Uncategorized
Ben Lerner’s tale of three hotels is a lyrical novel of loss and human potential
Transcription
By Ben Lerner
Farrar, Straus and Giroux. $25, 144 pages
As we scroll through the final portion of human history before it gets permanently revised by AI, Ben Lerner has written a lyrical novel of loss.
This three-part novel from the author of Leaving the Atocha Station, 10:04, and the Pulitzer finalist The Topeka School, presents loss in many forms: loss of recognition which leads to a confusion of identities; loss of memory which prompts whole new stories; or just, in a banal but usefully metaphorical way, the loss of the unnamed protagonist’s iPhone when he drops it in the sink near the start of the first section, “Hotel Providence.” This tech misadventure means that he will have to use an old landline to dial up his daughter before her bedtime and to rely on his frail human memory to remember the final interview he has with Thomas, his mentor and father figure.
As in his previous autofictional trilogy, Lerner uses a narrator — a writer who, like Lerner, went to Brown University — who hovers between being him and not. A writing assignment has brought him back to his alma mater, but the visit to his professor is more than just a work project. The initial piece and, as it turns out, later pieces about the trip, will be labors of love — with all the agita that accompanies those. The absent digital transcript of his interview at Brown seems to be what gives this book its name as well as what marks him as brave or foolhardy in the eyes of his peers at a later colloquium about Thomas. But the existence of the book as a “transcription” also avows the possibilities of human creativity in the face of transmission losses.
Transcription begins on a train journey and, just to prove that it is about moving away from the here and now, its first words also imply the start of a dream state: “I was falling asleep on a train.” Through the narrator, Lerner tells us as clearly as he can, that he is writing (script) in transit — and investigating how it is to rewrite from a place that is not your own. As the narrator along with Max — Thomas’ son who becomes a second narrator — recount their travels into adulthood, the book’s journey into the unknown is haunted by Freud’s dictum “where id was, there ego shall be.” Caught between fatherhood and filiation, they navigate a world that seems equal parts Escher and Kafka.
The book comprises three sections, each named for a hotel — a place to stay while dislocated: “Hotel Providence,” “[Hotel Villa Real],” and “Hotel Arbez.” The first is set punningly in Providence, the second is set in a hotel referred to in square brackets as if interposed later by editors, and the final one sits half in France and half Switzerland. Indeed, Max is named for the wartime owner of the hotel, since “during the German occupation, the Nazi soldiers could enter the French side of the hotel, but not ascend to the upper rooms, where Max Arbez helped shelter Jews and members of the Resistance. A kind of impossible staircase.”
Hotel Providence, which is located near Brown, is a name to conjure with, and Lerner — a decorated poet as well as a Fulbright, Guggenheim, and MacArthur fellow — conjures with it briefly as he takes his narrator to the interview. On the way, every landmark has either changed or been infused by memory, every person he sees is overlaid by his imagination. Without his phone he feels hypersensitive to his surroundings — “my body was able to convert the strangeness of being screenless into a kind of supersensitivity” — but unlike augmented reality, his senses overlay meaning, not information.
As the narrator walks through Providence, the ghosts of his time frame his vision — “the older woman in the long down coat leaving the List Art Center as I passed became Caroline Sharpe, a professor who told our class, after someone complimented her necklace, that she kept a cyanide capsule in its opal locket for use in case of nuclear war.” Generational perception, shaped by how his daughter Eva views the world, also changes how he sees the streets around him. Plus, he has to actually deal with the real world in the shape of a woman who hails him by name. She “approached me with the confidence of someone sure she’d be recognized” but when she is not recognized, “she discerned my confusion and offered, mercifully, Chloe.”
