MY One and Only Love
By Gilad Atzmon,
Saqi Books
‘A biting satire on Jewish identity, Zionist politics and sex.’ The Observer
‘A fusion of anti-Israeli conspiracy theory and adolescent sexual farce – Mordechai Vanunu meets ‘American Pie’ – which involves crynogenically maintained war criminals, Mossad agents, and a trumpeter who can bring women to orgasm just by playing a single note.’ Time Out
"My One and Only Love is a refreshing, quirky satire laced with plenty of the absurd". Morning Star.
‘A blackly comic satire about a Jewish jazz trumpeter caught up in the world of Israeli espionage.’ The Bookseller
'It is a cue to a remarkable romp that scarcely draws a breath from beginning to .....It’s so good it will probably be banned in Israel'. Jazzwise
‘Catch 22 meets Only Fools and Horses ... ‘dark humour’ isn't nearly strong enough to describe the distorted world that Atzmon portrays and mercilessly satirises.’ Jazz Review
‘A panoply of convincing, crazed and comic voices. A dramatic and entertaining satire and a welcome left-field look at Israeli self-identity.’ Nicolas Blincoe
‘A seriously funny writer and the wittiest musician since Ronnie Scott … We’re lucky Gilad Atzmon is around.’ Robert Wyatt
'A great new literary event – a hilarious book by Gilad Atzmon My One and Only Love is published. I had a pleasure to read it earlier and was absolutely flabbergasted – Gilad produces such flights of imagination that very few writers are able to. It is a funny book, telling of a story of an imaginary Israeli music band roving around the world, smuggling nuclear bombs and captive Nazis in their double violin cases. already (expectedly) attacked by usual suspects'. Israel Shamir
'I couldn't put it down. It's an irreverent, funny, at times tender send-up of Zionism, the notion of Jewish exceptionalism, Israel's spy apparatus, and its use and abuse of the Jewish holocaust. And more'. Jeffrey Blankfort
About The Book:
Danny Zilber is a world-acclaimed trumpet player. A constant procession of women traipse through his dressing room, yet none can satisfy his need for love. Until, that is, an encounter with a mysterious woman who leaves just as quickly as she drops her panties ...
Murder, sexual manipulation, viral infection, the abduction of Nazis - these are just some of the means Danny's manager and his compatriots employ in order to safeguard the security of Israel and propagate German guilt. Meanwhile Danny holds dear the sole memento he has of that fateful meeting - the brassiere his 'one and only' left behind.
Veering from the ridiculous to the sublimely funny, My One and Only Love is a scathingly comic take on Zionist politics and Israeli espionage.
Talking Jazz
http://enjoyment.independent.co.uk/music/features/story.jsp?story=623349
By Sholto Byrnes
25 March 2005
Into the sometimes overly cosy world of British jazz, 11 years ago, strolled
Gilad Atzmon. An Israeli who prefers to be labelled a Palestinian, a Jew
who calls himself an ex-Jew, a saxophonist and clarinettist, novelist,
philosopher and airline pilot manqué, the 41-year-old Atzmon is,
it's safe to say, a bit different. Acker Bilk he is not.
Fame, or infamy, did not come his way immediately, but by 2003, after stints studying at Essex University and playing with Ian Dury and The Blockheads, he was making a mark for himself in a way that no other jazz player in Britain has done before or since.
That year, Atzmon and his band, The Orient House Ensemble, won the best album category at the BBC Jazz Awards with Exile. This so infuriated one critic that he declared the evening had been "hijacked", later writing that he considered Atzmon's album to be Palestinian folk music, and criticising the band leader for making political statements on stage.
Atzmon's comments at the time were tame by comparison with the outrageous (or offensive, depending on your point of view) remarks that trip off his tongue as fluently as the fierce stream of notes that issue from his horn. He says he has a war against Zionism and Israel, and tells me that Cyprus, where his band will play on his current two-month tour of Europe, is the closest he has been to his homeland since he left. "It has the same weather, the same climate, but nicer people," he jokes.
Controversy remains Atzmon's calling card. His aggressive defence of displaced Palestinians has brought thousands of hate e-mails. "They call me all sorts of things - self-hating Jew, for instance." Doesn't he find such an epithet painful? "Marx, Freud, Chomsky - there are some quite nice people on this list," he says. "I call it my Cartesian point. As long as people dislike me, then I am saying something."
