Product Description

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #263271 in Books
• Published on: 2005-02-01
• Released on: 2005-01-13
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Paperback
• 352 pages

From The New Yorker
In Grossman's latest novel, which tumbles along the dusty streets of Jerusalem, adolescent idealism and angst keep the characters on the move. Assaf, a shy misfit, embarks upon a quixotic journey with a lost dog to find its mistress. Tamar, a caustic fifteen-year-old who can sing Mozart and Leonard Cohen on demand, runs away from home to find the criminals who have ensnared her older brother. A young street musician, in the grip of a heroin habit as formidable as his talent, stumbles through his routines with death close behind. The resulting picaresque is a cross between "Run Lola Run" and "Oliver Twist," and as the reader waits for these solitary odysseys to intersect, the urgency becomes almost unbearable. Grossman evokes teen-age nobility and self-hatred in all its pimply particularity, while slyly suggesting that the arduous quest for connections should never be outgrown.
Copyright © 2005 The New Yorker

From The Washington Post

Reading a novel in translation, it's been said, is like eating a boiled strawberry. Readers of Someone to Run With, the new novel by Israeli writer David Grossman, may well wonder: What on earth was this, before it hit the water? Grossman is widely known, and much respected, for his intricate novels of modern Israeli life. By contrast, Someone to Run With has a hook that seems tailor-made for a young adult readership: two Jerusalem teens on the run in that city's underworld, one looking to save her brother from drug addiction, the other to find the owner of a lost dog. They're an appealing duo -- trio, counting the dog -- and the novel's converging plotlines provide an atmosphere of romantic predestination that's no less engaging for being thoroughly predictable.

Yet the novel seems puzzlingly at odds with itself. Despite its YA storyline, it's a dense text, often ponderously descriptive, both in the presentation of its setting and in the degree of moment-to-moment psychological detail limning its characters. This makes for slow going, particularly in the novel's early chapters, where the chronology is elaborately scrambled.

Compounding these difficulties, crucial information is delayed so far into the tale that, for nearly half of its tightly packed 343 pages, the two characters' separate journeys through the city exist in narrative suspension. We know, for instance, that the girl Tamar, who has left her family for life on the streets, has stocked a cave in the countryside with food and other supplies. But we have no idea why. The effect is the same kind of false suspense favored by writers of popular crime and courtroom novels: As readers we're asked to remain engaged by events that everyone understands but us.

Grossman's novel has won a number of prestigious literary prizes, both in Israel and Europe, and in the book's defense, there's much to praise. At bottom, Grossman has written an urban adventure story, and he sets it in motion like a pro. As the novel begins, 16-year-old Assaf, a summer employee of the city's sanitation department whose parents have been called away to the United States, is charged with finding the owner of a lost dog.

As a narrative catalyst, a high-spirited Labrador retriever is hard to beat. Dragged pell-mell through the Jerusalem streets, Assaf lurches from one picaresque encounter to another, gradually assembling a portrait of the dog's missing owner, the troubled and mysterious Tamar, whom he becomes bent on rescuing.

Tamar, we learn, is on a mission of her own. She's left her home, disguised herself with a severe haircut, and taken up life as a street singer. A lot is hazy, but gradually the shape of her plan emerges: She hopes to attract the attention of a Fagan-like figure named Pesach, in the hope that he will lead her to her missing brother, a heroin-addicted musician.

Their twin quests -- Assaf's for Tamar, Tamar's for her brother -- offer a portrait of the teenage mind that's both refreshingly noble and convincingly observed. When Tamar finally infiltrates Pesach's organization and catches sight of the brother she hopes, against all odds, to save, she experiences a blast of self-confidence that perfectly captures the adolescent's largeness of feeling for the world: "Something new had happened to her: the unfamiliar winds of tranquility blew through her . . . . It would probably disappear in a minute -- but she would treasure it always, she would remember that place in her body where she felt it, where it was created, and would try to return there." At such moments, we can feel these two young people stepping into life.

This spell is broken, unfortunately, by a string of peculiarities within the text. In contrast to the subtle rendering of Grossman's adolescent characters, nearly all the adults in the book read like hastily sketched cartoons. This occurs most glaringly in the dialogue, especially in scenes of violent confrontation, when the translation assumes a weirdly lock-step literalness. A pair of street toughs threatens to "sexually abuse" Assaf and taunts him by asking "What's the matter, sister? We didn't drink our chocolate milk today? Mom ran out of Gerber food?" When Tamar narrowly escapes being caught making an illicit phone call from Pesach's office, his threats seem less menacing than badly dubbed: "You got lucky this time," he cautions. "It stinks to the sky, but you got lucky. Now open up your ears real good . . . one more time, if you so much as tickle the edge of my edge, you're finished." I couldn't help but think that in the next moment he would assume the preying mantis pose and say, "I must warn you, my Kung Fu is very good."