Reminded by Chloe of their mutual friend Anisa, the protagonist drifts off into one of his more significant digressions, detailing the web of lies she spun, that took him further away from his college girlfriend after a split. That girlfriend, Mia, is now his wife and mother of his child, yet we never hear how the rupture was mended. In a slender volume of scarce novella length, the story of Anisa’s lies takes up valuable real estate and hits us before we get to the ostensibly major characters. The “botanical models made by glass artists” that he and Anisa see at the Natural History Museum at Harvard become the underlying metaphor for how art is created. Their story is the story upon which this story is written.
Transcription works by exploring the specific and allowing it to stand in for the general. For example, almost no one understands the magic of technology but the narrator’s parenthetical aside about a text to his dead iPhone “(I don’t understand where a message lingers, or for how long, when there isn’t a device to receive it.)” has almost spiritual connotations for a novelist who is also an award-winning poet. When he asks Chloe about Anisa, social media is able to complete the specific web of acquaintance but at the same time we remain deeply unconnected: “We’re not in touch, Chloe said, but I know from Instagram that she’s in Atlanta.”
Thomas, the mentor who left post-War Europe for Rhode Island, is described by his son, Max, as “kind of a cross between Wonka and Bergman.” Max, who is the main narrator of the third section “Hotel Arbez,” is only a year older than the narrator and the two were friendly for a while at college. Thomas confuses them with one another as, increasingly, we do as readers. Their lives, their young daughters, their relationship with Thomas, merge. Max recounts the difficulty of looking after a distant elderly parent, while bringing up a child. He feels the distance from family, as many of us did, most keenly over the pandemic. The scenes of phone calls and visits that take place during and after the COVID period are intensely moving: what is done and what is said, despite what cannot be said.
The narrator’s relationships with Anisa and Mia, the near twinning of Max and the narrator, the fraught, heavy, insecure filiation of Max, narrator, Rosa and the others at the colloquium with Thomas, all of these spill over one another in ways that are endlessly reflective.
Many have written about the difficulties of conveying meaning from one person to another, from one generation to another, from one language to another. Translation, for example, is often viewed with distrust — “translation is treason” as the saying goes — but for Lerner, transcription is a new way of thinking about how we write meaning down or across or over. The concept becomes a way of thinking about translation, transmission and also, in the sense of over-writing, palimpsests — pages written over previous writing. Transcription is a function that our machines and AI can produce, but it is also the word that we use for expressing our genetic inheritance: DNA code expresses its nature through transcription into RNA.
In our age of Zoom, where we meet through machines and delegate our next steps to transcriptions and AI, it makes sense for Lerner to probe the nature of those pregnant gaps between humans that we all too often assume are filled with facts and decisions.
In the second part “[Hotel Villa Real],” the narrator continues to think about the Anisa episode about which Chloe reminded him. He googles Andrés, the Spaniard that Mia had had a fling with decades ago, an episode embroidered and extended by Anisa at the time. As if to compare the nature of testimony, he is made aware by his friend Rosa, a curator at the host institution, that his colleagues felt that he had “falsified” Thomas’ “testament” in the paper he had given, confessing that he had not recorded the final interview. Rosa says they feel his account of the night is a “deepfake.” The narrator finds it inconceivable that he is not trusted, but revisiting that evening, especially in the wake of the Anisa episode, makes it feel somehow suspect.
There is a convenient transactional conceit that a transcription will be complete or accurate but it is a convention intended for business, not for life. Everyone knows that even if Zoom transcriptions were not filled with errors, inconsistencies and nonsense, they would be woefully inadequate records of how humans experience one another. What we hear can have transactional value but, without context of the whole gestalt — the smells, the sounds, the body language of the person that we are interviewing — to claim that a recorded and transcribed interview is more accurate than a curated memory by a trusted author is to mistake the idea of veracity itself.
The closing epitaph from an artisan about how to “become a glass modeler of skill” is just the final example of how the glass touchscreens that enclose our lives are the least interesting of the ways of understanding our existence. We have no “secret apparatus” to form our worlds, but we increase our abilities by honing them from parent to child, “the touch increases in every generation.”
