A Bottle in the Gaza Sea

“He believed in it, my father. And, as I believe everything he tells me, that at least made two of us who saw white doves flying through the skies above Jerusalem that day.”

Tal concludes her description of her parents’ hopes for peace in September 1993. The doves, a universal symbol of peace, show their faith that peace would soon come to Jerusalem. Moreover, Tal’s assertion that she saw the doves with her father affirms that she sees the world through his hopeful perspective.

“‘Hey, you two gossips, this isn’t the market, is it? You can sharpen your forked tongues after my lesson, please.’

I hate teachers who think that chatty girls are gossips and chatty boys just need to let off a bit of steam. […] But it just shows that female solidarity doesn’t stand up to a misogynist teacher’s bad jokes.”

Caught talking to Efrat in class, Tal is resentful of her teacher’s admonition. This characterizes her as someone willing to question authority and unwilling to be hemmed in by gender stereotypes or unfair perceptions. Ironically, the idiom of the “forked tongue” is used in many cultures to describe a person who says one thing and does another, which is what Tal is doing as she lies to Efrat about the contents of her letter.

“Shlomi, our class representative, said history lessons should be banned, especially in times of conflict, because they sap morale too much.”

Tal shares this remark after describing her teacher’s lesson on the 20th century as the bloodiest in history. It demonstrates some people’s unwillingness to learn from the mistakes of the past in the name of “morale,” and to shield themselves from any uncomfortable truths that might not align with their perception of the world or their belief in their own rightness. While Tal doesn’t overtly refute this view, she proceeds to write more about the history of the 20th century, and then asks Naïm what he plans to do with the 21st, signaling her distinct interest in the past and the perspectives of others.

“He could already picture the girls in their swimsuits on lounge chairs, a promenade planted with palm trees and bougainvillea, little cafes serving leben, carob juice, fig juice, and mint tea.”

Naïm journals on what he was thinking about before he found Tal’s letter in the bottle, which was all the hopes his father held about the possibility of peace in 1993. There is dramatic irony in the fact that their journaled reflections illustrate similar recollections, which is unknown to the two characters. The happy scene, never to be realized, connects with the motif of dreams and the theme of Hope Versus Despair.

“Nowadays no one’s surprised by the idea of people killing others by taking their own lives, but at the time everyone kept asking: how can it be possible?”

Tal writes this in an email to Naïm, recalling the assassination of Yitzhak Rabin and the violence that ensued, including the first suicide bombings. It conveys the way people become numb to violence that once seemed unfathomable, and to accept that “that’s the way it is” as she says later in her email. Tal’s inability to understand how someone could willingly take their own life and the lives of those around them without any sympathy or pity further develops her deep sense of empathy and desire to see things from others’ perspectives.

“I remember it all, in minute detail. When I think back to it I know it was that moment that made me want to make films.”

Tal describes the devastation of the people she saw around her following Rabin’s assassination. That this event was the inciting moment in her goal suggests a desire to make sense out of chaos, and her belief in The Power of Storytelling and Communication. Only by relating huge events such as this one to others can she make sense of them or help others see the world from her perspective.

“I’m writing to you but that doesn’t mean we’re friends, okay? We haven’t tended sheep together is an understatement.”

Naïm attempts to keep Tal at a distance, using a colloquialism to suggest they have no shared experiences or friendly background. It develops his deliberately nonchalant and dismissive tone. However, in the following paragraph, Naïm admits that he also remembers Rabin’s assassination with sadness and regret, suggesting he does recognize some shared experiences between them.

“To anyone who loves us without knowing us or who loathes us without knowing us, we’re never one + one + one, but the whole four million. We all carry our whole people on our backs and it’s so, so heavy, it’s crushing, it just makes you want to close your eyes.”

Naïm elaborates on the ways people turn Palestinians into stereotypes and “caricatures,” and the emotional weight it puts on people. His phrasing applies the motif of math to emphasize the differences between individuals and the geopolitical pluralization of “the Palestinians.” He also draws an equivalence between loving someone without knowing and loathing someone without knowing them, suggesting both motivations are wrong.