These idiomatic misfires -- and they're disconcertingly plentiful -- badly hamstring the novel, undercutting the seriousness of its themes with bursts of inadvertent hilarity. No less unconvincing is the book's denouement, a creaky deus ex machina.

I was left wondering who the novel was meant for. Adult readers with the patience to span the wide waters of its slower sections? Or teenagers, who would so closely identify with the main characters that they could pardon the book's hokier moments?

The answer is neither. Someone to Run With is best suited to one audience: readers of the original Hebrew.

Reviewed by Justin Cronin

Copyright 2004, The Washington Post Co. All Rights Reserved.

From Booklist
Very different from Grossman's books of political commentary, this entertaining novel is more like his Zigzag Kid (1997), part urban survival adventure, part YA romance, and part mystery. A best-seller in Israel and translated from the Hebrew in an informal, relaxed style, the story weaves together the lives of two middle-class teens who find themselves in Jerusalem's violent drug underworld. Tamar, a talented singer, runs away from home with her beloved dog, shaves her head, sets up a hideout. Who is she searching for? Why is she on the run? When she loses her dog, awkward, shy teenager Assaf finds the stray lab, who then leads him on a wild chase across the city until they find Tamar. The mob violence is too easily resolved, but the many plot surprises about "unconscious messengers" are fun, even when they are awkwardly contrived. For many readers, the most memorable character will be the lost dog, who always knows where he is going, who he is, and whom he loves. Hazel Rochman
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved

Customer Reviews

amazing book
This book has to be among the best I've ever read. Too bad that it was originally written in Hebrew, and no one outside of Israel has heard of it. In this country, many teenagers and adults have read it, all have heard of it, and everyone I know loved it. I'm saying this not because I think the popularity of a book is the only mark of its quality, but because Someone to Run With has absolutely no other reviews on this site and I feel as though I should write in the name of all the Hebrew speaking fans of the book, not just myself.

Anyway: I just can't find enough words to express how much I enjoyed reading the book, how heart warming it was, how deeply I sympathized with the characters, and how good it makes me feel to know it's there on the shelf, where I can pick it up to reread at any moment. So instead, I'll try to explain just what's so wonderful about it.

Most importantly, the characterization. Each of the main characters - Asaf and Tamar - is completely real and believable. I swear I still look for them on the street... The author spends a lot of time inside their heads, revealing their views on the world, their frustrations with themselves and those around them, their quirks, just everything... There are so many moments when I think, that could have been me. Asaf and Tamar are also completely lovable, despite their weaknesses, which pulled me into the story and caused me to follow it with almost as much personal involvement as if they had been my best friends. Secondary characters abound and are richly developed and fascinating. My favorite is Theodora, an old nun from the Islands of Greece, who has spent fifty years of her life locked in a church, waiting for a miracle. Her purpose in life is to welcome pilgrims from her Island to the Holy City of Jerusalem, but the island was destroyed by tidal waves decades earlier, and her devotion is futile. Despite a lifetime of loneliness, imprisonment and shattered hopes, Theodora is still a feisty old lady, wise, shrewd, entertaining and kindly, who thrives on her friendship with the young Tamar. To summarize, the book would be worth reading for the sake of the characters only, even if it had absolutely no plot.

But it has a plot, and a wonderful one. Teenagers especially will enjoy it, as the characters deal with problems like loneliness, low self esteem, peer pressure, and unsupportive friends and family. As the book progresses, they also discover a little bit of true friendship and love. Added onto this is an element of danger and suspense. Tamar is forced to venture alone into an underworld of drugs and crime, to rescue a mysterious guitarist named Shai. Asaf's story begins roughly a month after Tamar's, when the dog pound finds Tamar's intelligent yellow dog Dinka running loose in the city. Asaf is delegated to find her owners by attaching a leash and following her wherever she leads. (By the way, the author insists this is an actual method of finding dog-owners - he witnessed it and it inspired the book.) Dinka leads Asaf on a wild goose chase through the city, during which he meets fascinating oddball characters, discovers new things about himself and the reality in which he lives, and is gradually drawn into Tamar's story. I won't reveal any more plot details, to avoid spoiling the book.

