Today, in-between the hearings, I read Oz's A TALE OF LOVE AND DARKNESS. Isn't that a great title. I thought it was supposed to be a novel, but it's his memoirs and the story of his families, the Klausner's and how they arrived in Palestine, a filthy Levantine swamp they came to when the rest of the world rejected them. (his grandmother's words, not mine). He writes something quite interesting. It was a sit-up and "Huh" moment, because what he writes could be the null hypothesis for Ferenczi's two children theory. Oz--that is, Amos, also a doctor, btw, wrote:
"In the lives of individuals and of peoples, too, the worst conflicts are often those that break out between those who are persecuted. It is mere wistful thinking to imagine that the persecuted and the oppressed shall unite out of solidarity and man the barricades together against a ruthless oppressor. In reality, two children of the same abusive father will not necessarily make common cause brought close together by their shared fate. Often, each sees in the other not a partner in misfortune, but in fact the image of their common oppressor."
Oz was writing how the Arabs and the Jews, instead of uniting against the Europeans, project on to each other the misdoings and persecutions of the invaders. And how the Europeans play one against the other. And the same goes on now with that ahistorical boy genius and his peace plan, which offers no peace, but further oppression.
Oz has quite the Oedipal background story himself. Up until age 15, he was Amos Klausner. Then, after his mother's suicide, he went off to a kibbutz and became Amos Oz. No particular reason given. But I'm pretty certain feelings toward his father factored into this change. Just as Ferenczi was Frankel until he chose to Maygarize it as an adult.
Well, I intended to further myself with my forced exile. Time to take up guitar lessons redux? Make music, make peace. Keep fingers nimble and arthritis away. But that never happened. I did restring the guitar. And then put it away. I still want to write Ferenczi: The Musical. But I am a poet, not a ballader. I struggle to create something meaningful, to do something meaningful with my life. The evil ones wraps a ribbon around the world twice while heroes struggle and despair.