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March 19, 2007

Happiness in a bookstore

"I am so glad to hear that! How wonderful!”

I have just walked into Tamir Books in the German Colony. I have shopped there many times during my six months in Jerusalem: I bought a Hebrew Dictionary, a book of Hebrew verb tables, a couple of novels in English, stationary, a cd or two. The booksellers know me by now.

I have just told the manager that I would like to try to read a book in Hebrew. She looks so pleased and happy for me. It is a very nice thing to make another book lover happy. I ask if she will recommend a book that I have a fighting chance of understanding. We’re speaking in Hebrew, as we have before, so she has a sense of my comprehension level.

She pulls several novels off of the shelf. Then the other bookseller pipes in with her suggestions. They deliberate over which story I might enjoy. Which novelist uses everyday language versus more literary language? Whether it might be better for me to read something I’ve already read in English. They discuss their favorite authors. They deliberate over books that will give me some Israeli history as well.

They know this is a big decision. We need to find a book that will challenge me, but not so much that I despair and despond. Plus, it's likely to take me a long (long, long) time to read the chosen book, so it would be nice if I also enjoyed it.

Finally we come up with a book, Scapegoat, by Eli Amir. It’s a novel from the perspective of an Iraqi boy who immigrated to Israel in the 1950s. It’s a modern classic, they explain. One of the booksellers tells me her father arrived as a child from Iraq in the 1950s, so this book has special meaning for her. I'm sent on my way and told to come back to tell them how I’m managing.

I am reading chapter one now. It is very challenging, but visions of the happy, encouraging booksellers motivate me to persist. As I read, the story begins to sound familiar. I realize that I read this book in English translation, over twenty years ago, during my last long-term stay in Israel. I do not remember the details of the story, but I do have a foggy memory of the idea of the story. Those booksellers really do know what they're doing!

The Coffee Mill, one of the many coffee shops on Emek Refaim St. in the German Colony.

A very, very small synagogue in the German Colony.

A residential street in the same neighborhood.

Posted by Ilene Weismehl  at 3:47 AM | Permalink

Comments

Posted by: A Beany at May 11, 2007 12:14 PM

Posted by: Ilene Weismehl at June 3, 2007 03:05 PM

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