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George Steiner

TEN DAYS

George Steiner: polymath, polyglot,

storyteller; Jewish genius,

anti-Zionist, iconoclast,

storyteller; literary prodigy,

literary prodigal, European,

Cosmopolitan, storyteller…

 

“Anti-Semitic jokes often contain a

grain of truth. Hegel told this one: ‘God arrives,

and in his right hand he is holding

the holy texts of the revelation

and the promise of heaven; in his left hand,

the Berlin newspaper, Die Berliner Gazette.

The Jew chooses the newspaper’.  Hegel’s

anti-Semitic joke contains a profound

truth: Jews are passionate about the ductus,

the internal current of history and time.’

 

In Steiner’s controversial novella,

‘The Portage To San Cristobal Of A.H.’,

A.H. – Adolf Hitler – escaped the bunker

and the Allies and, for thirty years,

hid in the Amazonian jungle

until Nazi hunters captured him.

Events – human and natural – prevent them

from reaching San Cristobal so his captors

put him on trial in the jungle. He argues

that the Jews should be grateful to him for

the Holocaust since it led directly

to the foundation of the State of Israel.

 

Steiner considered that both the First

and the Second World Wars were, in essence,

European civil wars, and viewed

history through the lens of the Holocaust.

His family moved from Vienna

to Paris as anti-Semitism grew

in the Thirties, and then to New York

before the Germans invaded France.

When he was six years old his father

taught him Ancient Greek so that he would

be able to read ‘The Illiad’

in the original, which he did aged six.

 

“When I get up in the morning, I

tell myself this story, so I can make it

through the day: God announces that he’s

sick of us. Really. “I’m fed up!” In 10 days,

the flood. The real one. No Noah this time. That

was a mistake. The Holy Father

tells the Catholics, ‘Very well. It’s God’s will.

You will pray. You will forgive each other.

You will gather your families and wait

for the end’. The Protestants say, ‘You will

settle your financial affairs. Your affairs

must be completely settled. You will gather

your families and you will pray’. The rabbi says,

‘Ten days? But that’s more than enough time

to learn how to breathe under water!’

And every day that magnificent story

gives me the strength and happiness to live my life.

And I believe it, deeply: Ten days

is indeed a long time.”

 

Note: the two quotations – beginning “Anti-Semitic jokes…” and “When I get up…”  – are from:

http://forward.com/culture/367139/you-really-need-to-read-this-terrific-interview-with-george-steiner/

 

 

 

 

 

GUESTS OF LIFE

David Selzer By David Selzer5 Comments2 min read492 views

‘We are the guests of life.’ Martin Heidegger

 ‘In ancient Greek the word for ‘guest’ is the same as the word for ‘foreigner’: xenos. And if you were to ask me to define our tragic condition, it’s that the word ‘xenophobia’ survives, and is commonly used, everyone understands it; but the word ‘xenophilia’ has disappeared…’ George Steiner

 

For Cicero books were the ‘soul of the house’.

The Ancient Romans knew a thing or two

about staying safe in uncivil times.

Nevertheless on his way to sail abroad

the lawyer, statesman, writer, orator

polymath was assassinated

by Roman soldiers obeying the orders

of a vindictive kleptocracy. His head

and his hands were nailed up in The Forum.

Each autumn an affliction of starlings

would swoop above Rome like a chattering net.

Now in the abandoned Coliseum

there are only cats, and the shadows of cats.

 

I watch a neighbour’s cat  – obviously

well fed at home, sleek, sharp-eyed – practising

its instinctive hunting skills in our garden.

Its belly to the ground, it pads forward,

inch by silent inch, then leaps on its prey –

a peacock butterfly opening its wings.

Shocked I almost cry out – but what should

cats know about the absence of butterflies,

or butterflies about the instincts of cats?

But we do – who will risk death to nurse strangers,

and who will slaughter others in a moment.

 

There is no one available now to wind

the parish church clock, whose bells chimed

the quarters and the hours through world wars,

whose hands moved implacably. I can glimpse

the steeple, as I walk the hundred paces

along our garden paths, over the lawns,

across the terraces – where my lovely ghosts

jostle at each turn. I think of house arrest,

self-exile – Ovid, Galileo, the Franks –

note the laburnum’s yellow ringlets

loud with bees, and the wisteria’s sweet

sensuous perfume, the blackbirds nesting

in the ivy, magpies in the snowy drifts

of the pear tree, and consider myself

blessed, if there were blessings to be doled,

having people to love who are living.