
Sami Michael (1926–2024)
Author of A Trumpet in the Wadi: A Novel
About the Author
Born in Baghdad, Sami Michael was active in the leftist underground in Iraq. In 1948, he fled to Iran where he continued his fight against the Iraqi regime. He later emigrated to Israel, where he is a graduate of the departments of Psychology and Arabic at Haifa University. "Refuge" is the first of show more his novels to be translated into English. (Bowker Author Biography) show less
Works by Sami Michael
חסות 4 copies
חופן של ערפל 1 copy
חצוצרה בואדי 1 copy
אהבה בין הדקלים 1 copy
Ḥasut 1 copy
ʻAʼidah = עאידה 1 copy
Eine Liebe in Bagdad 1 copy
שווים ושווים יותר 1 copy
Um Trompete no Uádi 1 copy
Pigeons at Trafalgar Square 1 copy
Ḥasut חסות 1 copy
סופה בין הדקלים 1 copy
Storm in the Palm Trees 1 copy
Associated Works
Tagged
Common Knowledge
- Legal name
- סמי מיכאל
- Other names
- Michael, Sami
سامي ميخائيل - Birthdate
- 1926-08-15
- Date of death
- 2024-04-01
- Gender
- male
- Education
- University of Haifa (Psychology, Arabic literature)
- Occupations
- water surveyor
novelist - Organizations
- The Association for Civil Rights in Israel (president)
Communist underground (Iraq) - Awards and honors
- WIZO Prize (Paris)
ACUM Prize
Brenner Prize
Ze`ev Prize (children`s literature)
Israeli Literature Prize
President`s Prize (show all 12)
Prime Minister's Prize for Hebrew Writers (1982)
International Board on Books for Young People citation (Berlin, 1992)
Honorary Doctorate (Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 1995)
Honorary Doctorate (Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, 2000)
Honorary Doctorate (Tel Aviv University, 2002)
Emet Prize (Israel, 2007) - Nationality
- Israel
- Places of residence
- Baghdad, Iraq (birth)
Iran
Jaffa, Israel
Haifa, Israel - Associated Place (for map)
- Israel
Members
Reviews
Coming-of-age story set just before the First Lebanon War of two Christian Arab sisters living in the Wadi Nisnas of Haifa: one of them pregnant with the local mobster's son and negotiating a marriage with her cousin and the other seemingly doomed to staying unmarried until a Jewish dockworker moves in upstairs and mesmerizes her with his music. At the forefront is, unavoidably perhaps, the tension between the Arab and Jewish citizens, but also the clash between the various traditions of the show more cultures somehow attempting to coexist in the pressure-cooker which is Israel. The characters manage to be irritating and endearing at the same time and their choices, based on their own peculiarities or tradition or a merge of both, are understandable and commendable and frightfully tragic all at once. My only problem with the book is that it's not very long and some events that are merely hinted at would have been more fascinating were they described more fully. It is a poetic novel and its writer something of a master, so the gripe about the length may be mine alone. show less
A Trumpet in the Wadi is difficult for me to rate because I'm not sure I can even understand it.
This is the second novel I can recall reading that's set primarily in Israel, and in both instances I found the novels nearly impenetrable. There are interesting insights and beautiful images, but the influence of the culture is just so foreign to me, I can't really comprehend the characters' actions and motivations. I can't figure out why sometimes they remain silent and other times they lash show more out. I can't understand the concept of covering for one's actions for the sake of propriety or tradition. I can't even picture the landscape.
Some of this bafflement is represented in the character of Alex, a Jewish immigrant from the Soviet Union, but while his confusion might make me feel a little more at home in my own confusion, his perspective doesn't help me to understand because the perspective of someone from the Soviet Union is nearly as foreign to me as the perspective of Arab Christians in Israel.
The main feeling I take away from this novel is of being an outsider. Not only am I an outsider reading it, but essentially all of the characters are outsiders, too. They've all had to try and piece together through trial and error who they are and how to act in different situations. I suspect I do this to one degree or another within my own culture in the United States---where I, incidentally, often feel like an outsider even though I was born here---but I think the paradigm here of equality makes it difficult for me to conceptualize the strict religious, ethnic, and class boundaries in the Haifa of Michael's novel.
Reading about these characters I think, why don't they just move somewhere else? They don't have to stay in Israel, do they? But Alex, the immigrant, even addresses this issue. He's essentially stateless, and anywhere he goes he'll be foreign, will struggle to speak the language, to understand and be understood. His best bet, it seems, is to stick with one thing and make the most out of that situation.
Which is really kind of depressing.