More controversy is to be found in his just-published second novel, My One and Only Love. Set in the 1950s, it is the story of Danny Zilber, a trumpeter who plays only one note, but who does so with such accomplishment that it wins him hordes of female admirers. Then there's Sabrina, a female spy who uncovers Nazi war criminals and locks them inside double bass cases. The imprisoned Germans are left trapped in these cases, which are hidden among the baggage accompanying Zilber's orchestra, and they continue to travel in this state for ever.
Why, I ask Atzmon, does Zilber only play one note? "He probably could play many different notes," he replies, "but he's been convinced just to play the one." As such, Zilber is the opposite of his creator. "I play very fast, but that's because I'm always searching for the right note."
He finds it easier, he says, to put his political views over as satire. If it is unusual for a jazz musician to be a novelist, it's far more unusual today for one to be so pre-occupied by political matters. "More and more, my writing and my playing are concerned with ideological issues," he says. "I'm still playing jazz, but this is where I find meaning."
Atzmon thinks that most jazz today is "boring". Neither his music nor his novels could be called that. Whether one agrees with his views or not, there's no denying the passion and beauty of his playing. And a little controversy, surely, is no bad thing.
'My One and Only Love' is published by Saqi Books. 'Musik: Rearranging the 20th century' is released on Enja Records
MORNING STAR
Israeli jazzman's satire hits the right note
(Monday 25 April 2005)
My One And Only Love by Gilad Atzmon
(Saqi Books, £9.99)
RICHARD BAGLEY
http://www.morningstaronline.co.uk/index2.php/free/culture/books/israeli_jazzman_s_satire_hits_the_right_note
A GLANCE at Gilad Atzmon's biography confirms that this "ex-Jew," as he describes himself, who lives in self-imposed exile from his native Israel, is not your average jazz musician.
He's been making a name for himself over the past decade or so as a skilled
saxophonist and clarinettist. He has also played with the Blockheads,
of Ian Dury fame.
Atzmon has infuriated zionists both by the "Arab" elements in the jazz played by his band The Orient House Ensemble - "Palestinian folk music," according to one hostile critic - and the contents of his first published book Perplexed.
While his short literary debut was laced with direct humour grounded in political and sexual satire, its manic energy had a tendency to get in the way of reading. In contrast, Atzmon hits the right note in My One and Only Love.
Atzmon approaches this tongue-in-cheek tale of love lost and Israel's secret services with zeal, distilling a madcap energy throughout.
Told by the characters themselves in interview form, his twisted tale unfolds at a steady pace.
He conjures up money-grabbing entertainment mogul Avraham Shtil, whose greed means that he fails to notice his role in saving nazi war criminals as part of an Israeli plan to keep Germany feeling guilty about the Holocaust.
Then there's his act, dysfunctional trumpeter Danny Zilber, whose "one and only love" is the inspiration for the title.
Atzmon's irreverent lampooning of the Israeli state is sure to provoke the anger of zionists, who will again accuse him of being a traitor to his country.
However, in reality, My One and Only Love is a refreshing, quirky satire laced with plenty of the absurd.
March 10, 2005
My One and Only Love
Gilad Atzmon
London, England: Saqi Books, 2005. 239 pages
http://www.amin.org/eng/uncat/2005/mar/mar101.html
Book review by: Karin Friedemann*
A comical narrative of Zionist espionage and intrigue, “My One and Only Love” is a psychological and political commentary on the personal conflict between being true to one’s heart and being loyal to “The Jews.” This book is about basing one’s life on Zionist lies to the point where a moment of truth and love is perceived as madness. Gilad Atzmon makes fun of famous Zionist historical figures, events and propaganda techniques while exploring the mystery of what it means to be a Jew. This genuinely entertaining book illustrates many ironies of Jewish existence, in particular the opportunistic use of Jewish suffering to promote the State of Israel.
Danny Zilber is a world-famous trumpet player who, despite living the glamorous life, remains innocent. His band is not only wildly popular but is part of a secret Zionist plot to protect a Nazi war criminal while they profit off German guilt feelings. His boss, Avrum Shtil believes that any dastardly deed is justified for the sake of propagating the Zionist cause. When Danny falls head over heels in love with a mysterious German woman, his boss sees in his torment a chance to make mega-bucks. He prefers glorifying Danny’s despair to divulging the lady’s identity. At first, Danny’s career is enhanced by the pain of unfulfilled desire as his music becomes increasingly soulful. Yet the intense and prolonged suffering is unsustainable. Human nature demands that one connect with humanity and be real. As the web of lies becomes increasingly transparent, one must either give up the Zionist cause or self-destruct.
