος διαφωνεί με την γυναίκα του για τα πιο περίεργα πράγματα και θέτουν τα πιο αστεία ερωτήματα όπως «είναι οκ να προσφέρεις το μπάνιο σου σε ένα ταξιτζή;». Μαθαίνουμε για την αδερφή του με τα έντεκα παιδιά, την οποία αργά και σταθερά χάνει από τα χέρια της θρησκείας και παρακολουθούμε την αξιολάτρευτη σχέση αγάπης και θαυμασμού που έχει με τον μεγαλύτερο και εντυπωσιακό ειρηνιστή αδερφό του. Ακόμα, είμαστε παρόντες στην γέννηση του γιου του, του Λεβ και τα επτά χρόνια ευτυχίας που ζουν. Δεν χάνει την ευκαιρία να μας κάνει χειρουργείο ανοιχτής καρδιάς με του γονείς του που επέζησαν από το Ολοκαύτωμα. Πάνω που καταρρέουμε, μας κάνει κομπρέσες με μαύρο χιούμορ για να αντέξουμε το πιο μελανό σημείο της ιστορίας.
Τα απολαυστικά χρονογραφήματα του (1-7 χρόνια) είναι οι καθημερινές ιστορίες που εξελίσσονται μέσα σε μόνο 3-4 σελίδες η κάθε μια και θυμίζουν λίγο θιβετιανή ροδακινόπιτα και πολύ David Sedaris, αλλά με περισσότερες βομβιστικές επιθέσεις.
Το μόνο σίγουρο είναι πως θα προσκομίσω και τα υπόλοιπα βιβλία του γιατί με απασχολούν κι εμένα τα παρακάτω ερωτήματα: «Γιατί να πλύνεις τα πιάτα όταν ξέρεις ότι ανά πάσα στιγμή μπορεί να σου πέσει μια ρουκέτα στο κεφάλι και να τα διαλύσει όλα; Και αυτά τα τρομερά πουλιά, από το παιχνίδι «Angry Birds», έτσι όπως εκσφενδονίζονται πάνω σε εύθραυστα σπίτια, δεν μοιάζουν με εξαγριωμένους τρομοκράτες;»
Το Επτά χρόνια Ευτυχίας είναι μια ιδιαίτερη και πρωτότυπη ανθολογία από προσωπικές στιγμές του συγγραφέα στο σύγχρονο Ισραήλ. Ακολουθούμε τον Κέρετ, κάτι που ας το παραδεχτούμε: Λατρεύουμε να κάνουμε. Ποιον να ακολουθήσουμε εάν όχι αυτόν τον πανέξυπνο και συμπαθητικό Εβραίο; Τον παίρνουμε στο κατόπι στο Τελ Αβίβ, μέσα σε ταξί που τα οδηγούν αγενείς ταξιτζήδες είτε ταξιτζήδες που κατουριούνται και ο ίδιος τους προτρέπει να επισκεφθούν την δικιά του τουαλέτα. Ακολουθούμε τον Κέρετ ο οποίος διαφωνεί με την γυναίκα του για τα πιο περίεργα πράγματα και θέτουν τα πιο αστεία ερωτήματα όπως «είναι οκ να προσφέρεις το μπάνιο σου σε ένα ταξιτζή;». Μαθαίνουμε για την αδερφή του με τα έντεκα παιδιά, την οποία αργά και σταθερά χάνει από τα χέρια της θρησκείας και παρακολουθούμε την αξιολάτρευτη σχέση αγάπης και θαυμασμού που έχει με τον μεγαλύτερο και εντυπωσιακό ειρηνιστή αδερφό του. Ακόμα, είμαστε παρόντες στην γέννηση του γιου του, του Λεβ και τα επτά χρόνια ευτυχίας που ζουν. Δεν χάνει την ευκαιρία να μας κάνει χειρουργείο ανοιχτής καρδιάς με του γονείς του που επέζησαν από το Ολοκαύτωμα. Πάνω που καταρρέουμε, μας κάνει κομπρέσες με μαύρο χιούμορ για να αντέξουμε το πιο μελανό σημείο της ιστορίας.
Τα απολαυστικά χρονογραφήματα του (1-7 χρόνια) είναι οι καθημερινές ιστορίες που εξελίσσονται μέσα σε μόνο 3-4 σελίδες η κάθε μια και θυμίζουν λίγο θιβετιανή ροδακινόπιτα και πολύ David Sedaris, αλλά με περισσότερες βομβιστικές επιθέσεις.
