מחול העקרבים, המסופר מפיו של אוריון הרמן, הוא סיפורו של ילד שהתייתם מאביו במלחמת ששת הימים, עוד בטרם נולד, וסיפורן של שתי הנשים שגידלו אותו בנסיבות יוצאות דופן. אוריון, שחי בערבוביית חושים המתבטאת ביכולת "לטעום" ו"להריח" קולות, מגולל בישירות כובשת את נסיבות חייו כבן לאמא שהיא עצמה ילדה אבודה, כנצר לאב שהוא רוח רפאים וכנכד לסבתא שאיננה סבתא, ומתאר בפנינו את השתלשלותה של פרשת אהבים שהיא בלתי אפשרית ובלתי נמנעת גם יחד.
Shifra Horn was born in Tel Aviv. She lives in the Old Malcha neighbourhood of Jerusalem and in Auckland New Zealand. After majoring in Bible Studies and Archeology - BA (Hons)- at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, she earned an MA in Bible Studies. Horn also studied mass communications and completed a teaching degree.
Horn worked as an educational officer for the World Union of Jewish Students, and helped to organize the airlift of Ethiopian Jews to Israel. Horn also participated in the campaign to free Soviet and Syrian Jews, producing films and written material.
In the course of her work with Jewish students from oppressed communities around the world, she discovered a village of Jewish Marranos who had kept their Jewish identity secret for over 500 years. Horn's activity in the village of Belmonte in northwest Portugal resulted in the entire population converting fully to Judaism .
Horn was a spokesperson for the Israel Absorption Ministry until her departure for Japan, where she served as Far East correspondent for the Israel Defense Forces Radio station and Ma'ariv daily newspaper for five years. Horn worked as the director of the Tokyo Jewish Community Center and taught Bible Studies and Hebrew at the Bible College in Ginza, Tokyo.
Upon her return to Jerusalem, she opened a public relations firm, and lectured on Japan and literary topics. Her books have been translated from Hebrew into English, French, Dutch, German, Italian, Greek, Mandarin and Turkish.
בניגוד לספר "תמרה הולכת על המים" בו החלק הראשון מצויין והשליש האחרון זוועתי ומיותר, הספר הזה נע בין מצויין לסתמי, מיותר ומשמים.
סיפורו של אוריון, שנולד לאם שהתאלמנה לאחר שאביו נהרג במלחמת ששת הימים. אימו וסבתו הגרמניה, יוהנה מגדלות אותו, עד שאימו עוזבת לאוסטרליה למצוא אהבה והוא נותר בארץ לחיות עם סבתו יוהנה.
החלק הראשון של ילדותו, סתמי. ילד ירושלמי לאחר מלחמת ששת הימים. לא הותיר בי שום רושם. אנקדוטות על שמו, על אביו, על אימו, על יוהנה על בן זוגה של יוהנה. בסדר.
בחלק השני לאחר עזיבת האם, הכתיבה מצויינת. סיפור הנטישה של האם ונעוריו בארץ בתקופת העשרה, אהבתו הראשונה, הגילויים על יוהנה והמוות של חברו פשוט מצויינים.
רק חבל שהחחק השני קצר בספר ואז הוא עובר לחיי בגרותו והמפגש עם אהובת חייו הגרמניה. חלק משמים ומיותר, כמובן שלא מחדש כלום ביחסי דור שלישי לגרמניה ולגרמנים. הוא גם תופס חלק נרחב בספר ומייצר build-up כזה ארוך ומייגע שכשמגיע השיא הוא אובד.
גם הנושא של ספרים שרופים לא בנוי היטב ולא תפור. רעיונות אקראיים פה ושם, שלא מתגבשים לכלל אמירה מהותית ומשמעותית. הרעיון להשתמש באוטו הגלידה רעוע, שמנגן לפי מצב רוחו , גאוני, אבל הרעיון עצמו של הספרים השרופים והספרייה הניידת נותר תלוש ולא שלם.
בקיצור, זו פעם שניה שאני סופגת אכזבה מהסופרת הזו. אני מתנחמת שלפחות הפעם תיאורי המשגלים היו מרוסנים...ככה שהסבל שלי היה מצומצם.
A volte, con i libri, capita il colpo di fulmine. Non c'è bisogno di leggerli, ti hanno già conquistata. Mi è successo con Scorpion Dance. E non è stato uno di quei colpi di fulmine che, dopo qualche giorno di idillio, sfuma. Il libro ha continuato a svelarsi, a farsi sfogliare, a raccontare e a farsi amare. Peché Orion, Johanna, il pappagallo maschio Sarah e Christina ti lasciano addosso le loro impronte, irrimediabilmente, anche se non vuoi o non lo comprendi. Una scrittura, quella di Shifra Horn, evocativa, sinestetica, magica che materializza luoghi e sentimenti. La crescita di Orion avviene sotto i nostri occhi, e dura fino all'età adulta quando una nuova Basherte (dall'ebraico promessa, destino) lo fa uomo. Il caldo di Gerusalemme, l'invadenza del glicine, l'amore che sa di cannella e limone, l'odore acre dei libri bruciati e due donne nel campo di concentramento di Ravensbrück con un neonato da salvare. Le promesse a volte è meglio non mantenerle: solo così si scopre la bellezza di un futuro mai sperato.
