Exit Wounds
While dealing with harsh political realities unique to this particular region, Exit Wounds speaks of universal issues; a broken relationship between a father and his son, a woman abandoned by her lover. Interspersed with such a personal, affecting story, are touching political overtones, yet they never feel incendiary or obvious, and the message is one of unity and peace – inevitably culminating in a sweet and loving relationship between two people at odds with one another. On page 54, Numi asks “this whole notion of separating Jews and non-Jews is sickening, don’t you think?”. We see the treeless cemetery, where non-Jews are buried. We learn of Israelis killed both in their homeland and fighting wars in other countries. A down-and-out Sigalit laments the intrusion of big businesses at the expense of “the little guys” (70), while speaking to Koby at a kiosk. Class disparities are also dealt with in an intelligent, non-judgmental way; Numi’s wealth leads to some uncomfortable rifts with Koby, and also leads to her being used by men who don’t truly love her. All of these scenes are moving, and it captures scenes from Israeli life with the typical dry Israeli humor, humor that can only be had by people who face such struggles and have no choice but to laugh at them. Suicide bombings and acts of terror are commonplace; at the Pathological Institute for Forensic Medicine, the forensic examiners discuss getting Chinese food for lunch while handling a victim’s brains and intestines (45). The receptionist grins when she states “there’s no shortage of bodies in this country” (48). Ruth Modan deals with death and loss in a sensible way, but she also enables the reader to confront harsh realities in a new manner, by making light of them. She shows how these realities are experienced by people to whom death is commonplace and inescapable, and how they live on. In this story, death is often portrayed without emotion, and many of the characters have dealt with so much violence that they have no other choice but to become desensitized, to joke around while identifying bodies.
This story deals with the sorrow of losing a loved one with whom there is unsettled animosity; Koby always expected to see his father again, Numi wonders if every encounter with someone should be treated like the last time she will ever see them. Koby and Numi’s uncertainty is heart-wrenching, though they struggle in very different ways. When Numi finds out the truth of her relationship with Gabriel, though, it’s easy to feel that she was better off groping around in the dark; the woman deals with so many insecurities, so much bitterness and harassment, only to learn that the one man who ever treated her well was using her. Despite maintaining that she didn’t really want to learn that Gabriel had died (On page 98: “It’s OK. I didn’t want to believe it either”), of course it would have been easier for Numi to face his death than to learn the truth about how little he really loved her. She and Koby can bond over being abandoned by the same man, a man they felt should have loved them forever.The characters in this story are all dealing with isolation – Koby lives like an old man, working long hours and never really befriending anyone. Numi has never really known love before, and jumps at any man who gives her attention because of her deep insecurities. And what could be more isolating than the thought of dying and never being claimed, your body buried in an unmarked grave?
Modan sets the scene well; her characters manage to convey a lot of emotion with very few, subtle, lines (and perhaps the most simply drawn eyes we’ve seen). The colors are generally muted (which makes the bright splashes even powerful), aiding in a story of loss and isolation in such a harsh place. The characters are very real, and it’s easy to identify with their fears and insecurities, even if they are living in a very different world. And while a number of the themes here touch on universal concerns, it is always a story about Israel.
The ending was very powerful; Koby, a highly guarded man whom Numi accused of not feeling anything was finally allowing himself to become completely vulnerable to Numi, a woman jaded by her experiences being wounded by lovers; I never expected this would be such a sweet love story, despite the darkness and dry humor – the story is not about discovering what happened to Gabriel. I was disappointed that we never got to see his character, understanding that he likely moved on to a new life, a new woman – yet learning about his life was clearly never the point of the story, though he did provide a perfect opportunity for an unlikely and beautiful pairing.
Finally: Props to Modan for including what must be, without a shadow of a doubt, the most awkward sex line ever: “like father like son” (139). I cringed reading that.
