Sayed Kashua

Hailed as "an unusually gifted storyteller with exceptional insight" (Jewish Tribune), Bernstein award-winning writer Sayed Kashua presents his masterful fourth novel Track Changes which follows an Arab-Israeli man as he reckons with the weight of his past, his memories, and his cultural identity. Having emigrated to America years before, a nameless memoirist now residing in Illinois receives word that his estranged father, whom he has not spoken to in fourteen years, is dying. Leaving his wife and their three children, he returns to Jerusalem and to his hometown of Tira in Palestine to be by his family's side. But few are happy to see him back and, geographically and emotionally displaced, he feels more alienated from his life than ever. Sitting by his father's hospital bed, the memoirist begins to remember long-buried traumas, the root causes of his fallout with his family, the catalyst for his marriage and its recent dissolution, and his strained relationships with his children--all of which is strangely linked to a short story he published years ago about a young girl named Palestine. As he plunges deeper into his memory and recounts the history of his land and his love, the lines between truth and lies, fact and fiction become increasingly blurred. Track Changes is a stunningly original, poignant, and captivating exploration of alienation, love, country, and memory by one of the most important writers at work today.

Track Changes

Ultimi dispacci di vita palestinese in Israele

Sayed Kashua has been praised by theNew York Times as "a master of subtle nuance in dealing with both Arab and Jewish society." An Israeli-Palestinian who lived in Jerusalem for most of his life, Kashua started writing in Hebrew with the hope of creating one story that both Palestinians and Israelis could relate to, rather than two that cannot coexist. He devoted his novels and his satirical weekly column published inHaaretz to exploring the contradictions of modern Israel while also capturing the nuances of family life in all its tenderness and chaos. Over the last decade, Kashua's humorous essays have been among the most widely read columns in Israel. He writes about fatherhood and marriage, the Jewish-Arab conflict, encounters with prejudice, his professional ambitions, and his love of literature. With an intimate tone fueled by deep-seated apprehension and a razor-sharp ironic wit, he has documented his own life as well as that of society at large--from instructing his daughter on when it's appropriate to speak Arabic (everywhere,anytime, except at the entrance to a mall) to navigating security at Ben Gurion airport (in a Citroen that he'd bought especially for checkpoints: "God in heaven, who ever saw an Arab driving a Citroen?") to opening a Facebook account during the Arab Spring (so that he wouldn't miss the next revolution). From these events of his everyday life, Kashua brings forth a series of brilliant, caustic, wry, and fearless reflections on social and cultural dynamics as experienced by someone who straddles two societies. Amusing and sincere,Native--a selection of his popular columns--is comprised of unrestrained, profoundly thoughtful personal dispatches.

Native

A nimble, engaging, unflinching debut novel of a young Arab-Israeli who struggles to rise above larger forces beyond his control. In this debut novel that “rings out on every page with a compelling sense of human truth” (Kirkus Reviews), a nameless anti-hero contends with the legacy of a grandfather who died fighting the Zionists in 1948, and a father who was jailed for blowing up a school cafeteria in the name of freedom. When the narrator is granted a scholarship to an elite Jewish boarding school, his family rejoices, dreaming that he will grow up to be the first Arab to build an atom bomb. But to their dismay, he turns out to be a coward devoid of any national pride; his only ambition is to fit in with his Jewish peers who reject him. He changes his clothes, his accent, his eating habits, and becomes an expert at faking identities, sliding between different cultures, schools, and languages, and eventually a Jewish lover and an Arab wife. With refreshing candor and self-deprecating wit, Dancing Arabs is a “slyly subversive . . . chilling, convincing tale” (Publishers Weekly) that brilliantly maps one man’s struggle to disentangle his personal and national identities, only to tragically and inevitably forfeit both. “Despite its dark prognosis, there is a lightness and dry humor that lifts it with the kind of wings its protagonist once hoped for.” —Booklist

