Artikel
Speaking about "us" and thinking about all of us
The brave artistry of Shachar Mario Mordechai
24 juni 2014
Borrowing phrases words from the liturgical verse “U-neh-ten-ah tokef” [traditionally recited on the Jewish New Year, and also used in the popular Leonard Cohen song, “Who by fire”], the poet asks, “Who by water, by thirst/ who by famine, who by beast/ who by our starvation, our humiliation/ and who/ is on our side?”
A reading of all the poems in the book […] reveals that its central question is not who’s on our side or what that side might be, but rather whether there is an “us” in whose name the poet presumes to speak, and if so, whether his attempt to do so is successful or not, and its significance to the poet and his audience.
First of all, this is a brave artistic turn at a time when most poets speak mainly about themselves. Mordechai does not depict himself as someone hurrying to place his faith in human beings. “People. When among them, I’m locked like oil in an olive” [… and] “I say no to the development of human society. Always be on your guard. Always be careful among them”.
In ‘The lovely buzz of protest,’ the poet calls on “the us” and demands that we
At launch for this book [in March 2014], Mordechai said that for him the key poem is ‘Mohammed Bouazazi’ […]. It depicts the Tunisian street vendor whose desperate act of self-immolation set off the wave of protests in his country that became the region’s Arab Spring. The speaker gives voice to the dead man:
This excellent poem is located in the opening section of the book and also on the back cover, close to the more personal ‘The One Who Doesn’t Know How to Ask’ […].
The flammable material comprising both poems is similar yet different. Like Bouazizi, the poet’s father was burned, [not by his own hand but rather] in a direct hit to an Israeli tank in the Six Day War [in 1967]. The gap between these events may explain the profound tension felt by the poet who courageously takes upon himself the role of prophet, calling on the nation to rebel against its leaders while anxious about its fate.
US/Mexico border image via Shutterstock
The title of Shachar Mario Mordechai’s third book of poetry, Who’s on Our Side? is so strange as to demand explanation. What does it mean?
When was the last time we read a poetry book whose title was a question? The title poem states that “our” applies to all inhabitants of this land, Israel, “on both sides of the line,” [the Green Line, the 1967 border]; that is, Jews and Palestinians alike, trapped in the grip of rulers the [title] poem terms “the axis of evil” […]Borrowing phrases words from the liturgical verse “U-neh-ten-ah tokef” [traditionally recited on the Jewish New Year, and also used in the popular Leonard Cohen song, “Who by fire”], the poet asks, “Who by water, by thirst/ who by famine, who by beast/ who by our starvation, our humiliation/ and who/ is on our side?”
A reading of all the poems in the book […] reveals that its central question is not who’s on our side or what that side might be, but rather whether there is an “us” in whose name the poet presumes to speak, and if so, whether his attempt to do so is successful or not, and its significance to the poet and his audience.
First of all, this is a brave artistic turn at a time when most poets speak mainly about themselves. Mordechai does not depict himself as someone hurrying to place his faith in human beings. “People. When among them, I’m locked like oil in an olive” [… and] “I say no to the development of human society. Always be on your guard. Always be careful among them”.
In ‘The lovely buzz of protest,’ the poet calls on “the us” and demands that we
stretch our necks above the city
arise now, take a breath:
we love to live.
But not this life.
No.
The land is filled with malice. Filled with much malice.
Come, let us break the bonds of the master
and outrageous inequality. [Tr. Lisa Katz]
[…]
arise now, take a breath:
we love to live.
But not this life.
No.
The land is filled with malice. Filled with much malice.
Come, let us break the bonds of the master
and outrageous inequality. [Tr. Lisa Katz]
[…]
At launch for this book [in March 2014], Mordechai said that for him the key poem is ‘Mohammed Bouazazi’ […]. It depicts the Tunisian street vendor whose desperate act of self-immolation set off the wave of protests in his country that became the region’s Arab Spring. The speaker gives voice to the dead man:
I am Mohammed Bouazizi
and even though I died
and lived in Tunisia, where I was crushed at the feet of dictators,
I am telling you
that Tunisia is a country where you can raise your head
if you want to. [Tr. by the poet]
and even though I died
and lived in Tunisia, where I was crushed at the feet of dictators,
I am telling you
that Tunisia is a country where you can raise your head
if you want to. [Tr. by the poet]
This excellent poem is located in the opening section of the book and also on the back cover, close to the more personal ‘The One Who Doesn’t Know How to Ask’ […].
The flammable material comprising both poems is similar yet different. Like Bouazizi, the poet’s father was burned, [not by his own hand but rather] in a direct hit to an Israeli tank in the Six Day War [in 1967]. The gap between these events may explain the profound tension felt by the poet who courageously takes upon himself the role of prophet, calling on the nation to rebel against its leaders while anxious about its fate.
US/Mexico border image via Shutterstock
© Ilan Berkowitz
Vertaler: Lisa Katz
Bron: Haaretz 31 March 2014
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