Lies, First Person. Gail Hareven. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Gail Hareven
Издательство: Ingram
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Историческая литература
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781940953076
Скачать книгу
ection>

      

       PRAISE FOR GAIL HAREVEN

      “This contemplative inquiry into the nature of love speaks across cultures and introduces a compelling new Israeli voice to English-speaking readers.”

      —Publishers Weekly

      “Witty and compelling, [Hareven] will leave American readers . . . pining for more.”

      —Jessa Crispin, NPR

      “Sometimes one has the experience of reading a book and just falling in love with it—because it is so well written, so moving, it gets into your soul. That was my experience when I read The Confessions of Noa Weber.”

      —Ha’aretz

      “[A] masterly written and translated story. Highly recommended.”

      —Library Journal

       ALSO BY GAIL HAREVEN IN ENGLISH TRANSLATION

       The Confessions of Noa Weber

      

      Copyright © 2008 by Gail Hareven

      Worldwide translation copyright © 2008 by the Institute for the Translation of Hebrew Literature

      English translation copyright © 2015 the Institute for the Translation of Hebrew Literature

      First edition, 2015

      All rights reserved

      Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data: Available upon request.

      ISBN-13: 978-1-940953-07-6

       This translation was made possible by the Institute for the Translation of Hebrew Literature.

       This project is supported in part by an award from the National Endowment for the Arts.

       Design by N. J. Furl

      Open Letter is the University of Rochester’s nonprofit, literary translation press: Lattimore Hall 411, Box 270082, Rochester, NY 14627

       www.openletterbooks.org

      CONTENTS

       Chapter 2

       Chapter 3

       Chapter 4

       Chapter 5

       Chapter 6

       Chapter 7

       Chapter 8

       Chapter 9

       Chapter 10

       Chapter 11

       Chapter 12

       Chapter 13

       Book Two: Elisheva

       Chapter 1

       Chapter 2

       Chapter 3

       Chapter 4

       Chapter 5

       Chapter 6

       Chapter 7

       Chapter 8

       Chapter 9

       Chapter 10

       Chapter 11

       Chapter 12

       Book Three: Hitler First Person

       Chapter 1

       Chapter 2

       Chapter 3

       Chapter 4

       Chapter 5

       Chapter 6

       Chapter 7

       Chapter 8

       Chapter 9

       Chapter 10

       Chapter 11

       Book Four: One Sweet Sabbath

       Chapter 1

       Chapter 2

       Chapter 3

      LIES, FIRST PERSON

      You should never believe writers, even when they pretend to be telling the truth. Everything that’s written here is pure fiction.

      My husband urged me to make this clear at the outset if I intended to tell this story. The version he proposed was somewhat different, as a matter of fact very different, but in any case I promised him to write this introduction.

      My husband Oded is a lawyer. He adores me, our children, and our way of life; and I, who love and respect him profoundly, am ready to accept his advice. And to dispose of any doubt let me stress:

      None of the characters that appear here, myself included, are real. The first person is not my person, and the events recorded here never happened to me or to anyone I know.

      The truth is that nothing bad was done to anyone, and I did nothing bad, and I was always as quiet as a mouse.

      In short, the truth is that nothing happened at all.

      Perhaps it only could have happened.

       THE GARDEN OF EDEN AND WHAT CAME BEFORE

      First of all we have to plant the Garden of Eden, because without the Garden of Eden there is no serpent; without the boughs of the apple tree to hide in, the serpent is nothing but an eater of dirt, of no greater significance than a snail or a worm.

      Therefore, let there be a Garden of Eden!

      And in fact, why “let there be”? There was a Garden of Eden. The Garden of Eden existed. Because why shouldn’t I call what I had a “Garden of Eden”?

      Let’s begin with a Sabbath day of unutterable sweetness. The smell of figs bursting with ripeness, in the enclosed garden of the house. Clouds sift the gold of the sun through the leaves of the grapevine hanging over our heads. Oded