Bøger i Hebrew Literature Series serien

Moving from character to character, perspective to perspective, Homesick is a complex and moving portrait of parallel lives and failing love in a time of permanent war.

An unassuming, unambitious man named Motti, who owns a dog named Laika, has a good friend named Menachem. Motti and Menachem drink beer together every week, and Motti spends the rest of his time daydreaming an imaginary love story for himself and his neighbor, Ariella. Motti is the very picture of inertia, until, one night, a drunk Menachem, driving home from a bar with Motti, runs over a woman and kills her. Menachem has a wife and children, so without any fuss, Motti-who has nothing-decides to take the blame, going to prison instead of his friend . . . and finding that his life there isn't too different from his life outside. "e;Oh dear,"e; says the narrator, wondering how to tell us anything about such empty lives, "e;look at them, at all the people in this novel . . . if someone would really hug them, if someone would hold them tightly, they would fall to pieces."e;

"e;Dolly City-a city without a base, without a past, without an infrastructure. The most demented city in the world."e; In the midst of a futuristic-primitive metropolis, the accumulation of all our urban nightmares, Doctor Dolly (certified by the University of Katmandu) finds a newborn baby in a black plastic bag, and decides to become a mother. Overcome by unfamiliar maternal urges, Dolly dispenses with her private lab of rare diseases and turns all her surgical passion onto her son. Ceaselessly cutting and sewing, Dolly is the scalpel-wielding version of the all-too-familiar Jewish Mother archetype, forever operating upon her son with destructive, invasive love. In this grotesque satire of war and the defensive measures taken to survive it, Orly Castel-Bloom, one of Israel's most provocative and original writers, turns her own scalpel upon that most holy of institutions, the myth of motherhood-and its implications in the life of a nation.

When her archeologist father died, Loya Kaplan left Israel seemingly for good, severing all ties to her past. Twenty-five years later, she's a flight attendant without friends or family, happiest in the temporary and artificial world of airports. Sleepwalking through life, Loya is summoned back to Israel following the death of David-her father's friend, or rival, or lover, or nemesis?-who has named Loya as his heir. Returning now to a country that has become alien to her, and the house where she was raised, filled with relics not only of her own past but of her family and even ancient history, Loya's story splits, deliriously, in two: the life she once led in an improvised neighborhood, filled with concentration- camp refugees and secrets, colliding with the antiseptic, well-fed present day.