LIBRARY Odradek, Via dei Banchi Vecchi 57
Presentation of the book by Miriam Marino: Infinite Injustice
By Gabriella Gianfelici
Ed Falling Stars 2002
knowledge and dialogue are a must in our present reality, wearing high thoughts, as in this tale of Miriam, must rise above even the most utopian drive to regroup and live together, or where we will bring this system full of wars, bitterness and weapons for everyone?
This presentation will be interspersed with some of my poems of Miriam, by excerpts from his book and two poems: a poet's Shlonski jew and the other by the Palestinian poet Fadwa Toqan.
and introduce reading a few sentences from the book:
"freedom is a gift of love" (With the eyes of Gadi). "Out of the sun as a fire broke out, but the relatives involved in the discussion there were careful. Think of other explosions. Gadi realized that there comes a time in which we can only speak with her tears and felt that everything was still fragile and provisional and full of pain. His grandfather had told Gadi "Never lose your soul" "And never lose hope" ... we remain imprisoned in their hardness as in a tomb. But when the soldiers began to uproot the olive trees of the Palestinians, Yossi and his friends had chained themselves to trees to prevent the killing and when they arrived in the villages with tanks and bulldozers to knock down the houses, the peace activists were thrown in front the bulldozers ... "
In all these tales are narrated events: there is no trial, nothing remains outstanding: the true feeling that everything above is a true feeling of peace. We find the limit of the dying experience and the experience those who do not want to die, but live, and falls in love, cry and struggle to do no harm to anyone and never to cry no one.
As Iris, Israeli soldier defector. For his choice does not want to kill, not fight: it will rot in prison.
The stories are inspired by actual events, and Miriam, with its painful insight shows the problem, and shows it in all its brutality.
We are poor but we have voices and think thoughts not shunned, and we want to dig out the silence, the poet writes jew Shlonski:
In the blue sky high above
fish already swimming gold in the thousands. And the night
The network stretches to take you fishing and
the moon rising from the sea.
And Toqan Fadwa, given a louder voice of poetry Palestinian women, who never wanted to leave Nablus, writes:
the black day of the flood
rejected by wild beaches
and thrown in the good green earth, that deluge
enemy said :
has already fallen into the tree?
We forgive the red streams,
forgive us that we have the roots wet with blood wine
We forgive the corpses of Arab roots
ranging in depths as deep as rocks
And that stretch far away. One day the tree will rise
And the leaves grow toward the sun,
will be green again and smile
leaves.
The real proposal on these pages is the dream: the dream of a reconciliation achieved, pictures of mutual coexistence of the two brotherly peoples: Arabs and Jews
This and only this pages Miriam invite us to wish for: listening to each other and a path together.
And again from the book:
"We want security, we want walls, it takes a decision. (Anat, Mother Israel p. 44.)
" No, we only want to love you are wrong: It takes a love for life, for if same for your children and your neighbor ... I can not be in solidarity with the settlers, for me it is easier to direct and be in solidarity with other mothers who have suffered and are suffering like me, are they Israeli or Palestinian is right ... no war ... "
These stories are like a social action to make our reality more careful, more sensitive and more appropriate to the other, as well as the selfishness and the ice that bind the soul; Miriam brings us back history with its stories, we relive life situations, without masks and multiple expendable social hypocrisy.
So it shows that the relationship between the subject and the word is clearly an ethical responsibility in the face of hard headedness of what happened, of the impossible to stop the violence.
A poem by Miriam from the book "Kaddish"
I know not to tear my hair
And the clothes I do not know
Nor cry cry. But a small crack
barely noticeable on the floor of the soul
there opened and all torn
As I work in your silence
Because dei8 scratches
Raptor as a dove that wraps
with you in your shroud
The my soul silent.
And a small section from his book: Remember Amalek
A tear slid from his cheek and landed on the grass, I settled down as a drop of dew. She looked surprised, but what seemed really amazing was that the grass had browned, it was green ...
We find in these lines many adjectives to emphasize significant the "want to give," the desire to donate.
The language creates a narrator shapes the story that you want to build and the words of Miriam, effective and chained, unable to summon a new situation for the next hook. Thus, as in all books of short stories of Miriam, the definitive work appears to be unique creation, namely itself.
This set of books, stories and poems as, form work and subsequent issue of this author.
Everything is permeated with great ease, Miriam lives these figures and these painful events with love and commitment.
movement which generates movement, a resurgence of consciousness that can awaken other minds.
And yet the book: (Jamila p.. 31)
"The man continued to hit him with the stone from my hiding place I could hear the screams of Hamed, but I was too scared to do something, hit him until it is moved and I have not done anything, Mom ... "
Even a glimpse of a world that is tearing apart and still expands beyond measure. Sadness opens and closes each page of the volume.
critic, wrote Marina Tsvetaeva, should be a detective and a lover together, have the gift of the seer and read in the text and over again.
also for women who write are put into play even empathy, affinity, communication.
And only then can dissect a text, and make material lived and even emotional.
And yet I remember the claim of Virginia Woolf "Words are useless," where she stressed the utmost importance that the words take on not only in relation to events, but also to personal ties, emotions, memories, to memory. The writer here
I become I witness observes, examines, weighs: images so well and every sentence is a fragment of memory and concentration processing.
Gabriella Gianfelici
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