Το μόνο σίγουρο είναι πως θα προσκομίσω και τα υπόλοιπα βιβλία του γιατί με απασχολούν κι εμένα τα παρακάτω ερωτήματα: «Γιατί να πλύνεις τα πιάτα όταν ξέρεις ότι ανά πάσα στιγμή μπορεί να σου πέσει μια ρουκέτα στο κεφάλι και να τα διαλύσει όλα; Και αυτά τα τρομερά πουλιά, από το παιχνίδι «Angry Birds», έτσι όπως εκσφενδονίζονται πάνω σε εύθραυστα σπίτια, δεν μοιάζουν με εξαγριωμένους τρομοκράτες;»
May 6, 2021
Knjiga na dan, ljekar nije potreban. Ovo simpatično, jednostavno štivo bih svrstala u tu kategoriju jer priče su tople, životne, presmiješne, a pročitaju se za sat-dva. Vrlo prijatno iznenađenje na više nivoa, nešto poput Kišona, sličan šmek vjerovatno zbog toga što se radi o porodičnim minijaturama i jer dolaze iz pera još jednog slavnog Izraelca. Vrlo opuštajuće uz kao usputne nezaobilazne antisemitske teme i opaske. Tehnički dovedene do perfekcije. Topla preporuka baš svima!
January 27, 2019
memuar bilmirəm niyə amma ən sevdiyim ədəbi janrdı. insanın özünü nə qədər, yaxud hansı formalarda təqdim edə bilməsi zırt pırt o temalara girmirəm. ecazkar həyat yaşayan adamların memuarları da ləzzət eləmir, nə bilim ala çətinlikləri aşmış, ümidi itirməməyi aşılayan klassik tip avtobioqrafiyalar. bunları oxuyanda mən şəxsən daha da ümidimi itirirəm. bu baxımdan, uzağa getməyək, seymur baycanı ideal görürəm. düzdü, tez-tez toyuğun döş ətindən, araz kinoteatrından, hərbi məktəbdən-zaddan danışır, amma mənə ləzzət eliyir.
etgat keret hekayə janrının anasını ağlatmış adamdı. iki səhifədə elə reski emosional dəyişiklər eliyir, şıllaq atır ki, adamın ağlına oy blyadan başqa bir şey gəlmir. özünəxas qəribə absurd dəst-xətti var əclafın. "qəfil döyülən qapı" deyə bir hekayəsi var, rastınıza düşsə mütləq göz gəzdirin. indi bu qəribə absurd dəst-xəttini memuara tətbiq eliyib dəli bir şey çıxıb ortaya, şəxsən çox xoşuma gəldi, taksi şoferləriylə gic-gic söhbətlər, samalyotdakı temalar, yoqaya başlamaq istəməsi, ilk hekayəsini yazması, kitablarının imza mərasimində nə yazım nə yazım deyib votvota düşməsi, sonra dəli şeylər yazması, hələ balaca oğluynan temaları. o uşaq vobşe başqa aləmdi, zənnimcə hardasa elə mənnən də yaşıddı. uşaq keretdən soruşur ki, məni niyə qorumaq istiyirsən ki. keret fikirləşib deyir çünki atalar övladlarını həmişə qorumalıdı. uşaq da qayıdır ki, səni kim qoruyacaq bəs. bu qədər sadə. bu qədər mürəkkəb.