For Lerner, the Jewishness of his writing is in what he cannot escape: whether that is noticing the fringe cultists of Neturei Karta holding Free Palestine signs at a protest in the background of his daughter‘s FaceTime as he talks to her from abroad, the quirk of Hotel Arbez that gave Jews safe harbor from the Nazis, or the murky European history of his mentor with his Holocaust survivor wife. But in the end, what is more Jewish than a book written to study how we write and how we transmit wisdom, knowledge, information, behavior, and mistakes from generation to generation.
The post Ben Lerner’s tale of three hotels is a lyrical novel of loss and human potential appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
Arab parties are kingmakers, but will Israel’s Jewish leaders accept them?
(JTA) — JERUSALEM – Less than an hour after election night exit polls were published, Mansour Abbas, the leader of the Islamist Ra’am party, whose representation was predicted to almost double, declared: “We will translate this electoral power into an influential political force … we’re here — not on the sidelines.”
With all the votes now counted, Ra’am has indeed grown from five to eight seats, while the other Arab party, the Joint List, has received 11. Their combined unprecedented 19 seats out of a total of 120 in Israel’s parliament, the Knesset, now make the Arab parties a powerful force and one that could potentially break the political deadlock after neither the bloc led by Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu nor the opposition bloc led by Gadi Eisenkot have enough seats to form a governing coalition.
A record number of Arab-Israelis voted in last Tuesday’s election, signaling for the first time in Israel’s history that the country’s Arab public, which makes up around 21% of the general population, is demanding to be counted in Israel’s political process.
The question, now, is whether Israel’s Jewish political leaders — and the public they represent — are ready to accept them as legitimate partners in governing the country.
“The Arab parties managed to produce an historic turnout in the Arab community, a reflection of this population joining Israeli democracy and the democratic process, and their desire to see their issues being taken care of by the Israeli government and political system,” Yohanan Plesner, president of the Israel Democracy Institute, told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
“But while they performed phenomenally and beyond any expectation, it’s still too early to tell whether the massive expectations that led Israeli Arab voters to the streets will actually be met by a political system willing to respond to this desire,” he said.
The record voter turnout among Arab-Israeli citizens breaks with a decades-old tradition of shunning Israel’s political institutions in protest over the conflict with the Palestinians – many themselves identify as Palestinian citizens of Israel – and a feeling that whoever is in power will not truly address their needs.
After four years of a government dominated by far-right Israeli nationalists, however, Arab voters felt they had no choice but to step up, analysts told JTA. It was not only the inflammatory rhetoric and attacks on the Arab community by senior government ministers that drove up turnout to some 80% – compared to only 53.2% in the last election in 2022 – but also the outgoing government’s policies.
Minister of National Security Itamar Ben-Gvir, who prior to his political career was convicted for incitement to racism, has overseen mass demolitions of illegally built homes, especially in the Bedouin towns in Israel’s Negev region, and failed to address soaring crime rates in Arab towns.
Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich has threatened to force the Arab population in Israel out of the land, outlining in September a plan to Judaize Arab-majority areas in Israel’s periphery. In one recent case, he even backed young Israeli Jews who set up an illegal outpost inside an Israeli-Arab town.
It is such moves, as well as multiple statements casting suspicion on Israel’s Arab sector, especially following Hamas’s Oct. 7, 2023, massacre in southern Israel, that ultimately pushed the community to vote en masse, according to experts on the Arab community. Many cast ballots for the first time.
“It was an existential fear,” said Michael Milshtein, head of the Palestinian Studies Forum at the Moshe Dayan Center at Tel Aviv University, who has researched political trends in Israel’s Arab community for years.
He pointed to a poll published following the election by Arabic-language newspaper Kul al-Arab showing that nearly 92% of Arab voters said that the main thing driving them out to vote was the fear of Smotrich and Ben-Gvir.
“It’s an almost unprecedented motivation,” he said. “But it can also be a formula for a cascade of expectations.”
