On Literature and the State

Chaim Hazaz

1962

Our state is young, with a girl’s years, just fourteen. Still without her shoes, as the poet says. But she seems old, many generations old. In these few years, old age has pounced on her. No one is proud of her, no one is happy for her. On the contrary, each additional day makes our heart coarser against her. Our spirit is flaccid, and our will has…

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