Gideon Levy on Mahmoud Darwish (Haaretz – 2002)

I would like to respond to Gideon Levy's review (Haaretz Books, July 5) of Mahmoud Darwish's book of poems. There are several fundamental points in this review, some of which relate to the treatment of literature in general, and therefore I have extended it somewhat. Thank you for publishing this letter.

                                                                                    Michai Avraham, Yeruham 07-6583230

Levy claims that one does not have to be leftist to be moved and identify with Darvish. He also asks why one cannot find universal values of longing for one's homeland, the tragedy of deportation, etc. in his poetry?

If it is indeed true that only leftists read Darwish, why is this really the case? Perhaps because, although 'you don't have to be leftist to enjoy it,' it certainly helps. This fact can be interpreted in one of two ways: either the leftist's enjoyment is based on his worldview, or the rightist's lack of enjoyment is based on his own worldview. Gideon Levy chooses, for some reason, the second option.

Levy calls for an examination, postmodern in essence, of a literary work, solely from within itself, according to aesthetic-emotional values, without an 'objective' examination of the political-moral background that underlies it (no wonder he relies on Said and Raz-Korotskyn, clear representatives of this position).

I think that the best reference to these things is found in A. B. Yehoshua's book 'The Terrible Power of a Small Guilt', which is entirely dedicated to opposing such a technical and postmodern reading of literature. Yehoshua calls for examining the moral background of the work and not just the experience it evokes in the reader, and says this (p. 24): "There is a fundamental difference between the way in which literature creates moral catharsis and the operation of the media. Literature does not ask its recipients to understand, but to identify, and the power of identification is that the moral issue does not remain at the cognitive level, but becomes part of the recipient's personality and selfhood, and his personal problem...".

Anyone who does not identify with the moral-ideological background of Darwish's descriptions, anyone who thinks that the Palestinians are not victims of expulsion or 'Nakbo', but a people who slaughter and act without restraint against their own people as well as against others (mainly, but not only, Israelis), will have difficulty identifying with these 'universal' values in Darwish's poetry. Such a person does not want the same identification that Yehoshua speaks of to be created. It is clear that when reading about human suffering, the heart can be torn, but the moral position that is shaped by the reading is certainly dependent on ideology.

For example, would Levy recommend that we read the moving (and fictional, as far as I know) book of poems by Baruch Goldstein's wife, which describes in a heartbreaking way the (real) suffering of his family due to their 'murder' in the Tomb of the Patriarchs disaster? This too is a 'universal experience.' It can even make us 'understand', and perhaps even 'identify', with this family.

Levy, and this is clearly due to his political positions, treats the Palestinians differently. Why, then, does he state that the approach should not differ between the left and the right? I, on the other hand, due to my own positions, do not want to base a 'moral catharsis' on the situation of the Palestinian people. In my opinion, there is relevance to the question of who is to blame for this situation (contrary to Levy's words there), as well as to the question of how much others have suffered at the hands of those Palestinians? I am not willing to create emotional identification with the families of those who slaughtered me (and are still doing so), in the form of 'sorry I won!'. I do not accept artistic postmodernism, which examines each work only from within itself, as well as political postmodernism, which examines the justice of any side in the conflict only from within its own world. Apparently, on both of these levels, I disagree with Levy.

Beyond an artistic and political debate, perhaps legitimate in itself, there are also inconsistencies and dishonesty here. If Levy decided to engage in literature and poetry, and he is interested in enriching our spiritual world with additional poetic values beyond those familiar to us, there are many other poets from all over the world who are not taught in Israeli schools. His recommendation of Darwish does not seem to stem from his sudden interest in the state of literature, nor from Darwish's contribution to world poetry. It is clear that he does not intend to sever the political context but rather to disguise it, thereby causing the formation of an ideological worldview based on emotional identification (just as he does in his articles in the Shabbat supplements). I would expect him to be honest enough not to disguise his political preaching in a cloak of poetic piety and emotional extortion.

While poetry can afford to be a little illogical, arguments, even if they concern poetry criticism (unlike Levi's own arguments, which deal mainly with politics), should certainly be subject to the laws of logic. It is impossible to talk about universal values that are independent of worldview, and at the same time say that reading will change the worldview of 'whoever dares'. It is impossible to talk about identification that is created with the text and its author, and claim that this has nothing to do with political positions. To claim that the goal is only literature and emotion, and to propose precisely Darwish, who is so demanding. It is true that in the postmodern Beit Midrash, the last thing that is considered when constructing an argument is the laws of logic.