Perhaps I’ve just read too much Israeli history and lit to really appreciate this book. It started out quite well, lovely really, with the personal stories of Oz’s early life in Jerusalem. But the general impression is so very much like the other autobiographical novels and memoirs I’ve read re Israel that it got old and repetitious after a short time. The main difference here is that Oz writes better than most – Meir Shalev excepted (the Blue Mountain).
About 1/3 of Oz’s book is interesting or amusing – something. I suppose those parts generally have to do with his own development from Zionist upbringing and the difficulties of his parents in Jerusalem to the kibbutz years. (?). >>>>MORE>>>>