Yesterday’s New York Times Magazine contained a heartbreaking essay by Israeli novelist David Grossman about writing after his son Uri was killed in last summer’s Lebanon war.
I write. In wake of the death of my son Uri last summer in the war between Israel and Lebanon, the awareness of what happened has sunk into every cell of mine. The power of memory is indeed enormous and heavy, and at times has a paralyzing quality to it. Nevertheless, the act of writing itself at this time creates for me a type of “space,� a mental territory that I’ve never experienced before, where death is not only the absolute and one-dimensional negation of life.