It will be much to the relief of his female admirers that Gilad Atzmon’s portrayal of women is maturing. In his first book, “A Guide to the Perplexed,” the most exciting woman was a plastic blow-up doll. Here we find Danny drawn to the mystery lady’s “intelligent and gentle eyes.” While the previous protagonist’s heart was completely shut down, Danny consciously suffers feelings of unbearable pain and emptiness from his inability to truly love and be loved. It hurts, but it is progress. An emerging sense of personal integrity still shields itself behind a wall of sarcasm.
Danny’s refusal to see the cause of his pain results in the loss of his soul. Danny is not fully conscious of the extent to which his manager is willing to hurt, mislead, and use him for profit, but his willingness to believe Avrum’s deceptions turns Danny’s life into a perpetual hell. Asking God to liberate him from his self-inflicted misery never even crosses his mind. As the author demonstrates, a Jew prefers to self-destruct rather than to repent, accept forgiveness, and henceforth lead an honest life. The Jewish experience is a state of exile from one’s true self, the separation of the soul from God.
Is there a way for Jews to transcend their spiritual exile, achieve inner peace, and stop hurting other people? Although no one in the book has the courage to go through with it, “My One and Only Love” sheds some light on The Way:
Danny’s love for the mysterious German woman leads him for a brief moment to transcend apparent reality and become like Jesus walking over the water. He no longer has any interest in objectifying Germans as targets of manipulation. Danny’s secret desire to have an authentic personal relationship with a German person reveals the key to personal salvation. Learning to love one’s enemy is what is required for the spiritual redemption of the Jews. Danny attains an inner state of harmony and ecstasy which his Zionist boss dismisses as a psychotic delusion. The problem with becoming Christ-like is that you will be crucified. Danny’s one and only love is a lie. While it is ironic that Danny’s true self is accidentally unleashed by a lie, he is ultimately destroyed by an even deeper lie.
In the end, this book was frustrating. Not a single character was redeemed. They were all Zionist scum who deserved to be utterly destroyed, but Atzmon played a nasty trick on us by making us like them and feel bad for them. Those who once experienced a moment of truth yet failed to reject Zionism suffered a far worse end than those who were simply evil and enjoyed being evil. Nevertheless, we emerge with the knowledge by which we can save ourselves from a similar fate. Life always leads you to truth if you let it. Even if all we can see are kaleidoscope distortions of lies upon lies, the intuitive grasp of the patterns within the patterns can serve as our escape route if we actually want to be free.
* A US citizen living in Boston, Massachusetts
JAZZWISE
My One And Only Love
Gilad Atzmon
Saqi, £9.99
http://www.jazzwise.com/magazine
Atzmon is something of a Renaissance man, with degrees in philosophy and music, but it was his experiences as a stretcher bearer during national service in the Israeli army that brought home to him the largely unreported violence being routinely wreaked on the Palestinian people.
Not being one to pass by on the other side, he describes himself as a ‘political’ artist, and through his music, latterly in his rambunctious prose, he makes his frustration with Zionism known. He was delighted when his first novel A Guide To The Perplexed from 2001 was banned in Israel, but published in over 15 territories. Once again he unleashes his stream-of-consciousness wit, this time about the exploits of Danny Zilber, a world acclaimed trumpet player whose composition ‘Widow on the Shore’ transformed him into a worldwide star who says that, ‘in a matter of nights I touched millions of hearts around the globe. Within days I had become an object of desire for millions of young women. They all wanted me then and forever.’ His sexual exploits become legendary, as no woman could satisfy his need for love until an encounter with a woman who leaves just as quickly as she drops her panties. It is a cue to a remarkable romp that scarcely draws a breath from beginning to end. En route wildly eccentric characters fight for attention, the manager figure Avraham Shtil, the ‘Satanic Doctor’ who was once a member of the SS, Sophia Lorenzo, ‘the most beautiful woman ever’ all woven into a plot so wonderfully implausible that only Atzmon’s scatological wit manages to hold it together.
Like A Guide To The Perplexed, this is compulsive stuff, albeit more
darker than the biting satire of his first novel. It’s a journey
that involves murder, sexual manipulation, viral infection and espionage
that are used to safeguard the security of Israel and propagate German
guilt. But above all it is a study of identity that ruthlessly pokes fun
at Israeli politics. It’s so good it will probably be banned in
Israel.