mütləq oxunası kitab deyil. möhtəşəm də deyil. sadə. güldürməyəcək qədər kədərli, ağlatmayacaq qədər komik (bu deyimi kimsə çexov üçün demişdi, fırlatdığımı gizlətməyəcəm). müəyyən süjet xətti var; oğlunun doğulmasıyla başlayıb atasının ölməsilə qurtarır. etgar keretdi də, indi oturub özüyçün hardasa tel-əvivdəki evində, küçədən keçən, metroya tələsən adamlara tamaşa edib bu şəhər vurnuxmasına absurd baxır, necə baxırsa elə də yazır
etgat keret hekayə janrının anasını ağlatmış adamdı. iki səhifədə elə reski emosional dəyişiklər eliyir, şıllaq atır ki, adamın ağlına oy blyadan başqa bir şey gəlmir. özünəxas qəribə absurd dəst-xətti var əclafın. "qəfil döyülən qapı" deyə bir hekayəsi var, rastınıza düşsə mütləq göz gəzdirin. indi bu qəribə absurd dəst-xəttini memuara tətbiq eliyib dəli bir şey çıxıb ortaya, şəxsən çox xoşuma gəldi, taksi şoferləriylə gic-gic söhbətlər, samalyotdakı temalar, yoqaya başlamaq istəməsi, ilk hekayəsini yazması, kitablarının imza mərasimində nə yazım nə yazım deyib votvota düşməsi, sonra dəli şeylər yazması, hələ balaca oğluynan temaları. o uşaq vobşe başqa aləmdi, zənnimcə hardasa elə mənnən də yaşıddı. uşaq keretdən soruşur ki, məni niyə qorumaq istiyirsən ki. keret fikirləşib deyir çünki atalar övladlarını həmişə qorumalıdı. uşaq da qayıdır ki, səni kim qoruyacaq bəs. bu qədər sadə. bu qədər mürəkkəb.
mütləq oxunası kitab deyil. möhtəşəm də deyil. sadə. güldürməyəcək qədər kədərli, ağlatmayacaq qədər komik (bu deyimi kimsə çexov üçün demişdi, fırlatdığımı gizlətməyəcəm). müəyyən süjet xətti var; oğlunun doğulmasıyla başlayıb atasının ölməsilə qurtarır. etgar keretdi də, indi oturub özüyçün hardasa tel-əvivdəki evində, küçədən keçən, metroya tələsən adamlara tamaşa edib bu şəhər vurnuxmasına absurd baxır, necə baxırsa elə də yazır
December 15, 2017
Отново на ръба между смеха и сълзите. Започва с атентат и завършва с бомби. А помежду им вирее любовта. Този път нямам любими разкази. Как да отделиш като маловажна някоя част от живота на един човек (като мен и той малко подценявал биографичните творби (или художествена документалистика по-скоро в случая), но се справя отлично заради начина, по който поднася историите – керетовски разбира се, плюс още една доза откровеност).
Помислям си първо за брата и сестрата на Етгар (като най-впечатлили ме разкази и „развръзки“). Но след това – детето, съпругата, баща му!, майка му; самият Етгар – човекът с всичко човешко, бащата, писателят, евреинът, полякът?; „котките“!, комерсиализацията, Холокоста!, войни след войни, страни след страни...
В тази (и още по-сложна) обстановка – ето го нашият главен герой:
„… седях на неудобния дървен стол в твърде горещата библиотечна зала на арт колонията и слушах за собствените си страхове, желания и дори агресията, която вечно тлее в мен, но се прикрива толкова добре, че само тя и аз знаем за нейното съществуване.“
Не мога да пропусна да отделя място за детето от „Седем добри години“.
„Синът ми Лев се оплаква, че не ме е виждал да плача. Виждал е майка си да плаче няколко пъти, особено когато му чете някоя приказка с тъжен край. Веднъж видя и баба си да плаче – на третия му рожден ден, когато ѝ каза, че си пожелава дядо му да оздравее. Дори учителката си от детската градина беше виждал да плаче, когато ѝ се обадили да ѝ съобщят, че баща ѝ е поч��нал. Само мен не ме е виждал да плача. И от това ми става неловко.“
„Ами ти? – попита Лев. – Кой ще те пази, след като дядо умря?
Не се разплаках пред Лев, а по-късно същата вечер, в самолета за Лос Анджелис.“
И пак не искам да говоря за любими разкази, но ще спомена най-спонтанно разплакалите ме, за родителите на Керет: за обувките на татко му и за мармалада в родината на майка му.
