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 <title>Book review</title>
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 <title>Ready, aim… best-selling scientist targeted for his ‘dangerous’ views</title>
 <link>http://www.thejc.com/arts/arts-interviews/103106/ready-aim%E2%80%A6-best-selling-scientist-targeted-his-dangerous%E2%80%99-views</link>
 <description>&lt;p&gt;I have spent less than three minutes in the company of Jared Diamond and he assures me that he does not pose a threat to my life.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“I can promise you that I have not made a move to kill you yet. Nor have I detected any move on your part to kill me. But in a traditional society both of us would have made a move to kill each other by now, or else run away,” he says solemnly. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Over a light breakfast in a hotel lounge in central London, the Pulitzer Prize-winning polymath, and popular science writer is talking about his new book The World Until Yesterday. The narrative looks at behavioural differences between human beings in tribal stateless societies, versus those living under the all-powerful bureaucratic system of the nation state. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Diamond’s argument is fairly simple: if states only came into existence 5,400 years ago, and agriculture in the last 11,000, humans have spent much of their time throughout history as wandering nomads. As modern nations are relatively new concepts, we have much to learn from traditional cultures. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Having spent the past 50 years visiting New Guinea on field research trips, Diamond, who was educated at Harvard and Cambridge, and is now professor of geography at the University of California, uses a mixture of personal anecdotes, and academic research, to prove his thesis. The ways in which traditional societies raise their children, spend their leisure time, and communicate, are often superior to normal practices in the First World, his argument goes. But his praise for the tribal lifestyle stops there. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Traditional societies do things that we disapprove of,” he explains. “Some of them abandon their elderly. Some of them kill their babies if they happen to be weak. We in the West think that is terrible. But they do it not because they are evil, but simply because they are living under a certain set of circumstances.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Diamond does not get involved in moralising. When I ask him whether human beings are bloodthirsty violent creatures, or gentle peaceful souls, he tells me, politely, that it is a pointless question. Human behaviour, he argues, is always a matter of circumstances. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;In state societies, the institutions we take for granted, such as a police force, a justice system, and a functioning democratic government, all help to minimise violence, he claims. As traditional societies lack the vast bureaucratic apparatus of the state, its people, he says, are in a chronic state of war. He gives an example to back up this claim. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Just look at the deaths caused by Germany participating in two World Wars in the 20th century. Although this was no doubt horrible, it was also averaged out in a century in which they were in no wars for 90 years. In traditional societies, without a state government to declare war, or to sign a peace treaty, wars tend to be chronic.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“In state warfare it is considered bad and evil to kill women and children. Even in Germany on the western front in World War Two — the eastern front was another matter—it was not the policy to kill women and children. But in traditional societies, it’s routine to kill women and children in war. So the outcome overall is that the death toll in traditional societies is 10 times higher than in state societies.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Diamond does stress in his chapter on war that peaceful traditional societies do exist. Yet this has failed to stop a torrent of criticism from certain reviewers, as well as from organisations like Survival International, who fight to protect tribal people’s lands and livelihood. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The campaign group’s director, Stephen Corry recently lashed out at Diamond in an article in the Observer, calling his book “completely wrong— both factually and morally— and extremely dangerous”.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Diamond responds by saying that Survival International is trying to publicise its campaign.  &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Born in Boston in 1937, Diamond looks considerably younger than his 75 years. He is the son of Jewish immigrants from the Ukraine, who fled to the United States to escapes the pogroms.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;For a man so interested in traditions, it grieves him that one in particular among Jews in America has declined — that of speaking Yiddish. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“It’s a terrible loss”, he says. “My father’s parents probably spoke Yiddish at home. That just shows the gap in the United States between immigrant parents and their children. The immigrant language is so often lost, and that is sad.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Diamond specialises in bold statements, but sometimes his arguments suffer for a lack of nuance. For example, his claim that the state always has its own interests at heart is certainly true. But it is debatable that every state “wants to preserve peace”. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Many critics have spent considerable time focusing solely on his coverage of traditional societies. But his book touches upon other subjects, where his views are fascinating, albeit less controversial. Religion is good example.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;As a non-practising Jew, Diamond says his wife still attends synagogue on the High Holy Days, while his two children chose to be barmitzvahed when they came of age. These family reasons could help explain why a rationalist atheist like Diamond affords religion such respect. It is more likely, however, that he thinks religion serves a very useful function in society.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“An evolutionary and common sense perspective would say that some societies would have abolished religion by now, that atheist societies should gain an advantage over religious societies. But this is not the case,” he says.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;If religions’ role of explaining how the natural world works has been replaced by science, Diamond argues that it can still be effective in helping humans deal with stressful situations to defuse anxiety.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“In my book I discuss an incident in 2006 during the Lebanon War where people in an Israeli town of Sfat, near the Syrian border, were being subjected to rocket attacks. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It turned out that those Israelis who were chanting Psalms, managed to defuse their anxiety and they didn’t explode in anger and do stupid things.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;We have finished our breakfast, and Diamond is getting ready for an afternoon of lectures, interviews and more publicity. No doubt he will meet his critics throughout the day, but he does not seem too bothered. After all, it is not as if he will pose a threat to their lives.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
 <category domain="http://www.thejc.com/arts/arts-interviews">Arts interviews</category>
 <category domain="http://www.thejc.com/news/topics/book-review">Book review</category>
 <category domain="http://www.thejc.com/news/topics/science">Science</category>
 <nid>103106</nid>
 <type>story</type>
 <strap>The behaviour expert says we have much to learn from traditional societies — but that hasn’t stopped critics attacking him</strap>
 <image>http://www.thejc.com/files/features.JPG</image>
 <caption>Jared Diamond with a tribesman in Papua New Guinea. The academic backs up his arguments with extensive research in the field (Photo: intellectualrevolution.tv)</caption>
 <link1>97456</link1>
 <link1_title>A Jewish Book Week to set our imaginations alight</link1_title>
 <link2>79500</link2>
 <link2_title>Chief Rabbi to debate science and faith with Dawkins</link2_title>
 <footer>‘The World Until Yesterday’ is published by Allen Lane at £20</footer>
 <body>I have spent less than three minutes in the company of Jared Diamond and he assures me that he does not pose a threat to my life.
“I can promise you that I have not made a move to kill you yet. Nor have I detected any move on your part to kill me. But in a traditional society both of us would have made a move to kill each other by now, or else run away,” he says solemnly. 
Over a light breakfast in a hotel lounge in central London, the Pulitzer Prize-winning polymath, and popular science writer is talking about his new book The World Until Yesterday. The narrative looks at behavioural differences between human beings in tribal stateless societies, versus those living under the all-powerful bureaucratic system of the nation state. 
Diamond’s argument is fairly simple: if states only came into existence 5,400 years ago, and agriculture in the last 11,000, humans have spent much of their time throughout history as wandering nomads. As modern nations are relatively new concepts, we have much to learn from traditional cultures. 
Having spent the past 50 years visiting New Guinea on field research trips, Diamond, who was educated at Harvard and Cambridge, and is now professor of geography at the University of California, uses a mixture of personal anecdotes, and academic research, to prove his thesis. The ways in which traditional societies raise their children, spend their leisure time, and communicate, are often superior to normal practices in the First World, his argument goes. But his praise for the tribal lifestyle stops there. 
“Traditional societies do things that we disapprove of,” he explains. “Some of them abandon their elderly. Some of them kill their babies if they happen to be weak. We in the West think that is terrible. But they do it not because they are evil, but simply because they are living under a certain set of circumstances.”
Diamond does not get involved in moralising. When I ask him whether human beings are bloodthirsty violent creatures, or gentle peaceful souls, he tells me, politely, that it is a pointless question. Human behaviour, he argues, is always a matter of circumstances. 
