182
" Б.Р.: Като лек срещу фанатизма препоръчвате чувството за хумор и четенето на Кафка и Шекспир, развиването на умението да си представиш другия. Не мога да не се запитам дали няма да се намерят хора, които да обявят рецептата ви за нереалистична, а вас – за безнадежден романтик и идеалист.
Оз: Провинциалният лекар, за какъвто се мисля, предписва развитието на умението да си представим другия и чувството за хумор не като заместител на разумния компромис, а като необходима подготовка за него. Ние имаме нужда от компромис, имаме нужда от договор, с който да разделим общото ни жилище на отделни апартаменти. Добронамереността и чувството за хумор няма да заместят всичко това, но ще осигурят подходящата атмосфера за пристъпване към тези важни решения. И си мисля, че това не се отнася само до конфликта в Близкия изток. Да си представим другия е не просто естетически призив, а етичен императив. В семейството – не само между нации или между различни общности – пъхането в кожата на другия е морален императив. Искам да споделя с вас една тайна: да си представиш другия е истинско удоволствие. Тайно удоволствие, огромно удоволствие. Представяйки си другия, ние се превръщаме не само в по-добри съседи и по-добри съпрузи, но и в по-добри любовници. "
― Amos Oz , How to Cure a Fanatic
186
" there was something else, something more complicated, more secret, and that is that girls in those days, even modern girls, like us, girls who went to school and then to university, were always taught that women are entitled to an education and a place outside the home—but only until the children are born. Your life is your own only for a short time: from when you leave your parents' home to your first pregnancy. From that moment, from the first pregnancy, we had to begin to live our lives only around the children. Just like our mothers. Even to sweep pavements for our children, because your child is the chick and you are—what? When it comes down to it, you are just the yolk of the egg, you are what the chick eats so as to grow big and strong. And when your child grows up—even then you can't go back to being yourself, you simply change from being a mother to being a grandmother, whose task is simply to help her children bring up their children.
True, even then there were quite a few women who made careers for themselves and went out into the world. But everybody talked about them behind their backs: look at that selfish woman, she sits in meetings while her poor children grow up in the street and pay the price.
Now it's a new world. Now at last women are given more opportunity to live lives of their own. Or is it just an illusion? Maybe in the younger generations too women still cry into their pillows at night, while their husbands are asleep, because they feel they have to make impossible choices? I don't want to be judgmental: it's not my world anymore. To make a comparison I'd have to go from door to door checking how many mothers' tears are wept every night into the pillow when husbands are asleep, and to compare the tears then with the tears now. "
― Amos Oz , A Tale of Love and Darkness
199
" What was the secret of Grandpa's charm? I began to understand only years later. He possessed a quality that is hardly ever found among men, a marvelous quality that for many women is the sexiest in a man:
He listened.
He did not just politely pretend to listen, while impatiently waiting for her to finish what she was saying and shut up.
He did not break into his partner's sentence and finish it for her.
He did not cut in to sum up what she was saying so as to move on to another subject.
He did not let his interlocutress talk into thin air while he prepared in his head the reply he would make when she finally finished.
He did not pretend to be interested or entertained, he really was. Nu, what: he had an inexhaustible curiosity.
He was not impatient. He did not attempt to deflect the conversation from her petty concerns to his own important ones.
On the contrary: he loved her concerns. He always enjoyed waiting for her, and if she needed to take her time he took pleasure in all her contortions.
He was in no hurry, and he never rushed her. He would wait for her to finish, and even when she had finished, he did not pounce or grab but enjoyed waiting in case there was something more, in case she was carried along on another wave.
He loved to let her take him by the hand and lead him to her own places, at her own pace. He loved to be her accompanist.
He loved getting to know her. He loved to understand, to get to the bottom of her. And beyond. "
― Amos Oz , A Tale of Love and Darkness