Предпочитам да не копирам най-силните за мен изречения от тези два разказа. Вместо това, едни съвсем „обикновени“ - не от роман, а от истински живот; не казани с някакви специални литературни думи, но нека всеки да си го представи…
„През войната мама загубила майка си и братчето си. Накрая загубила и баща си, останала сам самичка на света.“
Ако е успокоително, че все пак родителите на Етгар са преживели Холокоста, че това вероятно е минало, за съжаление малкият Лев също расте под воя на сирените за въздушно нападение. Важното е, че си има сандвич, но дано занапред е „безшумен“. „Мяу, мяу, мяу.“
На стр. 47 от „Седем добри години“ имам може би най-ценния си автограф (с рисунчица-прегръдка-лодка) от писател, който сега ми е още по-близък – заради тази книга и всички останали. Етгар, Милена, Нева, please more. :)
„Ако писателят беше ангел, бездната, която го разделя от нас, щеше да е толкова дълбока, че той нямаше да може да ни докосва с писането си. Но тъй като писателят е тук, до нас, затънал до шия в кал и мръсотия, няма по-подходящ от него да сподели какво се случва в главата му – в озарените ѝ части и особено в мрачните ѝ кътчета.“
Помислям си първо за брата и сестрата на Етгар (като най-впечатлили ме разкази и „развръзки“). Но след това – детето, съпругата, баща му!, майка му; самият Етгар – човекът с всичко човешко, бащата, писателят, евреинът, полякът?; „котките“!, комерсиализацията, Холокоста!, войни след войни, страни след страни...
В тази (и още по-сложна) обстановка – ето го нашият главен герой:
„… седях на неудобния дървен стол в твърде горещата библиотечна зала на арт колонията и слушах за собствените си страхове, желания и дори агресията, която вечно тлее в мен, но се прикрива толкова добре, че само тя и аз знаем за нейното съществуване.“
Не мога да пропусна да отделя място за детето от „Седем добри години“.
„Синът ми Лев се оплаква, че не ме е виждал да плача. Виждал е майка си да плаче няколко пъти, особено когато му чете някоя приказка с тъжен край. Веднъж видя и баба си да плаче – на третия му рожден ден, когато ѝ каза, че си пожелава дядо му да оздравее. Дори учителката си от детската градина беше виждал да плаче, когато ѝ се обадили да ѝ съобщят, че баща ѝ е поч��нал. Само мен не ме е виждал да плача. И от това ми става неловко.“
„Ами ти? – попита Лев. – Кой ще те пази, след като дядо умря?
Не се разплаках пред Лев, а по-късно същата вечер, в самолета за Лос Анджелис.“
И пак не искам да говоря за любими разкази, но ще спомена най-спонтанно разплакалите ме, за родителите на Керет: за обувките на татко му и за мармалада в родината на майка му.
Предпочитам да не копирам най-силните за мен изречения от тези два разказа. Вместо това, едни съвсем „обикновени“ - не от роман, а от истински живот; не казани с някакви специални литературни думи, но нека всеки да си го представи…
„През войната мама загубила майка си и братчето си. Накрая загубила и баща си, останала сам самичка на света.“
Ако е успокоително, че все пак родителите на Етгар са преживели Холокоста, че това вероятно е минало, за съжаление малкият Лев също расте под воя на сирените за въздушно нападение. Важното е, че си има сандвич, но дано занапред е „безшумен“. „Мяу, мяу, мяу.“
На стр. 47 от „Седем добри години“ имам може би най-ценния си автограф (с рисунчица-прегръдка-лодка) от писател, който сега ми е още по-близък – заради тази книга и всички останали. Етгар, Милена, Нева, please more. :)
„Ако писателят беше ангел, бездната, която го разделя от нас, щеше да е толкова дълбока, че той нямаше да може да ни докосва с писането си. Но тъй като писателят е тук, до нас, затънал до шия в кал и мръсотия, няма по-подходящ от него да сподели какво се случва в главата му – в озарените ѝ части и особено в мрачните ѝ кътчета.“
February 21, 2016
Funny, sweet and insightful collection of brief essays encompassing the years between the birth of the author's son, Lev, and the death of his father. "The Seven Good Years" is an unusual memoir, with ruminations on telemarketers, the dilemma of book dedications, sibling relationships, his parents' courtship, life in Israel lived under the constant threat of war and a son who cadges sweets from his preschool cook by pretending he's a cat (my favorite):
"Meow," Lev answered in a soft, purry voice. "Meow, meow, meow."
A real gem by a great writer.
"Meow," Lev answered in a soft, purry voice. "Meow, meow, meow."
A real gem by a great writer.
September 17, 2020
Multa caldura si umor in povestirile astea. Poate pentru ca sunt autobiografice? Voi sti dupa ce voi citi si volumul de fictiune tradus la noi. Pentru ca precis il voi citi :)
July 6, 2016
A memoir is a different animal than a work of fiction. It demands a great deal of self-exposure and vulnerability from the writer without crossing the line into pathos and navel-gazing. It must, I believe, expose the author’s humanity while retaining his core essence.
