I've been impressed by Twilight and also by Souls on Fire (despite giving the latter a low rating). The fragmentary, dream-like structure of this book never quite gelled for me. The actual battle scenes, snippets as they are, recording the events of the Six Day War were cohesive, lucid and tersely poignant. For just a few pages, clarity would overtake the narrative - before confusion set in once more.
The whole roundtable discussion/argument/storytelling of the beggars of Jerusalem (with the unresolved question of how mad they are, still hanging) which dominates most of the book feels like wisps of mist. Nothing substantial exists as an anchor to be sure about what's real and what's imaginary. This is a huge pity, since the Holocaust forms a backdrop to the story's event and, to a degree, the question mark over what's illusion and what's not also hangs over the memories painted of it.
It wasn't too long before I was wondering about the reality of Katriel, the hero extolled by the beggar. The introduction of Malka - initially as a shadow on the Wall - did her great disservice, assuming she was not fictive. No guarantees there, though.
This book uses one of my least favourite fictional styles: that of the never-resolved mess-with-your-mind edge-of-madness float-in-and-out-of-sanity/reality forms. The fact I gave it three stars indicates how very well written it is.
November 2022: I recently reread the novel, thinking I was reading it for the first time. It seemed only faintly familiar, indicating that the piecemeal nature of the book does it a disservice , simply because it doesn't stick in the memory. I did wonder, this time through, however, if Katriel was a symbol for "covenant with/of God" and whether Wiesel was declaring that in these post-Holocaust days it's a flighty thing. Katriel's wife, Malka, is perhaps Jerusalem itself.
Some notes and quotes from a second read.
Kill a Jew and you make him immortal; his memory, independently, survives him. (p9)
He who says "I" has said everything. Just as every man contains all men, this word contains all words. It is the only word God uttered at Mount Sinai. Yet one must know how to pronounce it was He does. He says "I" and it means: I who am with you, within you.We say "I" and it means: I who am opposed to you, all of you. His "I" embraces men, ours divides them. On His lips "I" means love, on ours too, but it is no longer the same love. For it is easy for us to love one another, it is even easy to love our enemies; much easier than to love ourselves. (p10f)
Jerusalem: seventeen times destroyed yet never erased. (p14)
Let anyone other than the Messiah try to pass the heavily bolted Gate of Mercy and the earth will shake to its foundations. (p15)
With the building of the Temple, man proved himself worthy of sanctifying space as God had sanctified time. (p15)
Where are the Hasidim and their equally fanatical opponents, the Mitnagdim? (p26)
The Kotel Hamaravi, the Wailing Wall, according to the sages, protects the gate of heaven. (p63)
Katriel's father expects him to take a wife and have children so that they will transmit his name and Katriel's and one day the Messiah will hear their voices. (p89)
The Jews are God's memory and the heart of mankind. We do not always know this but the others do and that is why they treat us with suspicion and cruelty. Memory frightens them. (p104)
Mekubal: mystical madman and visionary (p167)
Har Habayit: Temple Mount (p173)
"Israel won because its army, its people, could deploy six million more names in battle." (p180)