Judas

Praise for Between Friends: Winner, National Jewish Book Award for Fiction "Written in deliberately unadorned prose (beautifully translated by Sondra Silverston), [Between Friends] lays bare the deepest human longings."—Chicago Tribune "The mind is a place Oz explores masterfully in all its contradiction, texture and heartache. Between Friends paints the daily lives behind utopian dreams, fully realized."—New York Daily News "[A] deeply affecting chamber piece [that] draws on...the contradictory urges that lie at the heart of Israel’s psyche."—Ben Lawrence, Telegraph (UK) "Lucid and heartbreaking... Oz explores the always uncertain relationships between men and women, parents and children, friends and enemies, in a clear, clipped language perfectly suited to the laconic tone of the narrative and impeccably rendered into English by Sondra Silverston"—Alberto Manguel, Guardian (UK) Praise for A Tale of Love and Darkness:  "Detailed and beautiful . . . As he writes about himself and his family, Oz is also writing part of the history of the Jews . . . We are in the hands here of a capable, practiced seducer."—Los Angeles Times"[An] indelible memoir"—John Leonard, New York Times "Touching, haunting, wrenching, amusing, and sometimes downright hilarious...the best book Oz has ever written."—Robert Alter, The New Republic

"Pensive, sometimes even brooding novel by Oz, widely considered Israel's greatest living writer. If there had been no Judas, there would have been no crucifixion and no Christianity. Should Christians—and Jesus, for that matter—be grateful to Judas, then? This question and a host of related queries resound through the halls of Gershom Wald's Jerusalem apartment, its floors groaning under the burden of books and memories. Shmuel Ash is a bit more than a shlimazel, but he's had a run of bad luck all the same: his parents' business has failed, meaning that his allowance has disappeared, and meanwhile his girlfriend has gone off and married someone else. Apart from burying himself in a thesis on Jewish views of Jesus, what else can he do? Well, for one thing, he can fall in love with the sizzling widow who also lives in Wald's place, where Shmuel has been taken on as a kind of live-in intellectual foil. Why Atalia lives there requires some ferreting out, and suffice it to say that her presence involves echoes of betrayal, perceived or real: 'They called him a traitor,' says Wald of still another shadowy presence in that darkened, bookish house, 'because he fraternized with Arabs.' Oz does not overwork what could be an oppressive and too-obvious theme, and he is the equal of Kundera in depicting the kind of love that is accompanied more by sighs of impatience and reproval than of desire satisfied. One thing is for sure: just as Judas is foreordained to betray Jesus, Shmuel is destined to fall for Atalia; even the cynical, world-weary Wald allows that he should surrender to her: 'You no longer have any choice.' Naturally, the ending isn't quite happy—we would not be in the land of Oz otherwise—but it is perfectly consonant with the story leading to it. Lovely, though with a doleful view of the possibilities of peace, love, and understanding, whether among nations or within households."—Kirkus "Through the story of one young man at a crossroads, Oz presents thought-provoking ideas about traitors, a moving lament for the cost of Israeli-Arab conflict, and a heartfelt call for compassion."—Publishers Weekly

"Oz raises fundamental questions concerning Israeli politics, religion, ethics, and history in this novel about a young Jewish scholar adrift in 1959 Jerusalem. Graduate student Shmuel Ash decides to abandon his studies and perhaps leave Jerusalem; when his parents can no longer support him, his girlfriend marries her ex-boyfriend, and even his Socialist discussion group breaks up. Answering an advertisement for a live-in companion in an old Jerusalem neighborhood, Shmuel finds a welcome retreat in the home of Gershom Wald, a 70-year-old retired schoolteacher suffering from an unnamed degenerative disease. Gershom’s primary caregiver is his son’s widow, Atalia, and Shmuel’s job consists mainly in providing Gershom with spirited debate. The old man’s favorite topic—the formation of the state of Israel—proves somewhat sensitive in that Atalia’s father, David Ben-Gurion opponent Shealtiel Abravanel, had opposed the idea of establishing a Jewish state without first addressing Arab concerns adequately, a position for which he was deemed a traitor. Gershom and Shmuel also discuss the famous traitor that Shmuel has been studying, Judas Iscariot. As Shmuel researches Abravanel and Judas, Oz (A Tale of Love and Darkness) suggests each might be less a traitor than an idealist with an alternate point of view. Oz’s appreciation for multiple perspectives underlies powerful descriptions of Judas at the crucifixion, the brutal murder of Atalia’s husband’s during Israel’s War of Independence, and Shmuel with Atalia at King David’s tomb. Through the story of one young man at a crossroads, Oz presents thought-provoking ideas about traitors, a moving lament for the cost of Israeli-Arab conflict, and a heartfelt call for compassion."—Publishers Weekly "A scintillating novel...Many-layered, thought-provoking and – in its love story – delicate as a chrysalis, this is an old-fashioned novel of ideas that is strikingly and compellingly modern."—The Guardian "Oz (Between Friends, 2014, etc.), widely considered Israel's greatest living writer...is the equal of Kundera in depicting the kind of love that is accompanied more by sighs of impatience and reproval than of desire satisfied. One thing is for sure: just as Judas is foreordained to betray Jesus, Shmuel is destined to fall for Atalia; even the cynical, world-weary Wald allows that he should surrender to her: 'You no longer have any choice.' Naturally, the ending isn't quite happy—we would not be in the land of Oz otherwise—but it is perfectly consonant with the story leading to it. Lovely, though with a doleful view of the possibilities of peace, love, and understanding, whether among nations or within households."—Kirkus "The novel gives a finely vivid and sympathetic picture of a Jerusalem (and an Israel) that has largely disappeared...This book is compassionate as well as painfully provocative, a contribution to some sort of deeper listening to the dissonances emerging from deep within the politics and theology of Israel and Palestine.”—New Statesman

"Pensive, sometimes even brooding novel by Oz, widely considered Israel's greatest living writer. If there had been no Judas, there would have been no crucifixion and no Christianity. Should Christians—and Jesus, for that matter—be grateful to Judas, then? This question and a host of related queries resound through the halls of Gershom Wald's Jerusalem apartment, its floors groaning under the burden of books and memories. Shmuel Ash is a bit more than a shlimazel, but he's had a run of bad luck all the same: his parents' business has failed, meaning that his allowance has disappeared, and meanwhile his girlfriend has gone off and married someone else. Apart from burying himself in a thesis on Jewish views of Jesus, what else can he do? Well, for one thing, he can fall in love with the sizzling widow who also lives in Wald's place, where Shmuel has been taken on as a kind of live-in intellectual foil. Why Atalia lives there requires some ferreting out, and suffice it to say that her presence involves echoes of betrayal, perceived or real: 'They called him a traitor,' says Wald of still another shadowy presence in that darkened, bookish house, 'because he fraternized with Arabs.' Oz does not overwork what could be an oppressive and too-obvious theme, and he is the equal of Kundera in depicting the kind of love that is accompanied more by sighs of impatience and reproval than of desire satisfied. One thing is for sure: just as Judas is foreordained to betray Jesus, Shmuel is destined to fall for Atalia; even the cynical, world-weary Wald allows that he should surrender to her: 'You no longer have any choice.' Naturally, the ending isn't quite happy—we would not be in the land of Oz otherwise—but it is perfectly consonant with the story leading to it. Lovely, though with a doleful view of the possibilities of peace, love, and understanding, whether among nations or within households."—Kirkus