The constant battle of Albie Sachs
w w w . h a a r e t z . c o m
Last update - 05:40 25/07/2008
By Amira Hass
NEW YORK - Right at the door, before extending his one hand (the left) in greeting, Albie Sachs sternly informs me that he has no more than one hour for the interview. That's understandable: The man is 73, a justice on his country's highest court, he has authored four fascinating and beautifully written autobiographies, as well as a number of texts about law and society (including one on sexism and British law) - and now, as he hastens to point out, he's busy writing two more books, simultaneously. At this moment, he's probably thinking to himself: "Oy, oy, oy. Why did I ever consent to be interviewed?"
As his recent book, "The Free Diary of Albie Sachs" (Random House, 2004), reveals, "Oy, oy, oy" is a regular part of his vocabulary. The interview takes place in the office allotted to Sachs as a scholar in residence at the Ford Foundation in New York, and the honorable justice answers all the questions with prudent and sometimes elusive formulations.
Where is the mischievous Albie who appears in his books? Is this the same man who shared with his readers his shared bath tub experiences with women, after he had been wounded in the attempt on his life, in a book that chronicled his recovery ("The Soft Vengeance of a Freedom Fighter," University of California Press, 2000)? Is this the same man who dreamed in his youth of becoming a guerrilla fighter? Who was defined as a terrorist solely because of his affiliation with the African National Congress (ANC)? The same Albie who immediately, in the first pages of his book about his recovery, tells the Jewish joke about a certain Hymie Cohen, who falls off a bus and instinctively makes the sign of the cross. "What cross?" Hymie explains to his astonished friend. "I was just checking that everything was in place: spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch."
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Last update - 05:40 25/07/2008
By Amira Hass
NEW YORK - Right at the door, before extending his one hand (the left) in greeting, Albie Sachs sternly informs me that he has no more than one hour for the interview. That's understandable: The man is 73, a justice on his country's highest court, he has authored four fascinating and beautifully written autobiographies, as well as a number of texts about law and society (including one on sexism and British law) - and now, as he hastens to point out, he's busy writing two more books, simultaneously. At this moment, he's probably thinking to himself: "Oy, oy, oy. Why did I ever consent to be interviewed?"
As his recent book, "The Free Diary of Albie Sachs" (Random House, 2004), reveals, "Oy, oy, oy" is a regular part of his vocabulary. The interview takes place in the office allotted to Sachs as a scholar in residence at the Ford Foundation in New York, and the honorable justice answers all the questions with prudent and sometimes elusive formulations.
Where is the mischievous Albie who appears in his books? Is this the same man who shared with his readers his shared bath tub experiences with women, after he had been wounded in the attempt on his life, in a book that chronicled his recovery ("The Soft Vengeance of a Freedom Fighter," University of California Press, 2000)? Is this the same man who dreamed in his youth of becoming a guerrilla fighter? Who was defined as a terrorist solely because of his affiliation with the African National Congress (ANC)? The same Albie who immediately, in the first pages of his book about his recovery, tells the Jewish joke about a certain Hymie Cohen, who falls off a bus and instinctively makes the sign of the cross. "What cross?" Hymie explains to his astonished friend. "I was just checking that everything was in place: spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch."
--MORE--