“Nuweiba,” too, was obviously not written on-site. The song is a brilliant synthesis of lyrics and music, but as Shoham points out, no one lying on the beach there would see, as the song describes, the sun plummeting into the sea. Poetic license or faulty memory has changed the direction of the sunset from the Sinai mountains to the water (like the sunsets over the Mediterranean).These aren’t the only songs written about one place from another. Ehud Banai’s eponymous tribute to the south Tel Aviv neighborhood of “Florentin” was actually written in Jerusalem’s Nahlaot on the eve of Independence Day 1980 and completed in Ramat Gan in 1992 (the year it appeared on Banai’s third album).Particularly relevant against the backdrop of today’s “tent protests,” Shoham notes the conflict between real-estate interests in Florentin and those who want to keep something of its authentic, old-worldly nature.Each site has been carefully researched with its own particular story and anecdote, a popular Hebrew song, and suggested attractions (complete with a phone number and a note mentioning whether entrance is free or not).The Elah Valley, for example, is represented by “Goliath,” and Shoham explains both the history of the site of what is probably the world’s most famous duel and the quirky song, written by Alon Olearchick to Danny Sanderson’s music for Kaveret’s third album, before suggesting a few hikes in the area.Readers travel to a different beat with, for instance, “Elul b’Ein Kerem” for Jerusalem, or Lea Goldberg’s “Shir Hanamal” (“Ode to the Port”) for Tel Aviv. Here we learn that the port was established under the British Mandate in 1936 when Jaffa Port was closed as part of the Great Arab Revolt. Goldberg’s poem was published in Davar Leyeladim and, from the children’s newspaper, was set to music by a Jerusalemite kindergarten teacher and spread through the country from kindergarten to kindergarten, youth movement to youth movement.And while we’re on the subject of youth, I discovered, through Shoham, that the song “Ein Gedi” was written by two 17-year-olds in 1958.We can also learn about iconic songwriter Ehud Manor’s childhood and memories through his “Yemei Binyamina” (“Binyamina Days”).The songs, but not the accompanying text, have nikud (vowels), particularly helpful for some of the older ones (such as Ya’acov Orland’s “Shir Habokrim” (“Song of the Cowboys”), an appreciation of the “endless Arava.”As guidebooks go, this not only has a twist – it concludes with the Bossa Nova in Hebrew.It’s an interesting way to learn about the country even if you never actually hit the road – although it’s hard to imagine anyone wanting to stay at home if they have a chance to put the book in a backpack, put on a hat and sunscreen, and step out of its pages.liat@jpost.com Eretz, Shir, Sipur (NIS 109) is available at all major book stores or through the publishers (info@mapa.co.il).
Songs for the road
Step back in time, or hit the road, with a lyrical guidebook to Israel
“Nuweiba,” too, was obviously not written on-site. The song is a brilliant synthesis of lyrics and music, but as Shoham points out, no one lying on the beach there would see, as the song describes, the sun plummeting into the sea. Poetic license or faulty memory has changed the direction of the sunset from the Sinai mountains to the water (like the sunsets over the Mediterranean).These aren’t the only songs written about one place from another. Ehud Banai’s eponymous tribute to the south Tel Aviv neighborhood of “Florentin” was actually written in Jerusalem’s Nahlaot on the eve of Independence Day 1980 and completed in Ramat Gan in 1992 (the year it appeared on Banai’s third album).Particularly relevant against the backdrop of today’s “tent protests,” Shoham notes the conflict between real-estate interests in Florentin and those who want to keep something of its authentic, old-worldly nature.Each site has been carefully researched with its own particular story and anecdote, a popular Hebrew song, and suggested attractions (complete with a phone number and a note mentioning whether entrance is free or not).The Elah Valley, for example, is represented by “Goliath,” and Shoham explains both the history of the site of what is probably the world’s most famous duel and the quirky song, written by Alon Olearchick to Danny Sanderson’s music for Kaveret’s third album, before suggesting a few hikes in the area.Readers travel to a different beat with, for instance, “Elul b’Ein Kerem” for Jerusalem, or Lea Goldberg’s “Shir Hanamal” (“Ode to the Port”) for Tel Aviv. Here we learn that the port was established under the British Mandate in 1936 when Jaffa Port was closed as part of the Great Arab Revolt. Goldberg’s poem was published in Davar Leyeladim and, from the children’s newspaper, was set to music by a Jerusalemite kindergarten teacher and spread through the country from kindergarten to kindergarten, youth movement to youth movement.And while we’re on the subject of youth, I discovered, through Shoham, that the song “Ein Gedi” was written by two 17-year-olds in 1958.We can also learn about iconic songwriter Ehud Manor’s childhood and memories through his “Yemei Binyamina” (“Binyamina Days”).The songs, but not the accompanying text, have nikud (vowels), particularly helpful for some of the older ones (such as Ya’acov Orland’s “Shir Habokrim” (“Song of the Cowboys”), an appreciation of the “endless Arava.”As guidebooks go, this not only has a twist – it concludes with the Bossa Nova in Hebrew.It’s an interesting way to learn about the country even if you never actually hit the road – although it’s hard to imagine anyone wanting to stay at home if they have a chance to put the book in a backpack, put on a hat and sunscreen, and step out of its pages.liat@jpost.com Eretz, Shir, Sipur (NIS 109) is available at all major book stores or through the publishers (info@mapa.co.il).