Among those expectations now is that Israel’s majority Jewish parties that have promised change in the country – and promised to oust Netanyahu and his far-right partners – will include Arab parties or at least make use of this electoral momentum.
The political party Ra’am, which has roots in the Muslim Brotherhood, has already shown a willingness to join the government. The party, which focuses on social welfare issues and fighting crime, already broke down barriers in 2021 by joining former prime ministers Naftali Bennett and Yair Lapid in a government that briefly ousted Netanyahu.
For the Joint List, an alliance of three majority Arab parties focusing on socialist politics, civic equality for Arab citizens of Israel and Palestinian nationalism, joining an Israeli government or even providing it with a safety net from the outside is a big step.
All three parties – Hadash, a left-wing socialist party, Ta’al, a party promoting Arab civic rights and equality, and Balad, which represents pan-Arab nationalism – hold at their core the fight for Palestinian rights and national statehood.
Yet at least two of the parties, Hadash and Ta’al, have indicated a willingness to put some of their agenda aside in order to help change Israel’s current leadership.
“We are ready for political cooperation to form an alternative government that will present a genuine alternative and commit to a fundamental change in the current government’s racist policies,” Yousef Jabareen, head of the Joint List, said as votes were being counted on Thursday. “A government that will work to recognize the rights of the Arab public and end its exclusion, and that of its representatives, from the political system.”
However, Gadi Taub, a professor at Hebrew University of Jerusalem and co-host of the Israel Update podcast, called including such parties in Israel’s government “ridiculous.”
“These parties are anti-Zionist, they are against the very existence of Israel and some of them are direct terror supporters,” he said, referring to statements made by Balad’s leader Sami Abu Shehade after Oct. 7, which he later walked back.
“None of them will designate Hamas as a terror organization, even after Oct. 7,” noted Taub, adding that Israeli law should forbid parties that are openly against a Jewish state from running for parliament.
He pointed out that attempts to ban the Arab parties from running in this election were ultimately blocked by Israel’s Supreme Court, although Shehade did withdraw from the race. No other country would tolerate political leaders that “do not acknowledge the self-determination” of the country they live in, said Taub.
Including Arab parties in a government is something that was not even considered by Jewish or Zionist-focused parties until the offer came from Ra’am in 2021. In fact, there have only ever been two Muslim Arab ministers, Ghaleb Majadele, a member of the Labor Party, who served under former prime minister Ehud Olmert and Issawi Frej, from the Meretz Party who served from June 2021 to December 2022.
Three years after Oct. 7, when fear and mistrust of Arabs because of the attack remain high, the idea of aligning politically with Arab politicians who openly advocate for Palestinians is even more complex.
While Netanyahu and his coalition partners painted such a collaboration as an existential threat for the state in the lead-up to last week’s vote, almost all the parties in Eisenkot’s bloc, except for the Democrats headed by Yair Golan, also ruled out the possibility.
Mairav Zonszein, a senior Israel analyst with the International Crisis Group, said it was difficult to evaluate whether Israeli society as a whole was now ready for such political influence from Arab Israelis, but said the more pertinent question was whether Eisenkot and his political partners, Naftali Bennett and Avigdor Lieberman, were ready for it.
“This is pretty much their only option if they want to get rid of Benjamin Netanyahu,” she said. “The main question is how important it is for them to remove Netanyahu that they would be willing to compromise on something that they made a frontline issue?”
Zonszein added that even center-left former prime minister Yair Lapid, whom she characterized as pragmatic in every other way in his efforts to oust Netanyahu, has stated that he would not work with the Arabs.
She called lumping the entire sector together “outrageous.”
“It really defies the very notion of a democracy,” Zonszein said, accusing Netanyahu of dismissing “Palestinians just for being Palestinians, regardless of the fact that they are law-abiding citizens, that they pay taxes and are present in all aspects of the workforce.”
Throughout Election Day, the embattled Netanyahu published a stream of video clips declaring that Arabs were “flocking” to the polls. He told his supporters that if they did not want an Islamist state in Israel, then they’d better get out and vote for him.