In state societies, the institutions we take for granted, such as a police force, a justice system, and a functioning democratic government, all help to minimise violence, he claims. As traditional societies lack the vast bureaucratic apparatus of the state, its people, he says, are in a chronic state of war. He gives an example to back up this claim. 
“Just look at the deaths caused by Germany participating in two World Wars in the 20th century. Although this was no doubt horrible, it was also averaged out in a century in which they were in no wars for 90 years. In traditional societies, without a state government to declare war, or to sign a peace treaty, wars tend to be chronic.
“In state warfare it is considered bad and evil to kill women and children. Even in Germany on the western front in World War Two — the eastern front was another matter—it was not the policy to kill women and children. But in traditional societies, it’s routine to kill women and children in war. So the outcome overall is that the death toll in traditional societies is 10 times higher than in state societies.”
Diamond does stress in his chapter on war that peaceful traditional societies do exist. Yet this has failed to stop a torrent of criticism from certain reviewers, as well as from organisations like Survival International, who fight to protect tribal people’s lands and livelihood. 
The campaign group’s director, Stephen Corry recently lashed out at Diamond in an article in the Observer, calling his book “completely wrong— both factually and morally— and extremely dangerous”.
Diamond responds by saying that Survival International is trying to publicise its campaign.  
Born in Boston in 1937, Diamond looks considerably younger than his 75 years. He is the son of Jewish immigrants from the Ukraine, who fled to the United States to escapes the pogroms.
For a man so interested in traditions, it grieves him that one in particular among Jews in America has declined — that of speaking Yiddish. 
“It’s a terrible loss”, he says. “My father’s parents probably spoke Yiddish at home. That just shows the gap in the United States between immigrant parents and their children. The immigrant language is so often lost, and that is sad.”
Diamond specialises in bold statements, but sometimes his arguments suffer for a lack of nuance. For example, his claim that the state always has its own interests at heart is certainly true. But it is debatable that every state “wants to preserve peace”. 
Many critics have spent considerable time focusing solely on his coverage of traditional societies. But his book touches upon other subjects, where his views are fascinating, albeit less controversial. Religion is good example.
As a non-practising Jew, Diamond says his wife still attends synagogue on the High Holy Days, while his two children chose to be barmitzvahed when they came of age. These family reasons could help explain why a rationalist atheist like Diamond affords religion such respect. It is more likely, however, that he thinks religion serves a very useful function in society.
“An evolutionary and common sense perspective would say that some societies would have abolished religion by now, that atheist societies should gain an advantage over religious societies. But this is not the case,” he says.
If religions’ role of explaining how the natural world works has been replaced by science, Diamond argues that it can still be effective in helping humans deal with stressful situations to defuse anxiety.
“In my book I discuss an incident in 2006 during the Lebanon War where people in an Israeli town of Sfat, near the Syrian border, were being subjected to rocket attacks. 
It turned out that those Israelis who were chanting Psalms, managed to defuse their anxiety and they didn’t explode in anger and do stupid things.”
We have finished our breakfast, and Diamond is getting ready for an afternoon of lectures, interviews and more publicity. No doubt he will meet his critics throughout the day, but he does not seem too bothered. After all, it is not as if he will pose a threat to their lives.</body>
 <pubDate>Fri, 08 Mar 2013 11:00:28 +0000</pubDate>
 <dc:creator />
 <guid isPermaLink="false">103106 at http://www.thejc.com</guid>
</item>
<item>
 <title>Sisters in step: feisty, funny female fighters for Israel</title>
 <link>http://www.thejc.com/arts/books/102844/sisters-step-feisty-funny-female-fighters-israel</link>
 <description>&lt;p&gt;What is it like to be a woman soldier in the Israel Defence Forces? The 25-year-old Israeli novelist Shani Boianjiu has personal experience of it, and her answer is: a mixture of boredom, fear and sexual frustration. Her three heroines, Lea, Avishag and Yael, grow up in an unnamed village near the Lebanese border, as did the author herself, and when they receive compulsory drafting, they find that the tedium of army life is not that much different to the tedium of high-school life.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It’s not the first time that an Israeli novelist has chosen the army for a fictional subject — some may recall Moshe Dayan’s daughter Yael did so decades ago — but Boianjiu’s take on it is far more modern. Her three friends narrate their experiences, dreams, rebellions and irritations in short chapters, some no more than half-a-page long, and, although their voices are so similar that they blend into one, their characters are pleasingly distinct. Lea is the bossy one, and goes to work on the West Bank checkpoint as an officer; Avishag is the melancholy one, who goes into a combat unit on the Egyptian border; Yael, the funniest, trains soldiers how to use their weapons. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Their lives are not very different from those of millions of other young women on the threshold of adulthood as they watch American TV shows, gossip, and dream about boyfriends. The difference is that they are also trained for “ABC” — attack by atomic, biological or chemical weapons. Shouted-at, half-suffocated and told not to answer back, they are lippy Jewish girls caught in a cross between Girls and M*A*S*H, except that, mostly,  the guns don’t have bullets (known as a “dry hump”). It’s a far cry from Yael’s mother’s experience, recounted at the very end, which involved the raid at Entebbe.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The story follows the girl’s lives out of high school, into the army and then into civilian life. Lea gets married, has a baby and writes successful pornographic novels; Avishag goes on to antidepressants and psychotherapy; Yael becomes a translator, and a traveller. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The first half of the novel is convincingly detailed and, as the girls’ families, friends and fantasies about the lives of others — not only Israeli boy soldiers but Palestinians, Sudanese and Egyptians — are delved into, it begins to achieve a greater depth and political resonance. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Great job! You stayed hopeful and dedicated to your goals in an environment of oppression and negativity. You should really become an activist and free some slaves,” a voice in a game tells them, with pointed irony. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Due to a lack of narrative momentum and any growth in self-knowledge or maturity, their charm wears thin. This is, however, a fresh and funny debut by an author who brings us news of life on the front line of young Israeli womanhood – even if this turns out to be not so different from that in Golders Green.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
 <category domain="http://www.thejc.com/arts/books">Books</category>
 <category domain="http://www.thejc.com/news/topics/idf">IDF</category>
 <category domain="http://www.thejc.com/news/topics/women">Women</category>
 <category domain="http://www.thejc.com/news/topics/book-review">Book review</category>
 <nid>102844</nid>
 <type>story</type>
 <strap />
 <image>http://www.thejc.com/files/Israeli women soldiers (Photo Flash 90).JPG</image>
 <caption>Ready for action: young recruits to the IDF, like ‘millions of other women’</caption>
 <link1 />
 <link1_title />
 <link2 />
 <link2_title />
 <footer>Shani  Boianjiu will be speaking at Jewish Book Week on February 26 at 5.30pm Amanda Craig’s most recent novel is ‘Hearts and Minds’ (Abacus £8.99)</footer>
 <body>What is it like to be a woman soldier in the Israel Defence Forces? The 25-year-old Israeli novelist Shani Boianjiu has personal experience of it, and her answer is: a mixture of boredom, fear and sexual frustration. Her three heroines, Lea, Avishag and Yael, grow up in an unnamed village near the Lebanese border, as did the author herself, and when they receive compulsory drafting, they find that the tedium of army life is not that much different to the tedium of high-school life.
It’s not the first time that an Israeli novelist has chosen the army for a fictional subject — some may recall Moshe Dayan’s daughter Yael did so decades ago — but Boianjiu’s take on it is far more modern. Her three friends narrate their experiences, dreams, rebellions and irritations in short chapters, some no more than half-a-page long, and, although their voices are so similar that they blend into one, their characters are pleasingly distinct. Lea is the bossy one, and goes to work on the West Bank checkpoint as an officer; Avishag is the melancholy one, who goes into a combat unit on the Egyptian border; Yael, the funniest, trains soldiers how to use their weapons. 