Stuart Nicholson
Gilad Atzmon - My One And Only Love
Zoe Street
Saturday 2 April 2005
http://www.fly.co.uk/fly/archives/2005/04/gilad_atzmon_my_one_and_only_love.html
Fly casts an eye over the latest book from world-acclaimed multi-reed giant Gilad Atzmon, and unleashes a tornado of wit, emotion, espionage…and, for once, jazz.
The left-field genius of jazz star Gilad Atzmon appears to know no bounds. One of the most creative musicians around, his insight into world politics is sharp and his writing prolific, but he also has a gift that is rare in the often po-faced sphere of jazz, literature and politics — he’s funny.
My One And Only Love is Atzmon’s second book since the critically lauded Guide To The Perplexed hit the shelves in 2001, and fans of his music will be thrilled to learn that this book does actually concern jazz, unlike much of his writing to date.
But fear not, he is as outrageous in his mocking of Zionist politics as he was in his first book, now banned in Israel, (a triumph for Atzmon). Let’s not underestimate the importance of this social commentator.
We meet Danny Zilber, a fading jazz superstar long after his heyday, with one incredible gift: he can bring women to orgasm with a single note from his trumpet. But this is no comfort: he is tortured throughout the years by the memory of his mysterious lost love.
A succession of multi-faceted, engaging and often unscrupulous characters follow, some reminiscing from behind bars, casting glimpses of light on manipulation, greed and even murder.
Atzmon fuses a stinging satire on Israeli politics with insane sexual exploits to glittering effect.
Wild, hilarious, intelligent and often touching, you will read it in
one go with breath held and heart racing. And then you will read it again,
because you won’t want it to end. Just don’t forget to breathe.
My One and Only Love - Gilad Atzmon
(Saqi Books, 2005)
Reviewed by Steve Baxter
http://www.123webpages.co.uk/user/index.php?user=jazzview&pn=1120202
love My first reaction on hearing that Gilad Atzmon had written a second novel was to wonder how he does it. At the time this was a simple expression of bemusement at his ability to fit in what to some people is a full-time occupation alongside his other activities: gigging, rehearsing and recording, as well as writing polemical articles on politics, culture and philosophy. Now, having read the book, an alternative, more literal, meaning of the question occurs to me. Given that English isn’t his first language, how does he actually go about the process of writing a literary work? His first book, A Guide to the Perplexed, was translated (presumably from Hebrew) but there’s no indication of that here.
One answer that suggests itself lies in the way the novel is constructed. It is supposedly based on biographical research conducted by one Bird Stringshtein (don’t let the name fool you - he dislikes jazz and is described as “definitely not a brilliant musician”). The book is composed almost entirely of transcripts of a series of interviews conducted by Bird with three main characters: a shy Israeli trumpeter called Danny Zilber, briefly but spectacularly popular in the 1960’s; Sabrina (aka Elza), the Mata Hari figure who enters Danny’s life briefly but cataclysmically, giving the novel its title; and Avrum Shtil, impresario and self-proclaimed “all-time number one Jewish showbiz tycoon”. This structure allows the author to hide behind his three mouthpieces, and as none of them has English as a mother tongue, the main requirement is that their voices remain consistent. Thus Danny is the eternal innocent idealist, his descriptions of even the most intimate moments lapsing into hackneyed soft-porn clichés like “I kissed every millimeter of her snowy flesh”. Sabrina, by contrast, has the knowing but still vulnerable tone of experience and tragedy.
It’s Avrum’s voice that dominates, though. The man is an irresistible monster - a crude, ruthless, self-aggrandising bully, described by Danny as “a kind of street animal motivated by pure instinct and greed” who “even in Hebrew ... speaks a language entirely of his own.” The language in question is a mix of Jackie Mason and Tony Soprano. To give a flavour, here is Avrum describing the first stirrings of his grand musical idea: “I thought to myself, now I must come with a final punch. Something that will fuck the whole world up the arse. Check it out, just there while I was thinking about it I started to see prime numbers rolling in my brain, you know wha’a mean, like 1, 3, 5, 7, 11, 12, 13 14, 15, 16 ... I love the prime numbers. They are so united they remind me of the Jews coz nobody except themselves can interfere and divide them at all.” His plan is to make music that mines the German capacity for self-recrimination, that will “make the Germans cry like crazy and feel shit about themselves ... and get them to say ‘sorry’ big time.” Or, as Danny puts it, “Avrum was the first to recognise the commercial potential of the Shoah. He was the first to understand how to transform German guilt into gold.”
