About This Book
Journalist Leon Abramowitz never intended to immigrate to Palestine. Yet in 1922, four years after he was sent there from Europe to report on the lives of the pioneers, he discovers that the editor who dispatched him has run off with half of the paper's money, leaving Leon forgotten in The Promised Wilderness. This chain of events opens The World a Moment Later, which tells the story of Abramowitz and his two children. One son stays in Europe, while the other, young Haim Abramowitz, joins his father in Palestine, heading a group of orange pickers and destined to become a legend in his time. This is also the story of Yehezkel Klein, an ex-underground activist who wanted to be a "regular" Zionist but finds himself instead taking a vow of protest against his country-to never to leave his home; Lev Gutkin, a handsome Russian who arrives in Israel with a smoking gun after his long-standing plan to assassinate Stalin is thwarted when Stalin dies; David Bonhoeffer, a righteous nomad who tends to poor souls who have been neglected even by the Social Services; the late Naomi Riklin, who still controls the life of Doctor Riklin, healer of the infertile; Rivka Abramowitz, who eats only lemons and spices, and Shmuel Klein, a medal of honor-wearer who is an electrician by profession and a pyromaniac by hobby. The World a Moment Later is the shadow book of the official Zionist lexicon. It is the book of those who were forgotten by the national narrative of Israel, collected here to be remembered. These are the people who did not enter the encyclopedias, but still, their lives contributed anger, wisdom, despair, frustration, bitterness, malice and endless love to the country. This is a fully-fledged humanistic novel which respects the myths of Theodor Herzl and Ze'ev Jabotinsky, but nonetheless is dedicated to the anonymous masses. It stems simultaneously from realism and fantasy, and provides an in-depth exploration of the question: what are we doing here? Translated by Jessica Cohen from the Hebrew HaOlam, Ktsat Achar-kach.