A few last words: I read this book in Hebrew, and I really don't know how good the translation is. There are some phrases I can imagine would be quite difficult to convert to English, and would lose much of their meaning in the translation. Also, there are some elements of the story (like allusions to Hebrew songs) that only an Israeli will truly understand. However, I rate the book on par with any English book I've ever read, and being more than half American myself, I believe foreigners should be able to enjoy the story. Also, I've heard many people say that the beginning of the book is a little slow, though personally I disagree. Anyway, please hang on, don't lose patience with Asaf, and it'll be worth your while. This is an amazing book. Spectacular. Worthy of all the superlatives in the dictionary, as well as worldwide recognition. Anyone fortunate enough to read this review, take it seriously, and read the novel, will know they've made an amazing and rare discovery and hurry to share it with the world, just the way I have.

All at once gritty and magical
Assaf is not having a good summer. His parents have had to make an emergency trip to America, leaving him behind at a really boring job at Jersusalem City Hall. His best friend, whom he's protected from bullies since first grade, is suddenly the most popular boy in school and only willing to hang out with Assaf if Assaf joins him in activities Assaf would rather avoid. Missing his family and hopelessly bored at his make-work job, the moony sixteen-year-old is bewildered when his supervisor hands him the leash of the most disruptive dog in the animal shelter and tells him to go find the owner and hand that person a big citation for letting the yellow Labrador run loose. Suddenly, Assaf is being hauled all over town by an excited dog who seems to know exactly where she is going. Throughout the day he collects bits and pieces of information about the dog's owner, another sixteen-year-old who may be in trouble. He is determined to find this girl and return her beloved dog to her.

Across town, Tamar is a girl on a much more dangerous mission: to save a drug-addicted boy from an underworld impresario who sends talented runaway kids to perform on street corners across Israel, taking their earnings in return for drugs and a place to crash. The yellow Lab, Dinka, is her dog. How did they become separated? What is innocent Assaf getting involved in here? Who is the boy Tamar is trying to rescue?

I found this the most enjoyable of the David Grossman novels I've read. The translation by Vered Almog and Maya Gurantz is so fluid that "Someone to Run With" reads as though it was originally written in English. We get a look at a number of aspects of modern Israeli society from runaway and homeless teenagers to Assaf's close working-class family; from a cloistered nun to the mafia; from a big city that can still seem like a small town to wastelands where abandoned kids lie in ragged shelters. With skill and heart, Goodman shows, rather than tells us the differences and disparity in Israeli society. This enlightening adventure will satisfy both adult and older teen readers. ----Candace Siegle

a few words on the setting and translation
I have just finished reading this book in Hebrew (and to some extent also in English),and it is indeed terrific. For readers who may wonder why there is no mention of terrorism in a book that takes place largely in Jerusalem, it should be noted that Grossman finished his novel in 1999, at a time when things were relatively peaceful. Since then, several dozen people have been killed or injured in bombing attacks that have occurred in the Ben Yehuda pedestrian mall area where much of the novel's action takes place -- even now, however, there are plenty of street performers in the area. Grossman definitely knows what he is writing about. Although it barely mentions current events, "Someone to Run With" is thoroughly rooted in its setting. I think I even know where Theodora's tower would be (on a certain side street about three blocks from the center of town), and I wouldn't be surprised if I were to run into Theodora herself one day, or Tamar's friend Leah, or Rhino, or even Mr. Honigman (though the last is perhaps a bit of a stretch).
Other readers have given good plot descriptions and have pointed to some of the wonderful things about this book -- perhaps most important, its two main characters, whom Grossman clearly (and rightfully) loves. Since Hebrew is not my mother tongue, I read the original version quite slowly, and perhaps for this reason was thoroughly caught up in the complexity of its plot. Grossman's Hebrew is both idiomatic and playful, but the assured quality of his writing does not always come through in the translation. The most egregious slips concern names: Mt. Scopus, for instance, is transliterated from the Hebrew as soemthing like "the Tzofim Mountain" even though its Latin name is quite well known, and the pedestrian mall is inexplicably rendered as "the Walking Street" (as opposed to a running street?). For some reason a character named Matziach in the original is called "Victorious" in English, which is downright silly (and inaccurate -- the name in Hebrew means "successful"). Such slips mar a text that, in the original, is thoroughly engrossing.