That range of centuries can make the translator's life a challenge, but it seems natural for Ravikovitch. The poet's mother was the granddaughter of one of the founders of Mea She'arim, the ultra-Orthodox Jerusalem
neighborhood, and taught religious texts for a living though she lived a secular life; her daughter Dahlia clearly inherited the family love of traditional Jewish texts.
There are other loves here, too, like Rome
, the scene of a slew of these poems. Ravikovitch and Rome is an interesting pairing, and I imagine that the translators tried to see Italy as the poet saw it. Italy, like Israel, has an ancient past, ground that millions call holy, majestic mountains and blue water, and hordes of tourists who can never fully know it. In Rome, as in Jerusalem, there is an insiders' code, which may have appealed to Ravikovitch, the descendant of early settlers of Israel. The bond was so strong that the visual artist Jenny Holzer put some of Ravikovitch's poems in Rome's public spaces.
But at her core, despite all the travel poems, Ravikovitch was deeply Israeli, and her most important landscape is her inner landscape, which she sometimes melds with Israel's landscape in her work. In 1942, when she was six, Ravikovitch's father was killed by a drunken Greek
soldier in the British army, described in the poem "on the road at night there stands a man." Ravikovitch's mother only told her daughter that her father was dead two years after the fact. The poet had a son, Ido, at 42 and later lost custody of him, yet another major loss. Ido is the subject of some of the softest, most tender poems here, and he helped with this volume.
Despite her fame here, Ravikovitch never had it easy - personally, psychologically, or financially. I was drawn to the poem "Growing Poor
," which reminded me strangely of some of the wrinkled 70-something women climbing the mountainous streets of Rome, refusing to take public transportation or move to an easier city, because in Rome, one walks. Here it is, in its entirety:If I am to grow poor
let it be like a land
ravaged by blight.
If I am to grow poor
let it be with pride.
are saved from the fire.
If I die, this is my desire:
Let me be
like some ship wrecked at sea.
Waters without end
will extinguish the fire.
The line "Torah scrolls/are saved from the fire. Not me" is especially troubling, because of how true it is: the Jewish community often rushes to preserve religious artifacts, and "collectors" go door to door to raise funds for rabbis or yeshiva students so they should not starve. There is no such collection effort for Jewish poets, even major ones like Ravikovitch.
IT'S IMPOSSIBLE not to hear the poet's psychological struggles. The poem "Like Rachel" ends with the haunting line: "To die like Rachel/That's what I want." But it seems important to note that Ravikovitch believed her struggles helped her fight oppression. "If I didn't know depression myself, I wouldn't be able to feel the tears of the oppressed," she once told an interviewer.
Ravikovitch was involved in efforts to secure Palestinian rights for decades, and the poems reflect her commitment, which deepens with time. "On the Attitude Toward Children in Time
of War" plays with a line from the Talmud, Sanhedrin 4:5, which famously reads: "He who destroys a single human soul... it is as if he had destroyed the entire world." The poem starts:
He who destroys thirty babies
It is as if he'd destroyed three hundred
and toddlers too,
or even eight-and-a-half-year-olds,
in a year, God willing, they'd be soldiers
in the Palestine Liberation Army.
The poem also plays with Natan Zach's poem about whether the number of children reported killed in the 1982 Lebanon war
was accurate. This, too, is an example of the translators' thoroughness; footnote after footnote is actually helpful, and I think even those who can read Ravikovitch in Hebrew can learn something from them.
The layers of Ravikovitch's battles, references and conversations are housed well in this physically beautiful volume: The cover, title, and typesetting are all classy, not a given in poetry publishing. The book-jacket copy refers to the "Occupation," politicizing the book immediately, which may draw some and deflect others; I would prefer if the poems were allowed to make their own case for how they see history. Politics aside, I hope the presentation helps bring Ravikovitch to the attention of the English-reading world, giving her the global audience she deserves.Like RachelTo die like Rachel
when the soul shudders like a
wants to break free.
Behind the tent, in fear and
Jacob and Joseph speak of her,
All the days of her life
turn head over heels inside her
like a baby that wants to be
How grueling. How
Jacob's love ate away at her
with a greedy mouth.
As the soul takes leave now,
she has no use for any of that.
Suddenly the baby screeches,
Jacob comes into the tent -
but Rachel does not even sense
Rapture washes over her face,
* * *
Then did a great repose descend
The breath of her nostrils would
not stir a feather.
They laid her down among
and made her no lament.
To die like Rachel,
that's what I want.