Un libro molto denso che affronta forse troppi temi: la paternità (o meglio la maternità visto che il padre è morto), il senso di appartenenza ad un popolo (in differenti modalità), la Memoria (che non si limita alla Memoria della Shoa ma in generale di tutte le oppressioni).
Uno stile a tratti onirico e a tratti flusso di coscienza, si passa tranquillamente dal presente a un flashback a cui si intreccia un'altra memoria e un'ulteriore riflessione filosofica senza o quasi stacchi. Sicuramente deve piacere la letteratura ebraica, perché solo avendo presente certe caratteristiche peculiari di questo tipo di narrativa è possibile apprezzare il romanzo. Che, in ogni caso, è comunque diverso e originale rispetto ad altri che ho letto in precedenza.
Non posso dire che mi sia piaciuto, di sicuro mi ha catturato al punto che dovevo terminarlo. Però non posso in coscienza dare una valutazione superiore, visto che desideravo un lieto fine che, anche se in misura meno negativa di quanto ci si potesse aspettare, non c'è.
Shifra Horn's award-winning Scorpion Dance was first published in Hebrew in 2012, and in Italian in 2016, but we've had to wait twelve years for this English edition from Hybrid Publishers in Melbourne! Translated by Jessica Cohen, who has her own Wikipedia page and who translated David Grossman's A Horse Walks into a Bar which won the 2017 Man Booker International Prize (see my review), Scorpion Dance is evidence yet again that we look to small publishers to bring us the most interesting books.
Scorpion Dance is a novel that wrestles with a number of themes, but the one that stood out for me was the theme of forgiveness and reconciliation. In the Christian New Testament tradition, forgiveness is a virtue, and reconciliation has become a widespread moral imperative even in secular societies. We cannot live together in the proximity of cities if there are personal vendettas going on around us, and countries cannot thrive and prosper if they have hostile relationships with each other. But even children in the playground know how fraught reconciliation can be, especially when a handshake conflicts with a desire for justice. And when the wrong is truly evil and incomprehensibly wicked, with long-lasting consequences for the victims — slavery, WW2 POWs in Japan, apartheid in South Africa, the Armenian Genocide, the Holocaust — then premature reconciliation can be a cruel imposition on those victims. But who can put a timeline on grief?
By coincidence, just this week, I had a conversation about deathbed reconciliations. She was adamant that there were some things that were just unforgiveable, and while I'm forgiving about many things there are some bridges I think will never cross. But then, how do we ever move on, if reconciliation never happens? (It was the complexity of Christmas gatherings, of course, that provoked this conversation.)
For the Jewish characters in Scorpion Dance set in the immediate aftermath of the Holocaust in 1960s Israel, anything German is a lightning rod. Orion's German grandmother with her unmistakeable accent is taunted in the streets and children throw rocks at her door. So why is she there? Is she a German Jew who was persecuted in her own home country? Johanna doesn't tell her secrets. They are not revealed to Orion until late in the novel.
Orion's life is marked by loss. His father died in the Six-Day War. His mother Aviva is determined to take what happiness she can, and she abandons him to the care of his grandmother when he is a boy. Oblivious to his tears, she vanishes to Australia with a new lover, and maintains only desultory contact. She's not bothered about caring for the ageing Johanna either.
'You have to know how to accept the torments of love as well as its blessings,' my mother once said, before she flitted off to Australia in search of it. (p.248)
Inflicting such torment on a boy seems remarkably cruel, and yet... to want to live in a safe, secure place, to start again far from enmities and danger, doesn't seem so extreme. It's leaving the child behind that seems unforgiveable...
The demands of reconciliation can occur in strange ways. In adulthood, Orion hears the music of Wagner for the first time.
The plot is interesting, the characters very unique and well developed, the historical context intriguing and the writing extra expressive (which at times at other books feels excessive and overbearing and here is delightful).
3.5/5⭐ Mi aspettavo che questa storia finisse tragicamente, e così vorrei che fosse stato, perché anche se il lieto fine (più o meno) c'è stato, non lo accetto affatto. Gli avrei dato cinque stelle, ma il finale mi ha spiazzata (e non in senso positivo purtroppo). Nel complesso è un bel romanzo, che tratta molti temi, è molto evocativo e a tratti onirico, e questo a volte crea confusione per cui bisogna essere concentrati. La storia di Orion è complessa, il suo passato è molto doloroso ma allo stesso tempo il suo presente è dolcissimo. Mi è davvero piaciuto tanto ma purtroppo per me ha perso sul finale.
Commento frivolo: persino il titolo e la copertina del libro erano perfettamente azzeccati.
הפסקתי באמצע. הייתה לי בעיה מההתחלה עם העובדה שהסופרת כותבת בגוף זכר. זה לא מתחבר לי, לא אותנטי בעייני. לגבי העלילה- אין ספק שמדובר בנושא טעון וחשוב - ניצולי שואה והדור הראשון בשנותיה הראשונות של המדינה, בייחוד אלה שיש עליהם שמועות. אבל המרקם והבנייה של העלילה לא השאירו בי סקרנות להמשיך. הדבר האחרון הוא הדמיון הרב מידי שהסופרת נתנה בין הסבתא המגדלת לבת הזוג בכל פעם שנעשה דילוג כזה בין הדמויות הרגשתי לא בנוח.