Their lives are not very different from those of millions of other young women on the threshold of adulthood as they watch American TV shows, gossip, and dream about boyfriends. The difference is that they are also trained for “ABC” — attack by atomic, biological or chemical weapons. Shouted-at, half-suffocated and told not to answer back, they are lippy Jewish girls caught in a cross between Girls and M*A*S*H, except that, mostly,  the guns don’t have bullets (known as a “dry hump”). It’s a far cry from Yael’s mother’s experience, recounted at the very end, which involved the raid at Entebbe.
The story follows the girl’s lives out of high school, into the army and then into civilian life. Lea gets married, has a baby and writes successful pornographic novels; Avishag goes on to antidepressants and psychotherapy; Yael becomes a translator, and a traveller. 
The first half of the novel is convincingly detailed and, as the girls’ families, friends and fantasies about the lives of others — not only Israeli boy soldiers but Palestinians, Sudanese and Egyptians — are delved into, it begins to achieve a greater depth and political resonance. 
“Great job! You stayed hopeful and dedicated to your goals in an environment of oppression and negativity. You should really become an activist and free some slaves,” a voice in a game tells them, with pointed irony. 
Due to a lack of narrative momentum and any growth in self-knowledge or maturity, their charm wears thin. This is, however, a fresh and funny debut by an author who brings us news of life on the front line of young Israeli womanhood – even if this turns out to be not so different from that in Golders Green.</body>
 <pubDate>Wed, 27 Feb 2013 15:44:47 +0000</pubDate>
 <dc:creator>Amanda Craig</dc:creator>
 <guid isPermaLink="false">102844 at http://www.thejc.com</guid>
</item>
<item>
 <title>Children’s books: Outside interests</title>
 <link>http://www.thejc.com/arts/books/97729/children%E2%80%99s-books-outside-interests</link>
 <description>&lt;p&gt;Introduce toddlers to the eco-friendly message of Tu Bishvat (January 25) with Thank You Trees, a board book by Gail Langer Karowski and Marilyn E. Gootman (Kar-Ben, £4.99). The rhymes are not exactly Dr Seuss, but Kristen Balouch’s friendly illustrations will stimulate discussion.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;In Hannah’s Way, by Linda Glaser (Kar-Ben, £5.99), Hannah is the only Jewish girl in her Minnesota school. Her class picnic is to be held two miles away, on Shabbat, so she is left out, as she cannot travel by car. But, when the teacher asks for a volunteer to walk with Hannah, the result is heartwarming on an I’m-Spartacus scale. Age three to seven.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Stormy waters and secretive villagers set the scene for North of Nowhere by Liz Kessler (Orion, £9.99). When Mia arrives to spend half-term with her grandma, she befriends local girl Dee — not in person, but by writing messages in her diary, which she finds on a boat in the harbour. Dee writes back, but something about her does not seem quite right. Age nine to 12.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Every You, Every Me by David Levithan (Random House, £5.99) was improvised around a series of photos sent to Levithan by Jonathan Farmer. The text is interactive, with extensive crossings-out that can be read or omitted, enacting the character’s internal dialogue. The reader must fathom out the back story, just as the teenage protagonist has to figure out who is sending him photos of his departed friend. Age 14 to adult.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;What if you could cure all illness and disability? And — more pressingly for “E.V.”, a patient in her mother’s sinister hospital — what if you could genetically engineer the perfect boyfriend? Eve &amp;amp; Adam by Michael Grant and Katherine Applegate, (Egmont, £6.99) is a funny-serious sci-fi thriller, for age 12 up.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;In Winter Wear by Kass Kentridge (Xlibris, £13.99), a teenager returns from the pub in somebody else’s overcoat and discovers that a diamond appears in the pocket each day. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;But the coat has a Holocaust heritage with dangerous reverberations. Forgive its flat narrative voices and occasional stylistic misjudgments; Winter Wear will grip older teen fans of time-slip adventure.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
 <category domain="http://www.thejc.com/arts/books">Books</category>
 <category domain="http://www.thejc.com/news/topics/book-review">Book review</category>
 <nid>97729</nid>
 <type>story</type>
 <strap />
 <image>http://www.thejc.com/files/Hannah&#039;s way.JPG</image>
 <caption>Hannah’s Way, by Linda Glaser</caption>
 <link1 />
 <link1_title />
 <link2 />
 <link2_title />
 <footer />
 <body>Introduce toddlers to the eco-friendly message of Tu Bishvat (January 25) with Thank You Trees, a board book by Gail Langer Karowski and Marilyn E. Gootman (Kar-Ben, £4.99). The rhymes are not exactly Dr Seuss, but Kristen Balouch’s friendly illustrations will stimulate discussion.
In Hannah’s Way, by Linda Glaser (Kar-Ben, £5.99), Hannah is the only Jewish girl in her Minnesota school. Her class picnic is to be held two miles away, on Shabbat, so she is left out, as she cannot travel by car. But, when the teacher asks for a volunteer to walk with Hannah, the result is heartwarming on an I’m-Spartacus scale. Age three to seven.
Stormy waters and secretive villagers set the scene for North of Nowhere by Liz Kessler (Orion, £9.99). When Mia arrives to spend half-term with her grandma, she befriends local girl Dee — not in person, but by writing messages in her diary, which she finds on a boat in the harbour. Dee writes back, but something about her does not seem quite right. Age nine to 12.
Every You, Every Me by David Levithan (Random House, £5.99) was improvised around a series of photos sent to Levithan by Jonathan Farmer. The text is interactive, with extensive crossings-out that can be read or omitted, enacting the character’s internal dialogue. The reader must fathom out the back story, just as the teenage protagonist has to figure out who is sending him photos of his departed friend. Age 14 to adult.
What if you could cure all illness and disability? And — more pressingly for “E.V.”, a patient in her mother’s sinister hospital — what if you could genetically engineer the perfect boyfriend? Eve &amp;amp; Adam by Michael Grant and Katherine Applegate, (Egmont, £6.99) is a funny-serious sci-fi thriller, for age 12 up.
In Winter Wear by Kass Kentridge (Xlibris, £13.99), a teenager returns from the pub in somebody else’s overcoat and discovers that a diamond appears in the pocket each day. 