“If you were, say, Australian and I were Norwegian, we could write to each other without ever getting angry–there’s been no conflict between Australia and Norway to date, as far as I know. But maybe they’ve got a bit less to say to one another.”

Tal points out the irony of The Impact of Geopolitical Conflict on Individual Lives. Her comment shows that they are only enemies because of where they were born, yet the fact of where they were born also gives them much in common. Unlike people born in two distant but peaceful countries, she suggests, they have quite a lot they could say to one another.

“I’ve formed a connection with a shadow and it’s turning me into a bundle of nerves, making me laugh one minute and then hurting me the next, and I can’t tell anyone about it.”

Tal confronts The Complexities of Identity and Belonging in a Divided Society, noting the way her correspondence with Naïm has affected her relationships with those closest to her. Because she cannot tell them about the emails and because she does not know for certain who Naïm is, or even whether he is a real person or a shadow, she feels constantly unsettled. It also speaks to the roller coaster of emotions she describes which is part of living in a divided society.

“It all seems so far away, I thought. Not far away like an inaccessible dream, but like a nightmare you’re relieved not to be going through yourself.”

Tal describes seeing violence at the Khan Younes camp on the news and emails Naïm to explain that she is worried about him. The motif of dreams and nightmares in these lines conveys the theme of Hope Versus Despair, as she compares two different forms of unreality: one which has not yet happened, but she wishes would, and one which has happened but feels distant because it happened to someone else.

“I must be the only Palestinian in Gaza who’s got someone worrying about them on the other side. UNESCO should have me classified as a historical monument or a world heritage site. They should film me and show me to the whole world as something rare and precious.”

Naïm marvels at Tal’s concern for him, using hyperbole and irony to emphasize how rare it is for an Israeli to see and care about an individual Palestinian. Behind the exaggeration, he reveals a larger truth, that her feelings are rare and precious to him and that the kind of empathy she shows should be viewed this way by the world.

“You conquered the territories we were living in and ever since then we dream of our own independence a bit more fiercely every day. And yes, I know, some people dream of your destruction. But not all. I don’t think that’s out of kindness, though. Do you think kindness has anything to do with politics?”

Naïm’s exposition about the impacts of the Six-Day War provides more historical context and develops the theme of The Impact of Geopolitical Conflict on Individual Lives. By separating kindness from politics, he makes explicit the disregard that the large sides of a conflict can have for the actual lives involved. His reference to the motif of dreams also suggests that people’s dreams can carry both hope and despair.

“Viewed from that side of the valley, Old Town looks very sure of itself, completely calm, a long, long way from all those men fighting over it. For a few moments I tried to imagine what Jerusalem would be like with no inhabitants, with just the stone houses, the light, the warmth, the smells. It made my head spin.”

Tal’s observation reiterates her father’s belief that scenery and history can give people a sense of perspective and that people often lose sight of the bigger picture. The vivid imagery demonstrates her faith in the power of storytelling, as well as her love for the city.

“I finished off with a game of Tetris, which is a bit like a scan of my own brain at the moment: there are falling blocks that you have to try and line up in orderly rows, then the full rows disappear and leave room for more bricks.”

The simile in these lines reveals Naïm’s state of mind after receiving Tal’s email and seeing her picture. It conveys the sense that every time he makes sense of the world and his own thoughts, something else comes crashing in, and he must deal with a new kind of chaos all over again.

“You said you were going to go there this morning, to see your grandparents. That’s a problem. What I mean is, I would have a problem if anything happened to you. I don’t know the others. Dead or alive, they don’t matter to me.”

Naïm reaches out to Tal after hearing about the explosion in Rehavia. His concern for her mirrors her concern for him earlier in the novel. By admitting that he would have a problem if anything happened to her, he is in a small way confessing his feelings and demonstrating the power of connection. He also reveals a basic truth about human perceptions of geopolitical conflict: Because he knows Tal, she is an individual to him; because he does not know the other people, he cannot care about them as individuals.