Dancing Arabs

Essays by “Jerusalem’s version of Charles Bukowski . . . Just as aware and critical—of his city, his family, Israel, the Arabs, but most of all of himself” (NPR). Sayed Kashua has been praised by the New York Times as “a master of subtle nuance in dealing with both Arab and Jewish society.” An Arab-Israeli who lived in Jerusalem for most of his life, Kashua started writing with the hope of creating one story that both Palestinians and Israelis could relate to, rather than two that cannot coexist together. He devoted his novels and his satirical weekly column published in Haaretz to telling the Palestinian story and exploring the contradictions of modern Israel, while also capturing the nuances of everyday family life in all its tenderness and chaos. With an intimate tone fueled by deep-seated apprehension and razor-sharp ironic wit, Kashua has been documenting his own life as well as that of society at large: he writes about his children’s upbringing and encounters with racism, about fatherhood and married life, the Jewish-Arab conflict, his professional ambitions, travels around the world as an author, and—more than anything—his love of books and literature. He brings forth a series of brilliant, caustic, wry, and fearless reflections on social and cultural dynamics as experienced by someone who straddles two societies. “One of the most celebrated satirists in Hebrew literature . . . [Kashua] has an acerbic, dry wit and a talent for turning everyday events into apocalyptic scenarios.”—Philadelphia Inquirer “What is most striking in these columns is the universality of what it means to be a father, husband and man.”—Toronto Star

Dispatches from an Israeli-Palestinian Life

Imagine your own home surrounded by roadblocks and tanks, your water turned off and the cashpoints empty. What would you do next? A young journalist, recently married with a new baby, is seeking a quieter life away from the city and has bought a large new house in his parent's hometown, an Arab village in Israel. Nothing is as they remember: everything is smaller, the people petty and provincial and the villagers divided between sympathy for the Palestinians and dependence on the Israelis. Suddenly and shockingly, the village becomes a pawn in the power struggles of the Middle East. When Israeli tanks surround the village without warning or explanation, everyone inside is cut off from the outside world. As the situation grows increasingly tense, our hero is forced to confront what it means to be human in an inhuman situation.

Let it be Morning

A revealing portrait of the conflicted allegiances of Israeli Arabs in this searing new novel from one of the most daring voices of the Middle East. A young Arab journalist returns to his hometown—an Arab village within Israel—where his already vexed sense of belonging is forced into crisis when the village becomes a pawn in the never-ending power struggle that is the Middle East. Hoping to reclaim the simplicity of life among his kin, the prodigal son returns home to find that nothing is as he remembers: everything is smaller, the people are petty and provincial. But when Israeli tanks surround the village without warning or explanation, everyone inside is cut off from the outside world. As the situation grows increasingly dire, the village devolves into a Darwinian jungle, where paranoia quickly takes hold and threatens the community’s fragile equilibrium. In a novel that “relates the experience of those caught in the middle, the Arab-Israelis who are citizens but are separated from many of their countrymen by faith and heritage” (School Library Journal), Let It Be Morning, proves once again that Sayed Kashua is a fearless, prophetic observer of a political and human quagmire that offers no easy answers. “Kashua . . . writes about the Israeli Arabs’ balancing act with knowledge and passion.” —Publishers Weekly