But the coat has a Holocaust heritage with dangerous reverberations. Forgive its flat narrative voices and occasional stylistic misjudgments; Winter Wear will grip older teen fans of time-slip adventure.</body>
 <pubDate>Fri, 11 Jan 2013 11:51:17 +0000</pubDate>
 <dc:creator>Angela Kiverstein</dc:creator>
 <guid isPermaLink="false">97729 at http://www.thejc.com</guid>
</item>
<item>
 <title>How relationships create pain</title>
 <link>http://www.thejc.com/arts/books/97728/how-relationships-create-pain</link>
 <description>&lt;p&gt;The Misunderstanding is a meditation on the nature of unhappiness. Denise is in love with Yves who hates himself. As Denise becomes infected with a sense of self-destruction following Yves’s fall from financial grace, her urbane mother advises her to take a second suitor. She picks her raffish young cousin Jaja, who plays the ardent lover to her coy beloved. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;And of course there is Denise’s husband, Jessaint… think Bonjour Tristesse and Françoise Sagan. A cool half-century before that teenager composed her roaring best-seller came this, written when Némirovsky was only 21. Her understanding of adults’ often wilful capacity for mutual misunderstanding and self-inflicted misery is as strong as her ability to construct a meticulously poised narrative. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Dialogue and monologue, alternating with the most perceptive of narrative voices, and descriptions of Paris in the wake of the First World War, where many who somehow saved their lives lost their fortunes and the old world of the demi-monde collided with new foreign influences (and, in the bars from Montmartre to Montparnasse the Can-Can was replaced by the Charleston) are all vividly rendered. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The more surprising, then, that the author was a Russian Jew born in 1903, who survived the Revolution  to become Parisian at the age of 15. She had an eye as sharp as a needle, describing a world in looming crisis. How deep a crisis was to become plain when she was seized from her rural retreat with her husband and daughters, and taken to Auschwitz where she perished in 1942.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The one Jew in The Misunderstanding, the accountant Moses, is a minor figure. All we learn of him is that Yves, who shared his office, “envied him” (his wealth and sagacity) and pondered on being told by him: “What you’re lacking is a drop, a very tiny drop of our blood…”  &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;But then Némirovsky was a child of her class and time as well as her heritage and keen to be toute parisienne. Rather touchingly, Denise’s daughter is named “Francette” as if she were her/Némirovsky’s look to the future, a “little France” of growing beauty and stability. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;France was to prove no safer than Russia but, from the ashes, Némirovsky was able to achieve, at such a young age, an achingly powerful and gracefully mature work — a triumph of talent over adversity. And today, in Sandra Smith, Némirovsky has a worthy translator; every word is weighed as judiciously as in the beautifully crafted original.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
 <category domain="http://www.thejc.com/arts/books">Books</category>
 <category domain="http://www.thejc.com/news/topics/book-review">Book review</category>
 <nid>97728</nid>
 <type>story</type>
 <strap />
 <image>http://www.thejc.com/files/Némirovsky.JPG</image>
 <caption>Némirovsky: gracefully mature</caption>
 <link1 />
 <link1_title />
 <link2 />
 <link2_title />
 <footer>Amanda Hopkinson is a translator, lecturer and reviewer</footer>
 <body>The Misunderstanding is a meditation on the nature of unhappiness. Denise is in love with Yves who hates himself. As Denise becomes infected with a sense of self-destruction following Yves’s fall from financial grace, her urbane mother advises her to take a second suitor. She picks her raffish young cousin Jaja, who plays the ardent lover to her coy beloved. 
And of course there is Denise’s husband, Jessaint… think Bonjour Tristesse and Françoise Sagan. A cool half-century before that teenager composed her roaring best-seller came this, written when Némirovsky was only 21. Her understanding of adults’ often wilful capacity for mutual misunderstanding and self-inflicted misery is as strong as her ability to construct a meticulously poised narrative. 
Dialogue and monologue, alternating with the most perceptive of narrative voices, and descriptions of Paris in the wake of the First World War, where many who somehow saved their lives lost their fortunes and the old world of the demi-monde collided with new foreign influences (and, in the bars from Montmartre to Montparnasse the Can-Can was replaced by the Charleston) are all vividly rendered. 
The more surprising, then, that the author was a Russian Jew born in 1903, who survived the Revolution  to become Parisian at the age of 15. She had an eye as sharp as a needle, describing a world in looming crisis. How deep a crisis was to become plain when she was seized from her rural retreat with her husband and daughters, and taken to Auschwitz where she perished in 1942.
The one Jew in The Misunderstanding, the accountant Moses, is a minor figure. All we learn of him is that Yves, who shared his office, “envied him” (his wealth and sagacity) and pondered on being told by him: “What you’re lacking is a drop, a very tiny drop of our blood…”  
But then Némirovsky was a child of her class and time as well as her heritage and keen to be toute parisienne. Rather touchingly, Denise’s daughter is named “Francette” as if she were her/Némirovsky’s look to the future, a “little France” of growing beauty and stability. 
France was to prove no safer than Russia but, from the ashes, Némirovsky was able to achieve, at such a young age, an achingly powerful and gracefully mature work — a triumph of talent over adversity. And today, in Sandra Smith, Némirovsky has a worthy translator; every word is weighed as judiciously as in the beautifully crafted original.</body>
 <pubDate>Fri, 11 Jan 2013 11:43:23 +0000</pubDate>
 <dc:creator>Amanda Hopkinson</dc:creator>
 <guid isPermaLink="false">97728 at http://www.thejc.com</guid>
</item>
<item>
 <title>World as slaughterhouse</title>
 <link>http://www.thejc.com/arts/books/97727/world-slaughterhouse</link>
 <description>&lt;p&gt;A  conservative estimate of the number of victims of mass murder since the beginning of the 20th century is 83 million. Add the victims of deliberate famine and the estimated total rises to between 127 and 175 million. Whatever the correct figure, the numbers are horrific and, well into the second decade of the 21st century, governments and terrorist groups are still hard at it, enthusiastically slaughtering their fellow men, women and children. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Syria’s Bashar al-Assad is currently leading the way while, in the same region, Iran and its surrogates Hamas and Hizbollah would happily unleash a second Holocaust given half a chance.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;You won’t find Assad in Daniel Goldhagen’s meticulous investigation into the phenomenon of modern mass slaughter as Bashar got into his stride only lately but you will encounter his father, Hafez, who had 20,000-40,000 of his compatriots killed in Hama in 1982. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Goldhagen’s list of horror, his term  for which is “eliminationism”, starts with Germany’s murder of the native Herero and Nama people in South-West Africa (now Namibia), starting in 1904, and proceeds through the Turkish massacre of the Armenians in 1915, Stalin’s famines and gulags, Japanese atrocities in China, the Holocaust, the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia, and Rwanda in the 1990s, along with a few that are less well-known: British-ordered mass killings in Kenya in the 1950s, Indonesia’s extermination of communists in the 1960s. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;There are many, many more. There is one name, however, which looks out of place: Harry S Truman, who as US President ordered the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945. Goldhagen, who frequently sounds like a self-hating American, thinks Truman should have been arraigned before an international war crimes tribunal. I doubt if any of the US troops who would probably have faced the Japanese army fighting to the last man would have agreed. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Goldhagen can be prolix and repetitive in arriving at obvious conclusions: for example, the power of a few individuals to persuade an entire nation to carry out their evil commands (as described in his earlier Hitler’s Willing Executioners). He also occasionally lapses into unintelligible acadamese: “Spatially and temporally, the death march is transitory.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He is at heart a utilitarian utopian who believes that, with good-will and hard work, the world can become a better place in which mass murder will never happen again. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;In his concluding chapter, he comes up with some interesting suggestions as to how this might be achieved. The most radical is the dismantling of the UN, which he regards as a disastrous institution that has consistently failed to stop any of the massacres that have disfigured the postwar era. Goldhagen believes it to be hamstrung by its majority of non-democratic members, who have no interest in reining in their barbarous chums. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He proposes instead a new Democratic United Nations, consisting of proper democracies who would take a much tougher line than the UN with murderous tyrants like Assad, setting up an early-warning system to sniff out likely atrocities before they can take place (the signs are usually there well in advance) and taking prompt and decisive action in defence of human life. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;This is unlikely to happen any time soon, but the hideous death toll of innocent lives over the past century surely places an obligation on us to make such thinking a priority.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
 <category domain="http://www.thejc.com/arts/books">Books</category>
 <category domain="http://www.thejc.com/news/topics/book-review">Book review</category>
 <nid>97727</nid>
 <type>story</type>
 <strap>In his study of mass murder and genocide, Daniel Jonah Goldhagen calls for an overhaul of the UN</strap>
 <image>http://www.thejc.com/files/Syria (Reuters).JPG</image>
 <caption>A father’s distress after the death of two of his children as a result of shelling in Aleppo, Syria, last week (Photo: Reuters)</caption>
 <link1 />
 <link1_title />
 <link2 />
 <link2_title />
 <footer>Robert Low is consultant editor, Standpoint magazine</footer>
 <body>A  conservative estimate of the number of victims of mass murder since the beginning of the 20th century is 83 million. Add the victims of deliberate famine and the estimated total rises to between 127 and 175 million. Whatever the correct figure, the numbers are horrific and, well into the second decade of the 21st century, governments and terrorist groups are still hard at it, enthusiastically slaughtering their fellow men, women and children. 
