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anything does the shabby film producer Dubi
Dombrov have in common with the fictional Narrator who is about to
bring him back to Albert for a second visit? Besides the fact that both of them
require the services of a tax adviser, we may note some other parallels. He and I
as children were both outsiders. And we were both orphaned
at a fairly tender age and in need of a guiding hand, which is, as
Dubi observed, both an unquenchable personal need and, shall we say, a
religious quest Both of us would like to create at least one work
that will turn out properly. And we are both on our way. True, he is a
clumsy, sloppy man, a thing of shreds and patches, which ostensibly
contrasts with the Narrator, who is well known to be a punctilious person
who always puts each thing away in its proper place. But that is only
on the outside. Inside him too there is an almighty mess.
    And we are both always thirsty. Incidentally, a pig in a poke is an expression
that generally describes an incautious purchase but in our case connotes
not so much the impetuosity of the purchaser as the condition of the pig.
Sometimes we encounter a spider or a cockroach in the kitchen, which
we would never dream of hurting, but when the creature runs away from us
we take offence. And in general we are easily hurt:
we are constantly offended but contain ourselves, and continue to invite
further offence. With women he has a harder time of it the Narrator
is apparently helped by a certain glow, at least on the surface. Like
the producer, he feels not entirely worthy, like a con man obtaining favors
by deception: be my mother, my sister, etc. Not to mention the feet that both
characters are a bit like David, who always longed to adopt a gentle brother
and a tough-warm father, a grim father whose manner toward his son implies
a suppressed rebuke. And yet, adopting a father, as can be seen
in the case of David, generally ends up in a battle in which the father's role
is to fall, thus restoring to us the liberties of orphanhood. And,
it may be added, both the unsuccessful producer and this Narrator
know the summer will soon be over.

Synopsis
    To sum up the story so far, this is actually a tale about five or six characters,
most of whom are alive most of the time, who often offer each other
a hot or cold drink, generally a cold one, because it is summer. Sometimes
they bring each other a tray with some cheese and olives, some wine, slices
of watermelon, occasionally they even make each other a light meal. Or else
you could see it as a number of intersecting triangles. Rico his father and
his mother. Dita and her two lovers (Giggy Ben-Gal doesn't count). Albert
between Bettine Carmel and his child bride who slips from room to room
wearing no more than the shirt on her back. And Bettine herself, between
Avram and Albert, her choice for a rainy day. While Dubi is stuck
between his desire for Nirit and the rebuke of her warm-hearted
representative on earth, to the love of women preferring the reproach
of the sensible father. Rico, between his father and his cross, mistakenly
searching in the mountains for his sea-tossed mother, in love with Dita
though not loving her enough. Dita who is still waiting. And all of them are
among shadows. Even the Narrator himself is somewhere between
the mystical and the mischievous. This fabric resembles
the pattern in the curtain at the Greek necromancer's, who died and
left in his place a crow-woman. She has no living soul and her fabric gives
a foretaste of the worm. And so a certain shadow falls over this story too.

The peace process
    Hadhramaut. On his map such a principality appears in southern
Arabia, east of Bab el-Mandeb. Maybe the peace process
will open it up to us. But what is there there) Shifting sands,
wilderness, the haunt of foxes. But what is there here, in this abandoned
temple? A solitary Buddhist monk, a skeletal figure, through a hatch
wordlessly handing you a bowl of cold rice
and disappearing. He will not open the