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Monday, May 14, 2012

My Russian Grandmother and Her American Vacuum Cleaner (Meir Shalev)

Before last month, I had read three books by Israeli authors.  The first was a Holocaust narrative, and the others were novels describing dysfunctional families. They were good, but they all were dark and somber, and I had to ask, “Don’t Israeli writers have a sense of humor?”  My very literary cousin Michal, unwilling to tolerate this shameful ignorance in the family, straightaway shipped me several more Israeli books - Books!!  Beautiful books!!! Among them was Meir Shalev’s My Russian Grandmother and Her American Vacuum Cleaner.  I laughed aloud at the title and knew I had to read it first.

This book is a whimsical memoir centered on the author’s Grandma Tonia, a tiny terror in ever-oscillating stages of affection and irritation with everyone around her. But her most defining characteristic is her radical cleanliness as she relentlessly battles the pervasive dirt from their farm.

Moshav Nahalal in the 1930s
Shalev beautifully constructs the plot of betrayal, pride, and revenge surrounding Grandma Tonia’s gigantic General Electric “sweeper.”  He builds wonder and suspense in every chapter and even fosters empathy for the machine itself.  As he tells that bigger tale, he also diverges into lots of other unrelated but substantive family lore, some of it real, some fantastical, enhancing our perspective on that zany and volatile clan.

Shalev is clearly a great writer and storyteller from a lineage of writers and storytellers, but there’s more to love than just the narrative.  There’s the historic Israeli setting - the moshav, the rival kibbutz, urban Jerusalem, trucks, trains, tractors, and farm animals.  There’s the patriotic and familial pride of the settlers, their innovative frugality, and best of all, Grandma Tonia’s prolific Hebrew-as-a-second-language malapropisms.
Meir Shalev (photo by Beny Shlevich)

From what I can tell, Shalev couldn’t have chosen a better translator.  Evan Fallenberg keeps the reading light and simple, nicely offsetting the inherent cultural abrasiveness. He also elegantly incorporates explanations for some crucial Hebrew expressions.

And now my previous assumption about Israeli literature is disproved.  It’s not all gloomy.  I know there’s at least this one downright delightful exception!