Syria’s Bashar al-Assad is currently leading the way while, in the same region, Iran and its surrogates Hamas and Hizbollah would happily unleash a second Holocaust given half a chance.
You won’t find Assad in Daniel Goldhagen’s meticulous investigation into the phenomenon of modern mass slaughter as Bashar got into his stride only lately but you will encounter his father, Hafez, who had 20,000-40,000 of his compatriots killed in Hama in 1982. 
Goldhagen’s list of horror, his term  for which is “eliminationism”, starts with Germany’s murder of the native Herero and Nama people in South-West Africa (now Namibia), starting in 1904, and proceeds through the Turkish massacre of the Armenians in 1915, Stalin’s famines and gulags, Japanese atrocities in China, the Holocaust, the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia, and Rwanda in the 1990s, along with a few that are less well-known: British-ordered mass killings in Kenya in the 1950s, Indonesia’s extermination of communists in the 1960s. 
There are many, many more. There is one name, however, which looks out of place: Harry S Truman, who as US President ordered the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945. Goldhagen, who frequently sounds like a self-hating American, thinks Truman should have been arraigned before an international war crimes tribunal. I doubt if any of the US troops who would probably have faced the Japanese army fighting to the last man would have agreed. 
Goldhagen can be prolix and repetitive in arriving at obvious conclusions: for example, the power of a few individuals to persuade an entire nation to carry out their evil commands (as described in his earlier Hitler’s Willing Executioners). He also occasionally lapses into unintelligible acadamese: “Spatially and temporally, the death march is transitory.”
He is at heart a utilitarian utopian who believes that, with good-will and hard work, the world can become a better place in which mass murder will never happen again. 
In his concluding chapter, he comes up with some interesting suggestions as to how this might be achieved. The most radical is the dismantling of the UN, which he regards as a disastrous institution that has consistently failed to stop any of the massacres that have disfigured the postwar era. Goldhagen believes it to be hamstrung by its majority of non-democratic members, who have no interest in reining in their barbarous chums. 
He proposes instead a new Democratic United Nations, consisting of proper democracies who would take a much tougher line than the UN with murderous tyrants like Assad, setting up an early-warning system to sniff out likely atrocities before they can take place (the signs are usually there well in advance) and taking prompt and decisive action in defence of human life. 
This is unlikely to happen any time soon, but the hideous death toll of innocent lives over the past century surely places an obligation on us to make such thinking a priority.</body>
 <pubDate>Fri, 11 Jan 2013 11:29:48 +0000</pubDate>
 <dc:creator />
 <guid isPermaLink="false">97727 at http://www.thejc.com</guid>
</item>
<item>
 <title>How to get ahead in the media, like Eliane Glaser</title>
 <link>http://www.thejc.com/arts/books/74688/how-get-ahead-media-eliane-glaser</link>
 <description>&lt;p&gt;Memo to any bright, ambitious, young person keen to make their way in the “meeja”. First, pick a topic ripe for easy demolition, such as the way in which TV, the press, PR, advertising, politics and big business all use spin, persuasion and distorted reality to influence our lives:&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Second, write a book fearlessly exposing the way in which TV, advertising, politics, big business, etc have distorted reality and created a dumbed-down world of phoney illusion. Give it a snappy, tell-it-like-it-is title. Get Real: How to tell it like it is in a world of illusions by Eliane Glaser (Fourth Estate, £14.99) is a great start.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Third, affect a folksy style to “relate” to your readers and not put them off by appearing too highbrow.&lt;br /&gt;
Phrases like “kinda helps”, “Marx was cool again” or “zone out” show your common touch, but name-drop modish theorists like Lacan, Althusser or Derrida and give a brisk tutorial in their ideas, to prove you’re an intellectual heavyweight.  &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Liberally sprinkle your text with media jargon like “false consciousness”, “nudge politics” and “democratic deficit” to demonstrate how   au courant you are, and provide helpful, potted descriptions of all the thinkers you quote, such as “the German philosopher Immanuel Kant” or “the psychologist and social theorist Erich Fromm”.    &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Fourth, take pot shots at the political left and right alike and bemoan the lack of any clear-cut ideologies in the modern world; reiterate your impartial disapproval of cant and hypocrisy from whatever source.&lt;br /&gt;
Intimate that your own sympathies are humanitarian and radical but don’t give too much away, because that might detract from your stance as clear-eyed champion of the people.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;And, finally, having scourged politics, advertising, multinational companies and the communications industry for their deceits and deliberate falsities, proclaim your own credo: that safe old standby, saving the planet from ecological disaster.  &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Nobody could object to that and your future in the media should be assured, as I hope it is for Eliane Glaser. &lt;/p&gt;</description>
 <category domain="http://www.thejc.com/arts/books">Books</category>
 <category domain="http://www.thejc.com/news/topics/book-review">Book review</category>
 <nid>74688</nid>
 <type>story</type>
 <strap />
 <image />
 <caption />
 <link1 />
 <link1_title />
 <link2 />
 <link2_title />
 <footer>David J Goldberg’s most recent book is ‘Jews, Judaism and Israel’ (Faber &amp;amp; Faber)</footer>
 <body>Memo to any bright, ambitious, young person keen to make their way in the “meeja”. First, pick a topic ripe for easy demolition, such as the way in which TV, the press, PR, advertising, politics and big business all use spin, persuasion and distorted reality to influence our lives:
Second, write a book fearlessly exposing the way in which TV, advertising, politics, big business, etc have distorted reality and created a dumbed-down world of phoney illusion. Give it a snappy, tell-it-like-it-is title. Get Real: How to tell it like it is in a world of illusions by Eliane Glaser (Fourth Estate, £14.99) is a great start.
Third, affect a folksy style to “relate” to your readers and not put them off by appearing too highbrow.
Phrases like “kinda helps”, “Marx was cool again” or “zone out” show your common touch, but name-drop modish theorists like Lacan, Althusser or Derrida and give a brisk tutorial in their ideas, to prove you’re an intellectual heavyweight.  
Liberally sprinkle your text with media jargon like “false consciousness”, “nudge politics” and “democratic deficit” to demonstrate how   au courant you are, and provide helpful, potted descriptions of all the thinkers you quote, such as “the German philosopher Immanuel Kant” or “the psychologist and social theorist Erich Fromm”.    
Fourth, take pot shots at the political left and right alike and bemoan the lack of any clear-cut ideologies in the modern world; reiterate your impartial disapproval of cant and hypocrisy from whatever source.
Intimate that your own sympathies are humanitarian and radical but don’t give too much away, because that might detract from your stance as clear-eyed champion of the people.
And, finally, having scourged politics, advertising, multinational companies and the communications industry for their deceits and deliberate falsities, proclaim your own credo: that safe old standby, saving the planet from ecological disaster.  
