It's called Mission Impossible, not Mission Difficult
September 26, 2004
While looking for background info on an article I was working on I found this by Sami Michael (Mikhail). I sat there thinking, "Hm, hm,hm. Why do I know this name?" I scrolled through the article and found a picture and then it hit me that I actually met Mr. Mikhail last year at Penn when he came to give a lecture about...well, I've forgotten the topic now. I remember the rest of that night very well though. It was a bit cold and rainy out, and I arrived at the old Hillel building feeling totally weird walking in there.
[Oh, this is a long side-note but I remember the first time I went into the Hillel building. It was my junior year at Penn when I went with a fellow Arab-American to "infiltrate" a meeting called by the Israeli consular in Philadelphia to discuss ways to counteract the street plays that the Arab Students' Society would be putting on in protest of Israel Day which is held at Penn in early April, though celebrated around the world in May. Matt and I just sat in on that meeting, right out in the open, because everyone assumed we were concerned Jews/Zionists. I guess with our prominent noses, and Jew-froey hair it's not hard to think so. If it hadn't been for the fact that I invited my freaky, goth-looking ex along we would have been totally inconspicous. Hah. Good times. Good times.]
Anyway, going to any largely Jewish event is always weird for me because I always feel like I stick out, but even weirder for me is the fact that I almost never do. "A Jew, but not a Jew. Ach du." (5 points to anyone who gets that reference. But only 5, because it really isn't that hard especially not for this literary audience). So back to Sami Mikhail. I went in there. It was a rainy night. The room was crowded with lots of Jews, and no other Arabs. Ok, maybe one other Arab, who came in just as I was leaving. They were all there to see Iraqi-born Israeli writer Sami Michael. I'm sure he probably discussed his moderately-famous novel, A Trumpet in the Wadi which was made into a film in 2002, and has become one of those things they show often at Arab/Israeli coexistence events. I remember he showed slides. So maybe he was talking about his childhood? And memory? Because part of the reason I was at the lecture was because it was partly organized by my favorite Israeli Lit professor with whom I had taken a class about childhood and memory in Israeli literature. Anyway, there he was. He talked about being an Arab-born writer in Israel. He talked about how that set him apart, but about how he had managed to "make it" anyway. I at least remember that much. I probably have notes on that lecture somewhere at home.
I'm always fascinated by people who have controversial backgrounds. I love Israeli novels written by so-called "Oriental" Jews. Alternately, I also love novels and poems written by Arab Israelis, who write in Hebrew. Which reminds me that there is a poem sitting at home that I've been meaning to translate for a while. Maybe I'll get started on it tonight, and share it here sometime.
In the meantime, check out Sami Mikhail's article which offers an interesting, though not terribly earth-shattering, perspective on the reason why the Arab-Israeli conflict is neverending.