Analysis by some fact-checkers has since revealed that many of the images Netanyahu used to scare his voters were in fact AI-generated fakes.
Tani Frank, director of the Shalom Hartman Institute’s Center for Judaism and State Policy, argued that the delegitimization of the Arab vote was one of the “focal points of the Likud campaign.”
“One reason for this is to weaken the ability of the change bloc to form a government with the support of, or reliance on, the Arab parties — specifically Ra’am and Mansour Abbas, who has already done so previously,” he said.
Frank said he believed that the willingness of Jewish Israelis to accept cooperation with Arab parties, especially after Oct. 7 and the Likud campaign, was extremely limited.
A few days before the election, a snap poll conducted by the Israel Democracy Institute found that “a clear majority of Israeli Jews opposed either Arab party playing a role in any government.”
While a majority of those on the left said that they would support a coalition of center and left-wing parties with the support or participation of the Arab parties, those in the center and right preferred another round of voting rather than forming a coalition with them.
Since the election, Netanyahu and his supporters have tried to cast doubt on the mass Arab turnout and on the legitimacy of the Arab political leadership. This has included accusations by members of his Likud party of voter fraud and foreign interference from Qatar, followed by statements Thursday from the Central Elections Committee that it was investigating foreign funding irregularities.
Netanyahu wrote in a post on X: “The elections in the State of Israel were stolen by Arab parties that support terrorism and the elimination of the Jewish state, through serious criminal offences involving bribery, threats, violence, forgery and the use of prohibited software to mobilize voters.”
Supreme Court Justice Noam Sohlberg, head of the elections committee, said on Sunday at a press conference with the country’s attorney general and the director of the Israel Security Agency, the Shin Bet, that the investigation into alleged foreign funding was serious and ongoing but would not change the results.
“Our position is that even if the suspicions are substantiated, this would not undermine the integrity of the electoral process or the election results as a whole,” he said.
On Saturday night, protests were held by both those against allowing Arabs into the government and those who believe it is the only way forward. A small group of those who are against such a move gathered in Tel Aviv chanting that Israel must not allow “terror supporters into the government.” Much larger groups of protesters in favor of a collaboration gathered around the country urging Eisenkot to take the step.
Mohamed Darawshe, a political analyst and director of strategy at Givat Haviva, a leading center educating for a shared society in Israel, said that if after the massive turnout on Election Day the Arab parties were not included in a change government, there would be great “disappointment.”
“If they are blocked from the right wing, that is understandable. But if their natural partners in Jewish society block them, they will end up turning their back on the whole political scene,” he said.
Darawshe said such a scenario would make Arab society unlikely to participate in such numbers in future elections.
“It will be like a vote of no confidence in the Israeli political system and complete disbelief in the promise that Israel can offer political equality as promised in the Declaration of Independence,” he said.
Political equality, Darawshe pointed out, is “not just allowing Arab citizens to exercise their equal rights on the day of the elections, but also to exercise their rights the day after the election, meaning allowing them to be part of the coalition and not to create a glass ceiling at representation in parliament.”
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post Arab parties are kingmakers, but will Israel’s Jewish leaders accept them? appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
With a Kennedy Center honor under Trump, David Mamet enters his final, tragic act
There was a time when David Mamet being honored at the Kennedy Center wouldn’t have raised eyebrows.
His contributions to American theater and film transcend an affinity for four letter words (let’s call them “the F— Variations”). His tough-talking, desperate men gave splenetic voice to the indignities of a capitalist system in Glengarry Glen Ross, evolving sexual mores in Sexual Perversity in Chicago and, in a movie like The Verdict, the justice system.
Cut to 2026 and Mamet’s scripts are but an afterthought to his grievance. When he makes headlines now, it’s for his reactionary conservative streak and his role as a partisan in the culture war. Together with a run of flops, numbering a Harvey Weinstein #MeToo comedy and a Broadway show not even Al Pacino could save, his esteem has cratered among the liberal circles that once embraced him, and to which he once belonged but now prefers to eviscerate.