Nobody could object to that and your future in the media should be assured, as I hope it is for Eliane Glaser. </body>
 <pubDate>Thu, 23 Aug 2012 13:34:22 +0100</pubDate>
 <dc:creator />
 <guid isPermaLink="false">74688 at http://www.thejc.com</guid>
</item>
<item>
 <title>Moshe Dayan: From bed to battlefield</title>
 <link>http://www.thejc.com/arts/books/74686/moshe-dayan-from-bed-battlefield</link>
 <description>&lt;p&gt;I first heard Moshe Dayan’s name when I was nine. It was June 1 1967. Israel was surrounded by Arab armies poised to attack. And it was my birthday. My dad gave me a big hug and said: “Son, the state of Israel has given you a birthday present — they’ve just nominated Moshe Dayan to the post of Defence Minister!” &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I, of course, wanted a toy but when my dad showed me the Davar newspaper with a picture of a man with a black eye-patch who looked like a pirate, I was happy. I knew pirates always win wars. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I came across him again when I was a little older and, like many of my friends, read Cholot Lohatim (“Burning Sands”). Its author, an attractive female journalist called Hadasa Mor, was one of Dayan’s mistresses, and she described her affair with him in this thinly disguised autobiographical novel. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Years later, a journalist friend of mine told me how he once approached the reclusive Dayan, saying: “it must be you, Mr Dayan — the hero in Mor’s book”. Dayan replied: “Young man, it’s ok to have as many affairs as you want, but never with a lady who knows how to write”. His attitude was always: “the citizens of Israel have voted for me as their minister, not as the husband of the year”.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Like Ariel Sharon, another controversial hero, the story of Moshe Dayan, as Mordechai Bar-On, his former IDF bureau chief, observes, is “the story of the state of Israel” — and first and foremost a story of its wars, in which Dayan played such a leading part, though his important role in forging peace with Egypt in the late 1970s as Israel’s Foreign Minister is also described here.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Bar-On takes us through Dayan’s childhood in Palestine working the land, always on guard for Arab reprisals against the Zionist project; his role in the Haganah, the underground Jewish militia in British-ruled Palestine, where he proved himself a fearless and original, if reckless, military planner; and how he lost his eye during a military battle in Syria in 1941 when a bullet struck the left lens of a pair of binoculars he was using. Dayan continued to suffer horrific headaches, as doctors had failed to clear the debris from his skull.&lt;br /&gt;
Then come the other conflicts: Israel’s 1948 War of Independence; the 1956 Sinai Campaign that Dayan planned; his role as Defence Minister in the great six-day victory over the Arabs in 1967; and, finally, again as Defence Minister, his part in the 1973 Yom Kippur war, which saw Israel being taken by surprise and put an end to his being regarded as Israel’s “Mr Security”.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;In assessing Dayan’s legacy more than 30 years after his death from cancer, Bar-On observes that the man remains, “a controversial figure”, a view that is likely to remain the prevailing one for years to come.&lt;br /&gt;
Moshe Dayan is irresistible to biographers as he not only played such a prominent role in the history of his nation, but was also a complex personality. Bar-On does offer the occasional criticism of his man, but admits to being “captivated by Dayan’s charm” and, overall, this is a sympathetic portrait. It is also a delightful read.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
 <category domain="http://www.thejc.com/arts/books">Books</category>
 <category domain="http://www.thejc.com/news/topics/book-review">Book review</category>
 <nid>74686</nid>
 <type>story</type>
 <strap>A new biography of Israel’s most swashbuckling soldier-statesman happily succumbs to his charm</strap>
 <image>http://www.thejc.com/files/Dayan.jpg</image>
 <caption>Moshe Dayan with his troops</caption>
 <link1 />
 <link1_title />
 <link2>611</link2>
 <link2_title>An eyewitness account by Moshe Dayan&#039;s daughter</link2_title>
 <footer>Ahron Bregman is the author of ‘Israel’s Wars’. He teachers at the department of War Studies, King’s College London</footer>
 <body>I first heard Moshe Dayan’s name when I was nine. It was June 1 1967. Israel was surrounded by Arab armies poised to attack. And it was my birthday. My dad gave me a big hug and said: “Son, the state of Israel has given you a birthday present — they’ve just nominated Moshe Dayan to the post of Defence Minister!” 
I, of course, wanted a toy but when my dad showed me the Davar newspaper with a picture of a man with a black eye-patch who looked like a pirate, I was happy. I knew pirates always win wars. 
I came across him again when I was a little older and, like many of my friends, read Cholot Lohatim (“Burning Sands”). Its author, an attractive female journalist called Hadasa Mor, was one of Dayan’s mistresses, and she described her affair with him in this thinly disguised autobiographical novel. 
Years later, a journalist friend of mine told me how he once approached the reclusive Dayan, saying: “it must be you, Mr Dayan — the hero in Mor’s book”. Dayan replied: “Young man, it’s ok to have as many affairs as you want, but never with a lady who knows how to write”. His attitude was always: “the citizens of Israel have voted for me as their minister, not as the husband of the year”.
Like Ariel Sharon, another controversial hero, the story of Moshe Dayan, as Mordechai Bar-On, his former IDF bureau chief, observes, is “the story of the state of Israel” — and first and foremost a story of its wars, in which Dayan played such a leading part, though his important role in forging peace with Egypt in the late 1970s as Israel’s Foreign Minister is also described here.
Bar-On takes us through Dayan’s childhood in Palestine working the land, always on guard for Arab reprisals against the Zionist project; his role in the Haganah, the underground Jewish militia in British-ruled Palestine, where he proved himself a fearless and original, if reckless, military planner; and how he lost his eye during a military battle in Syria in 1941 when a bullet struck the left lens of a pair of binoculars he was using. Dayan continued to suffer horrific headaches, as doctors had failed to clear the debris from his skull.
Then come the other conflicts: Israel’s 1948 War of Independence; the 1956 Sinai Campaign that Dayan planned; his role as Defence Minister in the great six-day victory over the Arabs in 1967; and, finally, again as Defence Minister, his part in the 1973 Yom Kippur war, which saw Israel being taken by surprise and put an end to his being regarded as Israel’s “Mr Security”.
In assessing Dayan’s legacy more than 30 years after his death from cancer, Bar-On observes that the man remains, “a controversial figure”, a view that is likely to remain the prevailing one for years to come.
Moshe Dayan is irresistible to biographers as he not only played such a prominent role in the history of his nation, but was also a complex personality. Bar-On does offer the occasional criticism of his man, but admits to being “captivated by Dayan’s charm” and, overall, this is a sympathetic portrait. It is also a delightful read.</body>
 <pubDate>Thu, 23 Aug 2012 13:26:35 +0100</pubDate>
 <dc:creator>Ahron Bregman</dc:creator>
 <guid isPermaLink="false">74686 at http://www.thejc.com</guid>
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<item>
 <title>Will Self&#039;s modernist mental surgery</title>
 <link>http://www.thejc.com/arts/books/74682/will-selfs-modernist-mental-surgery</link>
 <description>&lt;p&gt;If it’s true that all literature is about death, then Will Self’s new Man Booker-longlisted homage to the modernist novel is exemplary. It is all about Death, specifically Audrey Death, a victim of encephalitis lethargia, or “sleeping sickness”. This brain disease swept across Europe in the wake of the First World War, killing a third of its victims and leaving another third stuck for decades in mental institutions in a state of permanent mental inertia, “not dead but hibernating and growing more and more desiccated with the years”.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Umbrella interweaves three chronological strands. The first features Audrey, a worker in the munitions factory at Woolwich Arsenal. The second, set over 50 years later, is about Zachary Busner, a restless and determined Jewish doctor. He becomes fascinated by Audrey and her fellow “enkies” incarcerated in a hospital in Friern Barnet, and administers a special new drug to try and wake them from their slumber. Finally, the book flashes forward to the present day, where the ageing Dr Busner travels across the familiar landscape of suburban north London recalling the strange events of 40 years ago.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Self has expressed his disdain for traditional, naturalistic novels, with their conventional chronologies and attempts to recreate human dialogue. “The world is really strange,” he said in a recent interview. “It’s not to be explained by ‘He went to the pub’. You can create a very fine entertainment, but you can’t reach any closer to any kind of truth about what it is to exist.” &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;If this sort of pronouncement on the human condition makes you want to reach for the nearest copy of 50 Shades of Grey, then this is not the book for you. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Self splices together the three separate time zones, moving between them without the slightest indication (the book eschews paragraphs) other than a subtle shift in character and tone. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Umbrella is at once a First World War novel and a book about time travel, illness and memory. It also demonstrates Self’s difficult relationship with Judaism. His references to “bearded weirdos” with their “legalistic mumbling” and the “chopped livery” odour of Dr Marcus add little, and demonstrate an apparently deep-seated need for Self to reserve his pen’s most potent poison for the religion of his birth.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The subversive structure often renders the book exhaustingly incoherent as it jumps across time zones. However, for readers with the determination to persevere, this meandering tale will leave a powerful, unsettling impression of an existence eked out in the darker recesses of the human mind.&lt;/p&gt;</description>
 <category domain="http://www.thejc.com/arts/books">Books</category>
 <category domain="http://www.thejc.com/news/topics/book-review">Book review</category>
 <nid>74682</nid>
 <type>story</type>
 <strap />
 <image>http://www.thejc.com/files/Will Self.jpg</image>
 <caption>Will Self: biting prose</caption>
 <link1 />
 <link1_title />
 <link2 />
 <link2_title />
 <footer>Josh Glancy is a ‘Sunday Times’ journalist</footer>
 <body>If it’s true that all literature is about death, then Will Self’s new Man Booker-longlisted homage to the modernist novel is exemplary. It is all about Death, specifically Audrey Death, a victim of encephalitis lethargia, or “sleeping sickness”. This brain disease swept across Europe in the wake of the First World War, killing a third of its victims and leaving another third stuck for decades in mental institutions in a state of permanent mental inertia, “not dead but hibernating and growing more and more desiccated with the years”.
