Edna Mazya. Love Burns.
Cohen, Leslie
Edna Mazya. Love Burns. Dalya Bilu, tr. New York. Europa. 2006. 220
pages. $14.95. ISBN 1-933372-08-7
TRAGEDY AND COMEDY are deftly interwoven in Love Burns. In the
opening pages of this novel, the neurotic protagonist, Ilan, describes
himself as "an aging semi-intellectual, with a tendency to morbid
introspection," and the reader finds this an all-too-accurate
portrait. Although he is a professor of astrophysics at Israel's
prestigious Technion, the forty-eight-year-old Ilan has the emotional
maturity of a teenage boy. So preoccupied is he with his
twenty-five-year-old wife and her extramarital affair, that he is unable
to concentrate on anything else. Just when the reader has lost all
patience for his nonstop, whining interior monologue, however, a
dramatic event causes Ilan to transform himself from a self-obsessed,
flat character into a multifaceted individual. It is supremely ironic
that, by killing his wife's lover in a tragicomic accident, Ilan
becomes a mensch. His focus shifts from self-obsession to an intense
examination of every person he encounters, and we discover in him both a
scientist who is awed by the mysterious inner workings of the universe
and a human being who authentically questions the meaning of a human
life. While the pre-manslaughter Ilan was blinded by his despair over
his wife's infidelity, the post-manslaughter Ilan takes a genuine
interest in the people around him and empathizes with their agonies and
loneliness.
Anton, Ilan's childhood friend, with whom he plays chess but
has given up conversation, is a savvy police detective, thus much of the
novel is spent on the game of cat-and-mouse they play. To further
lighten the serious atmosphere, the author has generously sprinkled the
novel with farcical, improbable incidents. The comic is never far from
the tragic in Edna Mazya's work.
Ilan's mother is, of course, his best friend and sole
confidante. Although she has little patience for his adolescent antics,
she does protect and defend him in his darkest hour. And she
demonstrates the depth of her love for him by her final self-sacrifice.
In short, Mazya seems to be saying that life is a carnival of
tragedy and comedy and that nobody--neither the most erudite
professional nor the lowliest street dweller--is exempt from its
vicissitudes.
Leslie Cohen
Kibbutz Ein Hashofet, Israel