A Horse Walks Into A Bar...

The book laid in the Kindle library for months, till I finally dug it out to read because it won the 2017 Man Booker International Prize. That would be David Grossman's 'A Horse Walks Into A Bar' (2014). Originally written in Hebrew, it's translated by Jessica Cohen and published in English in 2017. (Reviews here, here, here and here.)

Woah, it's a heavy book. Hefty in the number of pages, and hefty in terms of contents, details and significance. I couldn't finish it in one sitting. In fact, I had to re-read and muse upon many of the 'jokes'. I marveled at the author's prose and skill in weaving in circumstances and 'jokes' and scenarios.

The book revolves around one show in a night put on by fifty-seven-year-old stand-up comedian Dovaleh Greenstein in a small basement club in Netanya, Israel. The book is narrated by retired district court judge Avishai Lazar, who has been invited to this show by Dovaleh, and he reluctantly attends. Another old friend is in the audience too, seemingly without him recognizing her till much later. The comedian picked on her using her phone. Azulai is a manicurist and a part-time village medium. She's really short and has a speech impediment. She also knew him as a kid. She probably touched a raw nerve when she retorted, "Why are you like this? You were a good boy!"

Jewish humor abound in Dovaleh's 'jokes' as he begins the act with fairly mild topics. Then it becomes a drag as he insults and abuses his audience and goes on anti-Arab chants. He brings out his entire life story. It's a train wreck. The audience walks out bit by bit. Then only three people are left. Dovaleh doesn't mince the words about the abuse he has suffered at the hands of his family and in the military. Readers begin to wonder if this is a comedy at all. There’s nothing very funny about Dovaleh’s words. In the end, only the performer is left with his oldest friends whom he hasn't seen for decades, and they have seen his life play out on stage tonight.

He's saying goodbye. I can feel it. He knows this is the last time he's going to tell these jokes. The girl who was about to leave but came back leans her head on one hand and gazes at him vaguely. What's her story? Did she go home with him after a gig one night? Or maybe she's one of his five children, and this is the first time she's hearing his story? And the two bikers in black—were they somehow connected to him as well? 

I remember what he told us before, about how he used to play chess with people walking on the street. They each had a role, even though they didn't know it. Who knows what complicated chess game he's conducting simultaneously here tonight?