David Grossman in Turin

The main hall was sold out more than half an hour before the event. David Grossman, at the Circolo dei lettori last Sunday, November 16th, attracted, as he has done on other occasions, a large and attentive audience, who welcomed the writer with a long and warm applause. Grossman, in turn, was, as always, kind and helpful, at once brilliant, emotional, and moving, quoting the titles of his works in Italian in a sort of homage to the local audience.
Prompted by questions from the Circolo dei lettori’s director, Giuseppe Culicchia, David Grossman addressed a wide range of topics, from his relationship with writing and characters to his first readings, from the power of literature to artificial intelligence.
Writing is a way of putting yourself in someone else’s shoes, which is a wonderful thing. There’s no need to self-censor: even mistakes are significant; they tell us something about our own blindness. Speaking of To the End of the Land, Grossman said he had difficulty understanding Orah’s character and even wrote her a letter, until he realized that she shouldn’t surrender to the writer, but he should surrender to her; he should allow her to describe the world with her own vocabulary, not impose his own. The book wrote me, he said. Writing taught me to lower my defenses, he later said, and I don’t want to have defenses.Responding to the question of which writer ignited the flame of literature in him, Grossman told the story of his encounter at the age of eight with Shalom Aleichem’s texts, given to him by his father, which allowed him to rediscover a vanished world, swept away by the Holocaust. His knowledge of the writer’s work was so extensive that he even appeared on a radio quiz, despite his parents’ opposition, and at the age of nine, he conducted radio interviews with singers, athletes, and others around Israel.Introducing Grossman at the beginning of the conversation, Culicchia had already emphasized the writer’s commitment to peace, his critical stance toward the current Israeli government, and his interview with Repubblica a few months ago, which had caused quite a stir for its use of the term “genocide.” When asked about the topic later, Grossman spoke of the furious reactions, with people calling for a boycott by no longer reading his books; some threw them away; others threatened to burn them. But he felt compelled not to remain silent at a time (now over) when the situation appeared particularly brutal, with more than 60,000 Gazans killed, including 19,000 children. A term used at a specific time, he emphasized, however, recalling that Palestinians have also committed atrocities and have lived for over a century under siege by terrible regimes, of which Israel has not been the worst. He also emphasized how heartbreaking it is to have to speak ill of his country, a country he loves, where he was born, where his children were born, where he hopes they will continue to live (saying this, he also remembered – deeply moved – his son Uri, who fell in southern Lebanon in 2006) and he hopes that at least they will finally be able to see the home the Jews dreamed of – a home and not a fortress – with clearly defined walls and at peace with its neighbors. He could live elsewhere, in wonderful places (including Italy), but he wants to continue living in Israel, to be part of Israeli society and culture. He considers it an honor and a privilege, and would also like it to be a joy; a society that has flaws but also great strengths, and there’s a sensitivity there that isn’t found elsewhere.
Finally, a reflection on the weight of the Holocaust in Israeli culture; explaining what led him to write See under: love, Grossman recounted growing up knowing many traumatized people with nightmares: his description of his aunt, who at his wedding put a bandage on her arm so as not to spoil the joy of the event by showing off her tattooed number, was very touching.
A very successful conversation, also thanks to the translator’s skill. Fortunately, there were no objections (I recall that Grossman had also faced them on other occasions because he was Israeli), in an evening focused more on literature than current events, as is right in a meeting with a writer.

Anna Segre