Umbrella interweaves three chronological strands. The first features Audrey, a worker in the munitions factory at Woolwich Arsenal. The second, set over 50 years later, is about Zachary Busner, a restless and determined Jewish doctor. He becomes fascinated by Audrey and her fellow “enkies” incarcerated in a hospital in Friern Barnet, and administers a special new drug to try and wake them from their slumber. Finally, the book flashes forward to the present day, where the ageing Dr Busner travels across the familiar landscape of suburban north London recalling the strange events of 40 years ago.
Self has expressed his disdain for traditional, naturalistic novels, with their conventional chronologies and attempts to recreate human dialogue. “The world is really strange,” he said in a recent interview. “It’s not to be explained by ‘He went to the pub’. You can create a very fine entertainment, but you can’t reach any closer to any kind of truth about what it is to exist.” 
If this sort of pronouncement on the human condition makes you want to reach for the nearest copy of 50 Shades of Grey, then this is not the book for you. 
Self splices together the three separate time zones, moving between them without the slightest indication (the book eschews paragraphs) other than a subtle shift in character and tone. 
Umbrella is at once a First World War novel and a book about time travel, illness and memory. It also demonstrates Self’s difficult relationship with Judaism. His references to “bearded weirdos” with their “legalistic mumbling” and the “chopped livery” odour of Dr Marcus add little, and demonstrate an apparently deep-seated need for Self to reserve his pen’s most potent poison for the religion of his birth.
The subversive structure often renders the book exhaustingly incoherent as it jumps across time zones. However, for readers with the determination to persevere, this meandering tale will leave a powerful, unsettling impression of an existence eked out in the darker recesses of the human mind.</body>
 <pubDate>Thu, 23 Aug 2012 13:15:33 +0100</pubDate>
 <dc:creator>Josh Glancy</dc:creator>
 <guid isPermaLink="false">74682 at http://www.thejc.com</guid>
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<item>
 <title>Richard Ford&#039;s North America exposure</title>
 <link>http://www.thejc.com/arts/books/73244/richard-fords-north-america-exposure</link>
 <description>&lt;p&gt;Richard Ford is one of America’s leading writers, best known for The Sportswriter (1986). Born in Mississippi, he has a dark sense of life in modern America, but none of his previous novels are as dark as Canada, which, the first sentence tells us, is a story of robbery and murders. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The narrator, Dell Parsons, is a retired professor, looking back on events in 1960 that changed his life. He was then living in rural Montana, with his parents: Bev, from Alabama, recently discharged from the Air Force and unable to find his feet; and Neeva, Bev’s Jewish wife, who has drifted away from her family, immigrants from Poland. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Dell watches events unfold with the unblinking eye of some of the great American child narrators. In its tone, describing shocking happenings in rural, small-town America, in a strangely detached way, the book reaches back to Mark Twain and Harper Lee. It is hard to imagine a less Jewish world than Great Falls, Montana and later the borderlands of western Canada, and yet Neeva’s struggle to belong is typical of a novel about outsiders trying to find an identity in an unwelcoming world.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Dell’s parents somehow never fit in. His mother, in particular, is a complete outsider. Even her “unruly brown hair” is a problem. “My father,” Dell tells us, “jokingly said people where he came from in Alabama called her hair ‘Jew hair’ or ‘immigrant hair’.” This is typical of Ford’s style. Disturbing information constantly told in this quiet, matter-of-fact way. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The novel is in three parts. The first tells the story of Dell’s parents and how they became bank robbers, an unlikely post-war version of Bonnie and Clyde. The second follows Dell after the robbery and is about the promised murders, and the novel concludes with Dell looking back over 50 years.&lt;br /&gt;
The theme of Neeva’s Jewishness seems to drift away, like so much else in Canada. Nothing and no one is rooted or feels permanent. Everything is on the move, with nothing to hold it in place. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;People, jobs, families, all come and go. It is never clear what holds Dell’s parents together. He is charming but feckless, she is college-educated, a teacher and very private writer, painfully aware that she has ended up in the wrong place. But, Dell/Ford asks us: What would be the right place for her — or, indeed, for anyone in the novel? &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Canada itself is more a metaphor than a place. It comes to stand for our ability to change (or not), whether we can escape from our past and whether there is anything fixed or secure in our lives. Curiously, this least Jewish of books by one of America’s least Jewish writers, turns out to confront some of the most fascinating Jewish themes.  &lt;/p&gt;</description>
 <category domain="http://www.thejc.com/arts/books">Books</category>
 <category domain="http://www.thejc.com/news/topics/book-review">Book review</category>
 <nid>73244</nid>
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 <strap>A haunting, epic tale of rootlessness that carries a surprising and subtle Jewish resonance</strap>
 <image>http://www.thejc.com/files/Richard.jpg</image>
 <caption>Richard Ford</caption>
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 <footer>David Herman is the JC’s chief fiction reviewer </footer>
 <body>Richard Ford is one of America’s leading writers, best known for The Sportswriter (1986). Born in Mississippi, he has a dark sense of life in modern America, but none of his previous novels are as dark as Canada, which, the first sentence tells us, is a story of robbery and murders. 
The narrator, Dell Parsons, is a retired professor, looking back on events in 1960 that changed his life. He was then living in rural Montana, with his parents: Bev, from Alabama, recently discharged from the Air Force and unable to find his feet; and Neeva, Bev’s Jewish wife, who has drifted away from her family, immigrants from Poland. 
Dell watches events unfold with the unblinking eye of some of the great American child narrators. In its tone, describing shocking happenings in rural, small-town America, in a strangely detached way, the book reaches back to Mark Twain and Harper Lee. It is hard to imagine a less Jewish world than Great Falls, Montana and later the borderlands of western Canada, and yet Neeva’s struggle to belong is typical of a novel about outsiders trying to find an identity in an unwelcoming world.
Dell’s parents somehow never fit in. His mother, in particular, is a complete outsider. Even her “unruly brown hair” is a problem. “My father,” Dell tells us, “jokingly said people where he came from in Alabama called her hair ‘Jew hair’ or ‘immigrant hair’.” This is typical of Ford’s style. Disturbing information constantly told in this quiet, matter-of-fact way. 
The novel is in three parts. The first tells the story of Dell’s parents and how they became bank robbers, an unlikely post-war version of Bonnie and Clyde. The second follows Dell after the robbery and is about the promised murders, and the novel concludes with Dell looking back over 50 years.
