438
PARTISAN REVIEW
ual interplay between magnanimous, meta-human dreams and
petty realities -like the blocked drainage in "Late Love" - that's
partly what I'm all about.
ASG:
Your third novel,
Touch the Water, Touch the Wind,
was prob–
ably your most puzzling work, at least for critics in this country, who
didn't quite know what to do with it.
AD:
You paint a bird and then the critics tell you that this is a flawed
goat.
It
is a fairy tale, my substitute for a three-volume, nineteenth–
century family saga. Basically I was trying to deal with the hopeless
infatuation of Jewish intellectuals with infinity, with morality, with
redemption, with the Messiah. I was trying, again, to be very tongue–
in-cheek about the heights of the expectations and the limits imposed
on all of us by being human. I think it's a rather funny book. Most
critics in this country failed to see it in this spirit. Alfred Kazin was
probably the only one who read this book in the way it should be read.
ASG:
You've also published a book for children,
Soumchi.
What was it
like writing a book for children?
It
doesn't seem that different from
your other stories.
AD:
I guess it's not. It was fun. I wrote it while recovering from a very
bad car accident. My wife used to push me in a wheelchair to my
workroom for two or three hours each afternoon, then come collect me
later, and in four weeks or so this one was written. I enjoyed every
moment of it. I'd write and laugh at what I saw before me on the
paper.
ASG:
Do you think that you'll do any more writing for children?
AD:
I would love to, but it's not up to me. People assume I have utter
freedom of choice when it comes to subjects - sort of waking up in the
morning, scratching my head, and asking myself, "What am I going
to write about next?" It doesn't work that way. The characters select
me, rather than I select them.