Etgar Keret is a powerful writer. I was most impressed with his short-story collection, a feat of imagination titled Suddenly, A Knock on the Door. I’ve heard him speak in person and was charmed by his honesty, wryness, and authenticity despite so much absurdity in the world. Put another way, I instinctively liked Etgar Keret and sensed he was the genuine article. I wanted to find out more.
What I find in The Seven Good Years is reason to once again respect Etgar Keret’s writing. The bizarre and sometimes satirical humor is on full display: his son Lev, who makes his debut in the midst of one more senseless terrorist attack, a lamented sister who becomes Hasidic, an irrepressible father who fights cancer, a number of frequented writer workshops and readings. There are funny vignettes of Etgar Keret dodging a telemarketer who is determined to grab his attention, an unsettling talk with other parents about their toddlers eventual military service, and the befriending of cabbies with bursting bladders.
There is a sweetness of sorts in Etgar Keret’s worldview, a touch of the inane, and a generous look at the foibles of family, companion writers, passer-bys in life, and himself. What there isn’t a whole lot of is exposure. This is a memoir that could pass as fictional vignettes. I never get a deep sense of the man behind the words and often felt I was skimming the surface.
I contrast this memoir to Little Failure by Gary Shteyngart – another writer who appreciates and captures a sense of the absurd. Mr. Shteyngart achieved that rare balancing act: his memoir retained the humor that permeated his fiction while also being poignant and unflinchingly honest. When I closed the book, I had a sense of knowing the author, flaws and all. With Mr. Keret’s memoir, there are genuinely poignant and understated moments (for instance, a time when his young son Lev refuses to take shelter during an air-raid until Etgar Keret and his wife create a game of “Pastrami Sandwich”, in which they’re the bread and he lies between them), but I ended up wanting more meat, less bread.
Etgar Keret is a powerful writer. I was most impressed with his short-story collection, a feat of imagination titled Suddenly, A Knock on the Door. I’ve heard him speak in person and was charmed by his honesty, wryness, and authenticity despite so much absurdity in the world. Put another way, I instinctively liked Etgar Keret and sensed he was the genuine article. I wanted to find out more.
What I find in The Seven Good Years is reason to once again respect Etgar Keret’s writing. The bizarre and sometimes satirical humor is on full display: his son Lev, who makes his debut in the midst of one more senseless terrorist attack, a lamented sister who becomes Hasidic, an irrepressible father who fights cancer, a number of frequented writer workshops and readings. There are funny vignettes of Etgar Keret dodging a telemarketer who is determined to grab his attention, an unsettling talk with other parents about their toddlers eventual military service, and the befriending of cabbies with bursting bladders.
There is a sweetness of sorts in Etgar Keret’s worldview, a touch of the inane, and a generous look at the foibles of family, companion writers, passer-bys in life, and himself. What there isn’t a whole lot of is exposure. This is a memoir that could pass as fictional vignettes. I never get a deep sense of the man behind the words and often felt I was skimming the surface.
I contrast this memoir to Little Failure by Gary Shteyngart – another writer who appreciates and captures a sense of the absurd. Mr. Shteyngart achieved that rare balancing act: his memoir retained the humor that permeated his fiction while also being poignant and unflinchingly honest. When I closed the book, I had a sense of knowing the author, flaws and all. With Mr. Keret’s memoir, there are genuinely poignant and understated moments (for instance, a time when his young son Lev refuses to take shelter during an air-raid until Etgar Keret and his wife create a game of “Pastrami Sandwich”, in which they’re the bread and he lies between them), but I ended up wanting more meat, less bread.
April 16, 2018
Acest volum a venit ca o completare perfectă a concediului meu din Israel. Totul pare a fi scris, în cartea lui Keret, în legătură și despre Israel, totul într-un limbaj foarte precis și antrenant: înrolarea în armată (a lui sau a copilului), condițiile de război, antisemitismul întâlnit în lume, evreii religioși.
Dar, deși unele din teme pot fi considerate grave, totul este scris cu un incredibil simț al umorului, în texte scurte și penetrante, care înlănțuiesc cititorul. Este o carte de memorii, în care autorul este ironic și autoironic, în care scriitorul își descrie atât propria condiție, cât și familia, rudele, țara, mediul în care trăiește. Minunat.
