I went to my grandmother, your great-great-grandmother, and asked her to write a letter. She was my mother's mother. Your father's mother's mother's mother. I hardly knew her. I didn't have any interest in knowing her. I have no need for the past, I thought, like a child. I did not consider that the past might have a need for me.
What kind of letter? my grandmother asked.
I told her to write whatever she wanted to write.
You want a letter from me? she asked.
I told her yes.
Oh, God bless you, she said.
The letter she gave me was sixty-seven pages long. It was the story of her life. She made my request into her own. Listen to me.
We are not long-term beings. Not heroes of romances in many volumes. For one gesture, for one word alone, we shall make the effort. We openly admit: our creations will be temporary. We shall have this as our aim: a gesture.
Jonathan Safran FoerBut there was always work to be done. We spent our lives making livings.
Jonathan Safran FoerI regret how much I believed in the future.
Jonathan Safran FoerIn truth I was manufacturing a brick wall of shits.
Jonathan Safran FoerThe dream that
we are our fathers. I walked to the Brod,
41
without knowing why, and looked into
my reflection in the water. I couldn’t look
away. What was the image that pulled me
in after it? What was it that I loved? And
then I recognized it. So simple. In the
water I saw my father’s face, and that face
saw the face of its father, and so on, and so
on, reflecting backward to the beginning
of time, to the face of God, in whose
image we were created. We burned with
love for ourselves, all of us, starters of
the fire we suffered—our love was the affliction
for which only our love was the
cure . . .
Mots clés father
I walked into a bakery seven years later and there he was. He had dogs at his feet and a bird in a cage beside him. The seven years were not seven years. They were not seven hundred years. Their length could not be measured in years, just as an ocean could not explain the distance we had traveled, just as the dead can never be counted. I wanted to run away from him, and I wanted to go right up to him.
Jonathan Safran FoerHe couldn't bear to live, but he couldn't bear to die. He couldn't bear the thought of he making love to someone else, but neither could he bear the absence of the thought. And as for the note, he couldn't bear to keep it, but he couldn't bear to destroy it either.
Jonathan Safran FoerShe wanted nothing more than someone to miss, to touch, with whom to speak like a child, with whom to be a child.
Jonathan Safran FoerMots clés love
Given that eating animals is in absolutely no way necessary for my family — unlike some in the world, we have easy access to a wide variety of other foods — should we ear animals?
Jonathan Safran FoerMots clés vegetarianism
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