“I’m beginning to understand that there are some kinds of pain that can’t be shared. […] That’s a bit stupid, what I just wrote. I was worried about him too and just him.”

Tal expresses despair in the wake of the bombing because Naïm says he only cares about her, not about the others who were affected. She worries that her pain is hers alone. Then she realizes that she had a similar perspective when she believed he might be hurt, and that it does not demonstrate indifference to the violence but attachment to her.

“I wanted to prolong the impression that we weren’t in Gaza, I wanted them to take me away, to tell me about their countries, about England and Italy, and what their lives were like.

And they did take me away, Tal. […] People walk around, sit on the grass, eat ice cream or popcorn, in families, in couples, or on their own. They read or chat or kiss, living their lives without worrying that some missile’s going to land on them, without the radio announcing twice as much bad news as the day before, or a phone call telling them a brother, a cousin, or a friend has been injured or killed.”

Naïm’s description of his dinner with Willy and Paolo conveys his desire to escape The Impact of Geopolitical Conflicts on Individual Lives and find a sense of belonging somewhere else. The note that people can do things with others or on their own is particularly notable in relation to Naïm’s life, as he always feels ostracized for his status as an only child who likes being alone and realizes there are places where that would not happen. The narrative he relates to her demonstrates The Power of Storytelling and Communication to give him that opportunity, however briefly.

“I want to gather myself together again, I’m like a ball of mercury that’s broken up into tiny frantic little pieces. And it’s all the Palestinians’ fault because they don’t want peace, they hate us, and all they care about is killing us. No it’s not, it’s our fault because for years we’ve refused them the right to their own state, but by what right do we refuse them that right? I’m getting bogged down, I’m floundering.”

Tal’s comparison of her brain to mercury scattering into little pieces provides a vivid image of her thoughts and feelings. The ricochet motion of her thoughts conveys the theme of Hope Versus Despair as she tries to make sense of the larger conflict and its impact on her as an individual. Her declaration that she is bogged down and floundering when she tries to find a solution shows her loss of hope for peace and reconciliation.

“I managed to put two whole sentences together for John Lennon. ‘I somehow escaped death. And the thought of it keeps me awake.’”

Tal’s reference to her therapist as John Lennon reflects the purpose of his job, which is to bring her some kind of inner peace. (Lennon’s “Imagine” encourages listeners to think about a world in which there are no wars, politics, or religions.) Her inability to sleep shows that she has entered a mindset in which she has given up on both hope and despair, where she will experience neither dreams nor nightmares.

“Ori’s sister brought it back from Thailand for me a year ago. It’s got big black birds on it, just about to take flight, but they never actually fly. There are also clumps of flowers, not flowers that I’ve ever seen, and no one here knows what they’re called.”

The birds on the umbrella are stuck in place in the same way that Tal and Naïm feel the ongoing conflict has kept them both stuck in one place, each yearning to take flight in their own way. Her description of the flowers that she has never seen recalls Naïm’s comment that he has never seen a squirrel, suggesting that for both characters, the only way to learn more about the world is to “take flight” and experience it firsthand.

“As we walked he whispered, ‘Keep all your dreams intact, Tal. Dreams are what get us somewhere. Don’t stop believing and wanting what you’ve always wanted…whether that’s making films or peace or whatever.’”

Tal’s father’s words reiterate the sentiment and wording in the novel’s epigraph, that dreams must remain “intact” because they propel us forward. Through the motif, the author brings the novel full circle and emphasizes the importance of hope, and of hoping for the right things.

“Every morning and every evening I felt I was going through an invisible curtain and crossing from one dimension into another. Gaza, Tel Aviv. Tel Aviv, Gaza. How can I describe what separates the two cities?”

Naïm’s narrative expresses The Complexities of Identity and Belonging in a Divided Society. As he passes through a metaphorical divide that at times becomes a physical barrier, he considers all that makes the two places similar and different and finds that both offer people and things that feel like home to him.