Dar, deși unele din teme pot fi considerate grave, totul este scris cu un incredibil simț al umorului, în texte scurte și penetrante, care înlănțuiesc cititorul. Este o carte de memorii, în care autorul este ironic și autoironic, în care scriitorul își descrie atât propria condiție, cât și familia, rudele, țara, mediul în care trăiește. Minunat.
September 4, 2020
Parafrazując samego autora, cytującego własną, ocalałą z warszawskiego getta matkę - Keret nie jest pisarzem izraelskim. Jest pisarzem polskim na wygnaniu. Najlepsze jest to, że tym cytatem, umieszczonym w jednym z ostatnich opowiadań, autor nie zepsuł mi identycznego spostrzeżenia, które odkryłem już w pierwszych tekstach zbioru. Jego humor, lekkość i czułość z jaką pisze są fenomenalne i trafiają do mnie w sposób absolutny. W tych krótkich opowiadaniach wszystko jest w punkt.
Wspaniale jest odkryć nowego ulubionego autora, tym bardziej że to uczucie budzi się w momentalnie od pierwszych zdań książki.
"Mój starszy brat" ❤❤❤
Wspaniale jest odkryć nowego ulubionego autora, tym bardziej że to uczucie budzi się w momentalnie od pierwszych zdań książki.
"Mój starszy brat" ❤❤❤
March 21, 2018
inteligent, simpatic, autoironic și lejer.
aștept volumul de proză să se traducă.
aștept volumul de proză să se traducă.
July 27, 2015
Отдавна обичам как разказва Етгар Керет - и на хартия и на живо.
Обичам го като приятел от детинство, с когото сме седели на тротоара и сме си разказвали истории. Истории, които са звучели като небивалици, но след години осъзнаваш, че са били съвсем истински и някак си са станали и останали част, от това, което си.
"Седем добри години", както самият автор признава, е много лична книга.
В нея Керет говори за страховете, тъгите и съмненията като част от собственото си ежедневие.Диалозите и случките, в които главни герои са той и семейството му, са очарователни, забавни и умилителни.
Етгар е загрижен и обичлив баща, който се опитва да разбере и приеме лудостта на света, да го преведе на по-разбираем за сина си език. Напомня ми на героя на Роберто Бенини в "Животът е прекрасен" - усмихва се пред лицето на грозното и необяснимото, разрошва косата на Лев и му казва "Не се плаши моето момче, това е само игра, която в крайна сметка ще спечелим".
Обичам го като приятел от детинство, с когото сме седели на тротоара и сме си разказвали истории. Истории, които са звучели като небивалици, но след години осъзнаваш, че са били съвсем истински и някак си са станали и останали част, от това, което си.
"Седем добри години", както самият автор признава, е много лична книга.
В нея Керет говори за страховете, тъгите и съмненията като част от собственото си ежедневие.Диалозите и случките, в които главни герои са той и семейството му, са очарователни, забавни и умилителни.
Етгар е загрижен и обичлив баща, който се опитва да разбере и приеме лудостта на света, да го преведе на по-разбираем за сина си език. Напомня ми на героя на Роберто Бенини в "Животът е прекрасен" - усмихва се пред лицето на грозното и необяснимото, разрошва косата на Лев и му казва "Не се плаши моето момче, това е само игра, която в крайна сметка ще спечелим".
September 28, 2021
Etgar Keret'in kendine mahsus eserleri bir yana hayatını not düştüğü hatıralarını anlatma, sergileme şekli bir yana. Bu anlamda bile başarılı bir öykücü, has renkleri olan bir kalem. Herhangi bir kurgu olmamasına rağmen gayet beğendim. Etgar Kere kesinlikle "ne yazarsa okunur, kendini okutur" kategorisinde.
July 31, 2017
aku menyesal kenapa tidak membaca buku ini sejak lama dan kenapa dulu tiap lihat ini di lapak gudang tumpah ruah selalu mikir ulang mlulu. isinya superbagus!