Let It Be Morning

Un uomo che ha lasciato Gerusalemme con la moglie e i figli per immigrare negli Stati Uniti riceve, dopo anni di totale distacco dai suoi genitori e fratelli, un messaggio da parte del padre: «Sono in ospedale». Per quanto conciso, è difficile restare indifferente a un simile appello. Salito sul primo volo, l’uomo torna in Palestina preparandosi ad accompagnare il padre attraverso la sua malattia e, allo stesso tempo, a confrontarsi con il proprio passato. Su di lui gravano due compiti difficili: il primo è quello di fare i conti con la propria infanzia nel villaggio palestinese di Tira, dove è cresciuto, e il secondo, ancora più traumatico, è quello di dire addio per sempre a suo padre. Il viaggio si tramuterà anche in un’occasione di riflessione sulle scelte che hanno segnato la sua vita: perché è stato scomunicato dalla sua famiglia? Perché negli Stati Uniti è rimasto solo, bandito da sua moglie dalla loro casa? E perché tutto sembra collegarsi al fatto che, molti anni prima, ha scritto un racconto su una giovane ragazza di nome Palestina? Accanto al letto d’ospedale di suo padre, il resoconto della propria vita è doloroso e ingannevole - perché sembra impossibile districare i ricordi che sono suoi da quelli che ha rubato. La traccia dei mutamenti è una profonda riflessione sulle relazioni - quelle tra marito e moglie, e tra padre e figlio. E può essere letto come la «confessione» di Kashua, benché allo stesso tempo si configuri come un’opera di pura finzione letteraria.

La traccia dei mutamenti

Sayed Kashua – Wijzigingen bijhouden In Wijzigingen bijhouden schrijft Sayed Kashua over Palestijnen en Israëliërs en over wat ze zich willen herinneren en wat ze willen vergeten. Het gaat over heimwee, ontworteling en de verwerking van herinneringen. Over Palestijn zijn in Israël en over vader-zoonrelaties. Schrijver S., die jaren geleden met zijn vrouw en kinderen Jeruzalem had verlaten om naar de Verenigde Staten te emigreren, krijgt bericht dat zijn vader in het ziekenhuis ligt. Ze hebben elkaar al veertien jaar niet gesproken. S. stapt op het vliegtuig om zijn vader bij te staan en om in het reine te komen met zichzelf – met zijn traumatische verleden in het Palestijnse stadje Tira, waar hij is opgegroeid. Waarom heeft hij zijn vader en andere familieleden sinds zijn huwelijksdag niet meer gezien? Waarom heeft hij een moeizame relatie met zijn vrouw? Wijzigingen bijhouden van Sayed Kashua is ambitieus, intrigerend, en bovenal een ware eye-opener.

Wijzigingen bijhouden

Due in uno

"Part comedy of manners, part psychological mystery . . . Issues of nationalism, religion, and passing collide with quickly changing social and sexual mores." —Boston Globe From one of the most important contemporary voices to emerge from the Middle East comes a gripping tale of love and betrayal, honesty and artifice, which asks whether it is possible to truly reinvent ourselves, to shed our old skin and start anew. Second Person Singular follows two men, a successful Arab criminal attorney and a social worker-turned-artist, whose lives intersect under the most curious of circumstances. The lawyer has a thriving practice in the Jewish part of Jerusalem, a large house, a Mercedes, speaks both Arabic and Hebrew, and is in love with his wife and two young children. In an effort to uphold his image as a sophisticated Israeli Arab, he often makes weekly visits to a local bookstore to pick up popular novels. On one fateful evening, he decides to buy a used copy of Tolstoy's The Kreutzer Sonata, a book his wife once recommended. To his surprise, inside he finds a small white note, a love letter, in Arabic, in her handwriting. I waited for you, but you didn't come. I hope everything's all right. I wanted to thank you for last night. It was wonderful. Call me tomorrow? Consumed with suspicion and jealousy, the lawyer slips into a blind rage over the presumed betrayal. He first considers murder, revenge, then divorce, but when the initial sting of humiliation and hurt dissipates, he decides to hunt for the book's previous owner—a man named Yonatan, a man who is not easy to track down, whose identity is more complex than imagined, and whose life is more closely aligned with his own than expected. In the process of dredging up old ghosts and secrets, the lawyer tears the string that holds all of their lives together. A Palestinian who writes in Hebrew, Sayed Kashua defies classification and breaks through cultural barriers. He communicates, with enormous emotional power and a keen sense of the absurd, the particular alienation and the psychic costs of people struggling to straddle two worlds. Second Person Singular is a deliciously complex psychological mystery and a searing dissection of the individuals that comprise a divided society.

Sayed Kashua

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