The theme of Neeva’s Jewishness seems to drift away, like so much else in Canada. Nothing and no one is rooted or feels permanent. Everything is on the move, with nothing to hold it in place. 
People, jobs, families, all come and go. It is never clear what holds Dell’s parents together. He is charming but feckless, she is college-educated, a teacher and very private writer, painfully aware that she has ended up in the wrong place. But, Dell/Ford asks us: What would be the right place for her — or, indeed, for anyone in the novel? 
Canada itself is more a metaphor than a place. It comes to stand for our ability to change (or not), whether we can escape from our past and whether there is anything fixed or secure in our lives. Curiously, this least Jewish of books by one of America’s least Jewish writers, turns out to confront some of the most fascinating Jewish themes.  </body>
 <pubDate>Fri, 17 Aug 2012 10:56:26 +0100</pubDate>
 <dc:creator>David Herman</dc:creator>
 <guid isPermaLink="false">73244 at http://www.thejc.com</guid>
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<item>
 <title>Alice Herz-Sommer: the pianist who&#039;s a true survivor</title>
 <link>http://www.thejc.com/arts/books/67929/alice-herz-sommer-pianist-whos-a-true-survivor</link>
 <description>&lt;p&gt;Alice Herz-Sommer is 108 years old. She is a true survivor of the 20th century. Having journeyed from the peak of Germanic culture in the salons of Prague and Vienna through its depraved depths in the concentration camp of Theresienstadt and on to its rejuvenation in the most unexpected of all places, Israel, and latterly London, Alice has traversed the scope of humanity possibly more than any other person before her. Even her great hero, Stefan Zweig, could not withstand such a journey and took his own life in the chaos of Brazil.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Yet Alice, a pianist of outstanding accomplishment, remains supremely optimistic. It is therefore not a surprise that her life has attracted a great deal of attention. She had been the subject of numerous documentaries and at least one book before the emergence of this new title. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Understandably, therefore, Caroline Stoessinger has attempted to take a different approach. She set out to learn a personal lesson from Alice’s life: how to summon up the strength and stamina to carry on living in spite of whatever life throws at you. In many respects, that is indeed the essence of Alice’s remarkable resilience but as to where it comes from, the book does not really offer an answer.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Much of the book is a rehashing of what has already been written about Alice Herz-Sommer’s life. Where it deviates from this familiar narrative, Stoessinger seems to have relied heavily on artistic licence. That a story she relates about Alice and Golda Meir, for instance, is an invention could be ratified by checking with the still active Alice. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;As a long-standing friend of Alice’s, I found myself having to suspend disbelief in order to continue through many of the book’s more gushing passages. Certainly she has met a great many people during her long life but would surely be shocked by the impression given by Stoessinger’s account that she somehow has a connection to today’s obsession with celebrity. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It is tempting to cite Alice’s love of music as the key driving force behind her fortitude and longevity. However, there were many people who loved music passionately but perished in the camps or succumbed to their own personal tragedies. While it is true that musicians often enjoy longevity — and quite understandably given that playing and memorising music keeps the brain active — it is surely the famously indefatigable Herz-Sommer optimism and belief that life is always worth living that has kept her thriving over so many years.&lt;br /&gt;
Stoessinger’s adulatory tone does not allow her to deal with, for example, her subject’s impatience with people whom she regards as being outside, or unfamiliar with, European culture. Herz-Sommer is by no means a snob and would never treat people who do not conform to her notion of intellect in a way other than respectful but she would rather not spend too much time with them. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;As a result of her immersion in the continental scene, the dualism between mind and matter — as well as the related distinction between appearance and substance — has always been quite dominant in Alice’s thinking. Her unwavering belief in humanity stems from her admiration of what she sees as its essence rather than its appearance. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Human intellectual achievements in music, science, literature, art and philosophy help her to understand and even forgive many of humanity’s sins. At the same time, the aspiration to attach herself to such achievements beyond her own in music is what constitutes her love of life and the desire to continue as long as possible to celebrate the beauty of the human spirit.&lt;br /&gt;
So if there are lessons to be drawn from Herz-Sommer’s life, or her wisdom, they go far deeper than her admittedly endearing personality. &lt;/p&gt;</description>
 <category domain="http://www.thejc.com/arts/books">Books</category>
 <category domain="http://www.thejc.com/news/topics/music-0">Music</category>
 <category domain="http://www.thejc.com/news/topics/book-review">Book review</category>
 <nid>67929</nid>
 <type>story</type>
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 <image>http://www.thejc.com/files/Alice.jpg</image>
 <caption />
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 <footer>Amos Witztum teaches at the London School of Economics</footer>
 <body>Alice Herz-Sommer is 108 years old. She is a true survivor of the 20th century. Having journeyed from the peak of Germanic culture in the salons of Prague and Vienna through its depraved depths in the concentration camp of Theresienstadt and on to its rejuvenation in the most unexpected of all places, Israel, and latterly London, Alice has traversed the scope of humanity possibly more than any other person before her. Even her great hero, Stefan Zweig, could not withstand such a journey and took his own life in the chaos of Brazil.
Yet Alice, a pianist of outstanding accomplishment, remains supremely optimistic. It is therefore not a surprise that her life has attracted a great deal of attention. She had been the subject of numerous documentaries and at least one book before the emergence of this new title. 
Understandably, therefore, Caroline Stoessinger has attempted to take a different approach. She set out to learn a personal lesson from Alice’s life: how to summon up the strength and stamina to carry on living in spite of whatever life throws at you. In many respects, that is indeed the essence of Alice’s remarkable resilience but as to where it comes from, the book does not really offer an answer.
Much of the book is a rehashing of what has already been written about Alice Herz-Sommer’s life. Where it deviates from this familiar narrative, Stoessinger seems to have relied heavily on artistic licence. That a story she relates about Alice and Golda Meir, for instance, is an invention could be ratified by checking with the still active Alice. 
As a long-standing friend of Alice’s, I found myself having to suspend disbelief in order to continue through many of the book’s more gushing passages. Certainly she has met a great many people during her long life but would surely be shocked by the impression given by Stoessinger’s account that she somehow has a connection to today’s obsession with celebrity. 
It is tempting to cite Alice’s love of music as the key driving force behind her fortitude and longevity. However, there were many people who loved music passionately but perished in the camps or succumbed to their own personal tragedies. While it is true that musicians often enjoy longevity — and quite understandably given that playing and memorising music keeps the brain active — it is surely the famously indefatigable Herz-Sommer optimism and belief that life is always worth living that has kept her thriving over so many years.
Stoessinger’s adulatory tone does not allow her to deal with, for example, her subject’s impatience with people whom she regards as being outside, or unfamiliar with, European culture. Herz-Sommer is by no means a snob and would never treat people who do not conform to her notion of intellect in a way other than respectful but she would rather not spend too much time with them. 
As a result of her immersion in the continental scene, the dualism between mind and matter — as well as the related distinction between appearance and substance — has always been quite dominant in Alice’s thinking. Her unwavering belief in humanity stems from her admiration of what she sees as its essence rather than its appearance. 
Human intellectual achievements in music, science, literature, art and philosophy help her to understand and even forgive many of humanity’s sins. At the same time, the aspiration to attach herself to such achievements beyond her own in music is what constitutes her love of life and the desire to continue as long as possible to celebrate the beauty of the human spirit.
So if there are lessons to be drawn from Herz-Sommer’s life, or her wisdom, they go far deeper than her admittedly endearing personality. </body>
 <pubDate>Tue, 22 May 2012 10:36:26 +0100</pubDate>
 <dc:creator>Alan Montague</dc:creator>
 <guid isPermaLink="false">67929 at http://www.thejc.com</guid>
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