He has made the transition from dramatist to pundit, first at HuffPost, lately at The Free Press. Reading too much into Oleanna, perhaps, he has called teachers pedophiles on Fox News, written screeds on cancel culture and, a prerequisite for the Kennedys at this moment, praised President Donald Trump.
In the honor, there is a strain of tragedy. Mamet has strayed so far from where he started — what he called his “brain-dead liberal” era — that he makes perfect sense for this appointment, under a regime that tried to slap its leader’s name onto a tribute to a slain president meant as a bipartisan shrine to art. (Due to the Center’s closure amid turmoil and legal battles, the ceremonies will take place at the Capital One Arena, which is only too perfectly bleak.)
A younger Mamet would have looked askance at such a figure as our current Commander-in-Chief, a character who is on the make with all sorts of half-baked schemes. The Iran War may be his latest play on a Buffalo nickel.
It’s enough to make one wonder if we’ve been misreading Mamet all along. Are the men breaking-and entering to steal the Glengarry leads meant to be admired? Are the Hollywood sleazes in Speed-the-Plow aspirational? Is Al Capone the real hero of The Untouchables?
Perhaps the evening, which tends to include career retrospectives, will elucidate. But if the Kennedy Honors could once be said to be for closers, it may now be only for a particular kind of sellout.
The post With a Kennedy Center honor under Trump, David Mamet enters his final, tragic act appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
Why is Britney Spears studying Hebrew?
It’s Britney, Yitz!
Continuing a curious social media trend that has previously seen appreciation for the beards of chess-playing Chabadniks and the Zohar hidden among baby clothes, Britney Spears took to Instagram Sunday to post a Hebrew Book of Psalms and the Lekutei Amaraim, or Tanya, a Hasidic book of sayings.
The caption reads: “I’m extremely bored !!! Learning Hebrew reading right to left !!! Beautiful language !!!” (A previous caption, posted Sunday, was more cryptic, concluding “God speed little man !!! I love u !!!,” perhaps indicating the presence of a havruta or someone in her life who keeps his mitzvot.)
What exactly is happening here? Is Spears, like Marilyn before her and Sydney Sweeney now, about to dip her toe into the mikveh?
The best clue we have isn’t from Spears’ page, but from Israeli model Natalie Dadon, who tagged the “Hit Me Baby One More Time” singer in a selfie with the Tanya. “Finally, it’s possible to tell,” Dadon posted, in a gallery with Hebrew language news coverage of the posts. Dadon did not immediately respond to a request for comment.
Dadon’s social media presence involves Tanya study, which itself is a cornerstone to Lubavitch philosophy (so perhaps is connected to the Chabad chess players whose beards Spears so admired) and adjacent to Kabbalah.
Spears is no stranger to Jewish subjects. Around the time she locked lips with Madonna at the 2003 VMAs, she started, like so many others, to look into Kabbalah, as this handy timeline from Hey Alma notes. She has a Hebrew tattoo of letters that signify healing in kabbalistic texts and was apparently once attached to star in a Holocaust-time-travel-romance film called The Yellow Star of Sophia and Eton, which now that I’ve heard of it I will never shut up about.
She has credited Kabbalah with helping her through a difficult time in her life and has been spotted wearing a star of David.
But we should approach Spears’ dalliance with Judaism, now sandwiched on her Insta page between a call-out of her sister Jamie Lynn and a NSFW video of her dancing with a rose Emoji as a fig leaf, with some healthy skepticism.
Her Instagram bio currently reads “Pray Every Day” with a prayer hands emoji next to a Bible emoji with a cross. She’d still appear to be Christian — or, at the very least, waiting for the new iOS update with the Tanya emoji.
The post Why is Britney Spears studying Hebrew? appeared first on The Forward.