To appreciate the layers of irony in all this, it helps to know something about the author’s own position and background. As a musician, he is a passionate opponent of the commercialisation of music. He left his native Israel (or Isra-hell as he is apt to call it) in reaction to treatment of the Palestinians and to pursue his studies in German philosophy. He is a committed anti-Zionist and self-proclaimed “obsessed Germano–phile”. All this adds to the often outrageous humour of this book, and (perhaps) allows him to get away with stuff that others would think twice about saying. In one episode, for example, Avrum is asked by a secret Zionist organisation to hide Dr. Ingelberg, a kidnapped Nazi war criminal clearly based on Josef Mengele. He is to be kept safe as he is “the rock of Jewish existence” without whom “the whole Jewish nation might lose its way”. Ingelberg’s liking for pork sausages presents a problem until Zionist researchers come up with the solution: a kosher pig. “Can you believe it?” asks Avrum, “A circumsized pig, with cloven feet and two stomachs ... wearing a skull cap. In other words the pig was more Jewish than the Chief Ashkenazi Rabbi.” As you can see, politically correct it most certainly isn’t.
Clearly there are political points being made here, but the sly humour that undercuts nearly everything, along with the reckless, gleeful mingling of history and fantasy, makes it hard at times to distinguish the serious from the satirical, the polemical from the comical. This emerges clearly in the glossary at the back, which is a source of fun in itself. Secreted among the straightforward definitions of Hebrew and Arabic terms and historical and mock-historical names, you find more barbed entries like the ones for kosher (“Jewish dietary regulations guaranteeing zero assimilation”) or goy (“Gentile. As a derogatory term, confers inferiority on anyone who fails to be Jewish”).
Those looking for an insight into the music will also have to cut their way through a lot of satirical and at times downright farcical undergrowth. Bird isn’t the only one who dislikes jazz. If all his other attitudes weren’t enough to put you off him, Avrum’s pronouncements on jazz (and race) are likely to be the final straw for anyone reading this: “I don’t understand this music at all. Everyone comes on stage with a dustbin full with stupido funny notes and pours it on the innocent audience as if they are a rubbish dump. For me jazz isn’t music, it is a collective punishment. When I listen to this horrible music it always makes me angry. And beside that, the black colour really annoys me when it comes on people and please don’t ask me why. On cars and horses, no problem.” Danny, on the other hand, is a long-time fan and would-be practitioner of jazz. From an early age he has loved all the greats of the music and improvises chorus after chorus with his fellow members of the Israeli military band. The problem is his swing: “I used to practise for hours with the metronome tapping on two and four, but I never really got there.” This, I suspect, is another little joke, but Danny’s innocent dedication is touched with tragedy too. The arrival of bop is the last straw for Danny, and his reaction is probably similar to that of a lot of real players at the time: “That was it, it was very depressing. They were far too good. I didn’t even know where to start to encompass their ideas, they were inhuman.”
As for the plot itself, it involves music business hype, in-fighting among Zionist groups, plots to smuggle arms and people in the cases of “Gulliver violins” and copious quantities of sex in various levels of perversity, the latter usually described in a tone of detached amusement. In describing the content and style of both this book and its predecessor, it seems to be standard procedure to mention Portnoy’s Complaint, but, especially in their tendency to elevate a simple idea into a grand academic theory or world view, the possible influence that came more forcibly to my mind was The Dice Man, Luke Reinhart’s cult book from the sixties. Whatever its influences, it’s an enjoyable and thought-provoking read, liberally scattered (as you may have gathered) with rich humour that runs the gamut from farcical and mischievous through sarcastic to darkly ironic. So, as Avrum himself would say, the keys are in the ignition (just to let you know that the book is out now and available to buy). And you won’t get that last sentence till you’ve read it.
THE HANDSTAND
Review: Gilad Atzmon's second novel is now out.
Jocelyn Braddell
Of the many constructions and places for the narrator that novels adopt Atzmon has, in both cases taken up an outsider's inspection of documents; or in this second volume, that of a feature writer researching his material; both are confidants of "found" material entrusted to them, and thus to us. The reader too, can take a perspective that is not unlike, evidently, a glance in the mirror for the modern jew, or the keyhole perspective that invites the reader to think about things unseen, out of line with the viewpoint..
