This memoir is in the end a rather progressive and inaccurate view of the heart of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. While true that she has spent considerable time in Israel, and much of it in Jerusalem, she fails to bring a sharp focus onto why there is such bitter turmoil surrounding this wonderful city. I have been to Israel, twice, the last time in 2015 just before the rash of stabbings she describes. It is not her imagery that is lacking, but rather her post modern world view where all the participants of the golden city seem to share equal blame for the bloodshed and lack of peace. No where does she mention the fact that most Arab, and all Palestinians, leaders refuse to recognize Israel's right to exist. In fact, they would prefer that all Jews in the country be driven into the sea.
She bemoans the fact that Arab boys are frisked too hard or beaten by Israeli soldiers, all while they could be the next stabbing perp. She never mentions the Palestinian practice of rewarding the families of dead terrorists. She equates Israeli terrorists with Arab ones so that they share equal blame in her mind. She points out that one of her son's teachers told her all Arabs were terrorists. While of course this in not true, at least Israeli schools do not teach and perpetuate the myth of Jewish blood libel, where for centuries they have been taught that Jews make Matzoh from Arabic children's blood. She never mentions that if the Palestinian leaders would only accept Israels"s right to exist there could be peace tomorrow.
All memoirs are of of course self-indulgent. However, she must have mentioned at least a dozen times during the course of the book the details of her stoning at the Damascus gate many years ago. Two or three times would have been more than enough. Her abusive relationships with at least two men also contribute nothing to the story.
I found myself about half way through this work wanting it to get better and finally just to end. She does describe in detail the many interesting characters living inside the city's quarters, but had I not visited there myself, I am not sure I would have felt and sensed the deeply religious flavors that flow there. She at least twice says she feels nothing but stone when she touches the Western, (Wailing) Wall. As a Jew I don't even know how that is possible.
She is more excited by Tinder hook-ups, hashish, and and body piercings and tattoos. Perhaps it is generational but I can't relate to these things. In the end the trouble I am having is that this book has more to do about her than about Jerusalem.
All memoirs are of of course self-indulgent. However, she must have mentioned at least a dozen times during the course of the book the details of her stoning at the Damascus gate many years ago. Two or three times would have been more than enough. Her abusive relationships with at least two men also contribute nothing to the story.
I found myself about half way through this work wanting it to get better and finally just to end. She does describe in detail the many interesting characters living inside the city's quarters, but had I not visited there myself, I am not sure I would have felt and sensed the deeply religious flavors that flow there. She at least twice says she feels nothing but stone when she touches the Western, (Wailing) Wall. As a Jew I don't even know how that is possible.
She is more excited by Tinder hook-ups, hashish, and and body piercings and tattoos. Perhaps it is generational but I can't relate to these things. In the end the trouble I am having is that this book has more to do about her than about Jerusalem.
The idea and title for the book are tantalizing and she writes well. However, I found myself not being able to wait for it to end. And that is sad.
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