***
sebagai orang indonesia dan muslim, saya seringkali melihat banyak saudara ((saudara)) sesama muslim dan orang indo yang mengalami banyak kesusahan ketika pergi keluar karena kedua hal tersebut. apalagi kalau namanya berbau bahasa arab.
nah, pernah gak sih terpikir kalau orang israel atau selain orang muslim dan dari indonesia, diskriminasi seperti itu tuh juga ada(?)
maksudnya gini, selama ini kita taunya kan israel jahat, musuh beberapa muslim fanatik tanpa pernah kita tau bagaimana jelasnya. nah, gimana kalau ternyata gak semua orang israel itu jahat dan ada juga orang israel yang gak suka perang dan mengharapkan perdamaian dunia?
isi buku ini adalah ''curhatan'' salah satu orang israel itu.
dan selesai membaca ini saya langsung ingat kutipan yang cukup terkenal dari harper lee. kita tidak bisa mengetahui hidup seseorang sebelum kita mulai ''berkaca'' melalui sudut pandang orang tersebut.
baca ini saya banyak ketawa dan sempat nangis juga sih. nangis karena saya merasa bodoh. soalnya sampai sekarang saya gak tau kenapa negara israel itu terus berperang hhhhhh
banyak ketawa karena selama ini saya taunya ya israel itu jahat (apalagi ditambah dapat banyak ceramah dari orang rumah). tapi saya gak pernah benar2 tau kenapa israel jahat. baca ini kayak dapat pemikiran bahwa gak semua mahluk dari israel itu jahat.
hampir semua catatan di buku ini saya suka. tapi paling suka pas tahun ke dua sampai akhir. dari bab tahun kedua itu saya banyak ketawa sambil mikir juga sambil meringis nangis ''saya harus belajar lebih banyak lagi''.
yang lebih aneh, ntah kenapa pas udah selesai baca ini saya langsung pengen nyalonin jadi RT. iya RT. pas saya ngobrol sama pak RT rumah saya katanya sih boleh. kebetulan dia selalu terpilih selama 4 periode terakhir ini karena di RT saya, isinya orangtua dan kos2an semua. jadi 70% warganya itu pendatang dan tidak punya KTP tetap. yang mau jadi RT gak ada karena warganya udah pada sepuh.
cewek tu bisa jadi RT gak sih?
random kan? random abis wqwq
buku bagus!
rekomen!
***
sebagai orang indonesia dan muslim, saya seringkali melihat banyak saudara ((saudara)) sesama muslim dan orang indo yang mengalami banyak kesusahan ketika pergi keluar karena kedua hal tersebut. apalagi kalau namanya berbau bahasa arab.
nah, pernah gak sih terpikir kalau orang israel atau selain orang muslim dan dari indonesia, diskriminasi seperti itu tuh juga ada(?)
maksudnya gini, selama ini kita taunya kan israel jahat, musuh beberapa muslim fanatik tanpa pernah kita tau bagaimana jelasnya. nah, gimana kalau ternyata gak semua orang israel itu jahat dan ada juga orang israel yang gak suka perang dan mengharapkan perdamaian dunia?
isi buku ini adalah ''curhatan'' salah satu orang israel itu.
dan selesai membaca ini saya langsung ingat kutipan yang cukup terkenal dari harper lee. kita tidak bisa mengetahui hidup seseorang sebelum kita mulai ''berkaca'' melalui sudut pandang orang tersebut.
baca ini saya banyak ketawa dan sempat nangis juga sih. nangis karena saya merasa bodoh. soalnya sampai sekarang saya gak tau kenapa negara israel itu terus berperang hhhhhh
banyak ketawa karena selama ini saya taunya ya israel itu jahat (apalagi ditambah dapat banyak ceramah dari orang rumah). tapi saya gak pernah benar2 tau kenapa israel jahat. baca ini kayak dapat pemikiran bahwa gak semua mahluk dari israel itu jahat.
hampir semua catatan di buku ini saya suka. tapi paling suka pas tahun ke dua sampai akhir. dari bab tahun kedua itu saya banyak ketawa sambil mikir juga sambil meringis nangis ''saya harus belajar lebih banyak lagi''.
yang lebih aneh, ntah kenapa pas udah selesai baca ini saya langsung pengen nyalonin jadi RT. iya RT. pas saya ngobrol sama pak RT rumah saya katanya sih boleh. kebetulan dia selalu terpilih selama 4 periode terakhir ini karena di RT saya, isinya orangtua dan kos2an semua. jadi 70% warganya itu pendatang dan tidak punya KTP tetap. yang mau jadi RT gak ada karena warganya udah pada sepuh.
cewek tu bisa jadi RT gak sih?
random kan? random abis wqwq
buku bagus!
rekomen!
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