PLAY MISTY FOR ME:

Shooting Clint: In the dead-pan humour of this story by a young Israeli cult author, published here in English for the first time, the violence of the Arab-Israeli war is there, but not there. (Etget Keret, 2 - 12 - 2002, OpenDemocracy)

I got Clint for my ninth birthday from Sammy Zagoori who was probably the cheapest kid in the whole class. He lucked out, and his dog had puppies right on the day of my party. There were four of them, and his uncle was going to dump them all in the river. So Sammy, who only cared about how not to spend anything on the class gift, took one of them and gave it to me. The puppy was tiny, with a bark that sounded more like a wheeze, and when he got mad, he'd give a deep, low kind of growl that didn't sound anything like a puppy. He seemed to think he was real tough, so I called him Clint.

From day one, my dad couldn't stand the sight of him. Clint didn?t care much for Dad either. The truth is Clint didn't like anyone much, except me.

So, is Clint supposed to be the Palestinians? Posted by Orrin Judd at December 5, 2002 9:57 PM