His previous book A Guide for the Perplexed on the papers and letters of Gunther Wanker a Professor of Voyeurism, illustrated the cover with a keyhole perspective, the author with his eye on us..., a method of reminiscence and thoughtfulness, you will remember, that Albert Moravia used in his famous book The Voyeur. Atzmon's first volume reminds one, if one has time to react after experiencing a hilarious read, that it is not on the periphery of all the vulgar tortuous sexual novels of the last twenty or thirty years, but takes sights on a target, not only by virtue of its pseudo-serious poise of interest, but a particular interest in sex, (that will sell well as they all say), because it's satyrical descriptions of sex devastate with massive humour all the pornography that has sold those hundreds of recent novels by new and famous writers, who now-a-days describe detailed sex liasons of every kind. Wether Mr. Atzmon makes any headway with his readers as a philosopher, or only as a popular novelist, it is difficult to say, as those I know who read it refuse to discuss the book, and one even laid it aside after a muted read without laughter; but it is certain sure that this new volume, My One and Only Love revels not only in the mercurial temperament of its main character, Avrum Shtil, a music agent, but also in the bewildering logic of a loving man, that of Danny Zilber, the star musician, from which a certain existential philosophy emerges. With reference to sexual mores that reflect on the previous volume Avrum casts a line at one point to distil the vulgarity of this jewish misdemeanor, or preference as I might describe it, saying, Why does he kiss her bum? Is he a fuckin' dog? .
It is the political narrative that holds these crazy characters together, involved with Mossad and Israeli military government scandals of one kind or another, spying or gun-running, that provoke in the storyteller parallel lines of philosophy, stronger by virtue of the rapid and transcendent reality of scenes from which they emerge than they would ever be as serious philosophical dissertations given as lectures on our shame and moral depravity.This paragraph from A Guide to the Perplexed might set the tone....
I remember the bed-space wrapped in the fragrant vapours of desire, recalling the aroma of rubber tyres scorched by emergency stops....As memory comes, as my life turns over and turns into a chisel constantly at work in me, I realise that nostalgia is the longing for missed experience. Experience that remained hidden at the time, unexploited. I am coming to understand the cruelty that lurks at the foundation of existence; just at this moment, as the exultant fragrance of spring is rising in my imagination, my flesh is filled with the musty smell of autumn. And perhaps this is the reward of existence: it gives to every axiom an untimely spell of validity, rejuvenation following decrepitude.
There is example of that cruel indifference to life and death in My One and Only Love that has become the template of our times in the political world. The incompetence within political vision is examined here in the root commonsense of the actual fix, how it works, how it is carried out, and who by ; this fix that is always in the "national interest", the fix, or the stroke as we call it here in Ireland. A fix that is dependent on a plan, a framework of events and timing. Timing is the measure of the musician and this one, Danny Zilber, has become knotted in another alien timing of incident that can never be compatible with a performance: love. But it is this love, a strangely indefinable love, that hangs over the entire book with its tangent to all the action that tightens the tension from beginning to end.
DannyZilber believes in a love, a monogamous perfect love, that maybe a certain type of woman would understand. What type? Someone like Sabrina who does not even know herself and walks like a thoughtful child through the adult world, someone who, thinking about the man in her life could make a telepathic bridge between existence and silence. A love that is not tested by reality, a love that nevertheless is the entire reason for the existence of the music of entertainment, a love that no singer or solo artist really requires ,except as a stimulant to further the pain of anxiety that love in this world must really cause. A perfect political distraction reverberating in the minds of the millions of a lost youth, of songs that touch that note, that chord, where the crazy fringes of hysterical girls, fringes of petticoats that Rimbaud the poet wrote of, that he would tumble and tear aside, cloud the stage, with their snowstorms of knickers, or thongs,that these girls throw estatically in the air. But let us smile, songs that thousands would pay good money to hear, to profit the middleman, the expensive screams, the pay out for the hallucination of existence, in order to forget the remorseless logic of time.
As Avrum makes clear: I had there a big combina that goes far beyond the horizon of beauty of the music...for me, most important is the action, not the talking. Never argue with success.... Another combina elicits: Simply it was like a football match and Italian Operas for the price of a single ticket. This man, Avrum Shtill, the most outspoken, truthful, foul mouthed bond of energy and enterprise is the real hero of this book. There is nothing that someone else can imagine that he cannot reproduce to perfection, but also with profit. There is no difficulty that he cannot overcome, or person whom he cannot remove or cause to capitulate to emergency, or tactic, either political or sensual; nothing that he balks to provide. Another great read, thanks Gilad.
Jocelyn Braddell©
David
vs Goliath - the remix
An interview with Gilad Atzmon
by Simon Jones
