The present article seeks to analyse the place of Shakespeare’s work within the oeuvre of Gabriel Josipovici, starting with the latter’s first published critical book, The World and the Book, and ending with his most recent, Hamlet: Fold on Fold. In the early work Josipovici sought to establish a direct line between the Middle Ages and Modernism, yet Shakespeare was already a presence whose plays obliged that line to deviate. In his later critical work, such as On Trust, Shakespeare becomes one of the figures who allows Josipovici to exemplify clearly the crucial gap he wishes to explore between saying and doing. This gap is most fully explored in the recent book on Hamlet, where the protagonist is seen as the supreme literary example of what happens when the traditions governing doing have fallen away, leaving the character adrift in a sea of possibilities of utterance and action, none of which has the feel of necessity.
A Muslim Perspective – Part I
Karin (Karima) Paustian
Morocco. That was fairly uncomplicated. We went into the mosque, where we would meet the Imam with the twelve witnesses that my husband had previously collected from the streets, and completed our wedding ceremony. One part of the ceremony requires saying
A Hero of the Twentieth Century
Miriam Bracha Heimler
surprised when the request came from Professor Goldman at Szombathely University to have Dr Eugene Heimler’s three volumes of verse drama republished in Hungary. With no more than the knowledge of saying in Hungarian ‘I love you’ and a few other expressions
Wendy Bracewell and Alex Drace-Francis
In writings about travel, the Balkans appear most often as a place travelled to. Western writings about the Balkans revel in the different and the exotic, the violent and the primitive – traits that serve (or so commentators keep saying) as a foil to self-congratulatory definitions of the West as modern, progressive and rational. However, the Balkans have also long been travelled from. The region’s writers have offered accounts of their travels in the West and elsewhere, saying something in the process about themselves and their place in the world.
Something that is often quoted in exegetical literature is the saying that the Book of Ruth, 'the high intention of which is to give a king of Israel decent and interesting ancestors, is at the same time … the loveliest little epic and idyllic entity … that has been passed on to us.' This saying is attributed to Goethe, although he was not the first to see it. Since then, the ghost of the idea of a lovely, idyllic little Book of Ruth has haunted scholarly work. Can points be found in the text's content that give rise to this, or are these criteria that are brought in from the outside, caused for example by the gender of the two main persons, Naomi and Ruth, the repeated use of the diminutive form of speech, and the trivialization of what is narrated?
Abraham Joshua Heschel's Rabbinic Scholarship
I am a congregational Rabbi; neither an academic scholar of Rabbinics, nor an academic scholar of twentieth-century theology. I was also not the first person Professor Saperstein asked to address a conference designed to appreciate and assess the enduring influence of Professor Heschel’s work on Rabbinic Judaism, which is fine. I would also not have been the first person I would have asked. The first person asked to assess the ‘enduring influence’ of Heschel’s work on Rabbinics was a proper scholar of Rabbinics and that person declined, saying they had never read Heschel’s most important book on Rabbinics – Torah Min HaShamayim.
The Dialectic of Life and Death in Tony Harrison's Laureate's Block
The dialectic of life and death is a persistent theme in Tony Harrison’s poetry. Some of his greatest poems are dominated by this subject: ‘A Kumquat for John Keats’, ‘Cyprus and Cedar’, ‘The Lords of Life’, to name just a few. Critics have repeatedly highlighted this feature: Sandy Byrne’s pioneering book states that ‘most reviews of Harrison’s work begin by saying that it is concerned with division, or that it is dialectical’; she then goes on to state that ‘[m]any of the poems’ protagonists abound in ambiguities, inconsistencies and paradoxes’. In a much quoted interview with John Haffenden, Harrison sketches out that fundamental paradoxical division of his personality
The Jewish Sages of the Mishnaic and Talmudic periods had an ambivalent attitude towards the prophet Ezekiel, which was particularly pronounced in relation to the first chapter of his Book. The visual audacity and dexterity of this chapter, which describes Ezekiel’s call to prophecy through his vision of the heavenly chariot and throne, was compared by the Sages to Isaiah’s restrained revelation (6:1–4), in their well-known saying (Babylonian Talmud, Hagigah, 13b): ‘All that Ezekiel saw Isaiah saw. What does Ezekiel resemble? A villager who saw the king. And what does Isaiah resemble? A townsman who saw the king’.
Henry stood groaning in front of the pigeonholes, holding out a letter in one hand in passable imitation of Hamlet. ‘Good news from your agent?’ asked Dr Bee. ‘Agent, what agent?’ said Henry. ‘My agent is a secret agent. She doesn’t reveal her existence to me or mine to any publisher. No, there’s this letter saying Rollo said to get in touch with me and thanking me for arranging lunch and I can’t read the signature. Can’t remember arranging any lunch’.
This article tries to elucidate Gabriel’s story ‘Steps’ to some extent. Here, as elsewhere, the narrator’s deliberate failure to clearly separate actual from imaginary facts and incidents causes problems of understanding. Initially, we are told that the protagonist has long been living in Paris. A little later, however, we hear that he has moved to Wales with his second wife. So where does the man live? While other stories remain ambiguous throughout, ‘Steps’ seems less impenetrable. The protagonist, we learn, often indulged fantasies when he went for his strolls in Paris and is quoted as saying ‘Going up and down steps lets the mind float free’. When at the end of the story the narrative suddenly shifts to the present tense – ‘…he climbs the steps of the rue St. Julien’ – this seems to suggest that most of the story represents aspects of the protagonist’s ‘alternative lives’, as envisaged during his walks.