Life on Sandpaper (Hebrew Literature Series)
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Susan Sontag writes: "Of the novelists I have discovered in translation... the three for whom I have the greatest admiration are Gabriel Garc?a M?rquez, Peter Handke, and Yoram Kaniuk."
clothes, but not in the New York of the Jews; not the New York where Miranda’s parents lived with the Communists and the Jews. She’d spend a few days with Freedley, he always knew how to make a woman feel like a lady. The last of the great cavaliers in America is courting me and yet here you people come wanting to marry my rare flower, my Miranda. I sensed her defeat long before she herself sensed it. She was already actually looking at me every time she addressed me. She admitted sadly that she
are faint; the corners are sharp. Everything is very lucid or very dark. The white paint becomes grayish as it touches the man’s hair and bluish as it touches the sky. She was perhaps hallucinating. Afterward Sandy told me, rumbling like a madwoman, about a play she was writing. She got off the toilet and put on a kimono, and with her white face and her hair gathered into its towel cone she sat down and read me a few excerpts from the play and then Adele Schwartz arrived. I asked Adele and her
there we flew to London. We stopped over there for two days. I had a friend in London I hadn’t seen for five years and whose name I’ve forgotten and who was engaged in planning the global Trotskyite revolution. We walked in the city and met an angry and horribly rude policeman. The sun was shining and we went into a restaurant and the food was excellent. Lee said that in twenty minutes flat all the English stereotypes had been refuted: a rude British policeman, a lovely and sunny summer’s day,
sometimes painted the young girls whose resolves were weakened by the anguish that Gandy expressed so picturesquely by rolling his eyes and raising his long lashes all the way up to his eyebrows. But that wasn’t enough to make a living. I started using enamel paints because they were cheaper. I painted on the backs of used canvases. Before Christmas we painted greeting cards that we unsuccessfully displayed in Rosetta Reitz’s legendary store on Greenwich Avenue. At Jewish weddings I learned how
he’d be back. And then Lee and little Baird sat on the floor and laughed their heads off. At the time Lee had made friends with a Yugoslavian dancer who said she was in love with a doctor called Arthur Brandt. One day she brought him over. He looked at us and smiled and the first thing he asked was whether we’d ever had an Indian meal. We said we’d never had an Indian meal. He came back next day, this time alone, carrying a huge sack filled with ingredients. He begged our pardon and told us not