>The New Yorker: "Heirs" by Amos Oz

>Was something lost in translation? Aryeh Zelnik is relaxing on the porch of his mother’s bucolic home when Wolf Maftzir, a fast-talking lawyer, shows up. We learn that Zelnik is cut off from the rest of his family and that his wife left 3 years earlier, so Zelnik sold his belongings, emptied his apartment and moved home. But Wolf—from his description, the name is apt—seems to be related and thinks he is entitled to share the hose. He bullies his way inside, and lies down with Zelnik’s mother, who seems to recognize him. I couldn’t help but feel that the reader was missing some crucial information to grasp this one.

January 22, 2007: “Heirs” by Amos Oz

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  1. >Thank you for the review. I love the title and would love even greater if you would further explain what you meant by perpetual folly.

  2. >I write, and I write, and I write–perpetually. And yet, isn’t it folly? Alternatively, isn’t lit-blogging a perpetual folly–there is no end in sight, and yet I blog.

  3. >Cliff, I share your belief that some important information is missing. And Aryeh twice considers the possibilities open to him once his mother will no longer live in the house. The duplication of information feels like a copy/paste error.

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