I like to think that we're all humans and as such, we're more alike than we are different, but do I really have strong evidence to back up this belief? show less
This is the second novel I can recall reading that's set primarily in Israel, and in both instances I found the novels nearly impenetrable. There are interesting insights and beautiful images, but the influence of the culture is just so foreign to me, I can't really comprehend the characters' actions and motivations. I can't figure out why sometimes they remain silent and other times they lash show more out. I can't understand the concept of covering for one's actions for the sake of propriety or tradition. I can't even picture the landscape.
Some of this bafflement is represented in the character of Alex, a Jewish immigrant from the Soviet Union, but while his confusion might make me feel a little more at home in my own confusion, his perspective doesn't help me to understand because the perspective of someone from the Soviet Union is nearly as foreign to me as the perspective of Arab Christians in Israel.
The main feeling I take away from this novel is of being an outsider. Not only am I an outsider reading it, but essentially all of the characters are outsiders, too. They've all had to try and piece together through trial and error who they are and how to act in different situations. I suspect I do this to one degree or another within my own culture in the United States---where I, incidentally, often feel like an outsider even though I was born here---but I think the paradigm here of equality makes it difficult for me to conceptualize the strict religious, ethnic, and class boundaries in the Haifa of Michael's novel.
Reading about these characters I think, why don't they just move somewhere else? They don't have to stay in Israel, do they? But Alex, the immigrant, even addresses this issue. He's essentially stateless, and anywhere he goes he'll be foreign, will struggle to speak the language, to understand and be understood. His best bet, it seems, is to stick with one thing and make the most out of that situation.
Which is really kind of depressing.
I like to think that we're all humans and as such, we're more alike than we are different, but do I really have strong evidence to back up this belief? show less
A Trumpet in the Wadi is difficult for me to rate because I'm not sure I can even understand it.
This is the second novel I can recall reading that's set primarily in Israel, and in both instances I found the novels nearly impenetrable. There are interesting insights and beautiful images, but the influence of the culture is just so foreign to me, I can't really comprehend the characters' actions and motivations. I can't figure out why sometimes they remain silent and other times they lash show more out. I can't understand the concept of covering for one's actions for the sake of propriety or tradition. I can't even picture the landscape.
Some of this bafflement is represented in the character of Alex, a Jewish immigrant from the Soviet Union, but while his confusion might make me feel a little more at home in my own confusion, his perspective doesn't help me to understand because the perspective of someone from the Soviet Union is nearly as foreign to me as the perspective of Arab Christians in Israel.
The main feeling I take away from this novel is of being an outsider. Not only am I an outsider reading it, but essentially all of the characters are outsiders, too. They've all had to try and piece together through trial and error who they are and how to act in different situations. I suspect I do this to one degree or another within my own culture in the United States---where I, incidentally, often feel like an outsider even though I was born here---but I think the paradigm here of equality makes it difficult for me to conceptualize the strict religious, ethnic, and class boundaries in the Haifa of Michael's novel.
Reading about these characters I think, why don't they just move somewhere else? They don't have to stay in Israel, do they? But Alex, the immigrant, even addresses this issue. He's essentially stateless, and anywhere he goes he'll be foreign, will struggle to speak the language, to understand and be understood. His best bet, it seems, is to stick with one thing and make the most out of that situation.
Which is really kind of depressing.
I like to think that we're all humans and as such, we're more alike than we are different, but do I really have strong evidence to back up this belief? show less
This is the second novel I can recall reading that's set primarily in Israel, and in both instances I found the novels nearly impenetrable. There are interesting insights and beautiful images, but the influence of the culture is just so foreign to me, I can't really comprehend the characters' actions and motivations. I can't figure out why sometimes they remain silent and other times they lash show more out. I can't understand the concept of covering for one's actions for the sake of propriety or tradition. I can't even picture the landscape.
Some of this bafflement is represented in the character of Alex, a Jewish immigrant from the Soviet Union, but while his confusion might make me feel a little more at home in my own confusion, his perspective doesn't help me to understand because the perspective of someone from the Soviet Union is nearly as foreign to me as the perspective of Arab Christians in Israel.
The main feeling I take away from this novel is of being an outsider. Not only am I an outsider reading it, but essentially all of the characters are outsiders, too. They've all had to try and piece together through trial and error who they are and how to act in different situations. I suspect I do this to one degree or another within my own culture in the United States---where I, incidentally, often feel like an outsider even though I was born here---but I think the paradigm here of equality makes it difficult for me to conceptualize the strict religious, ethnic, and class boundaries in the Haifa of Michael's novel.
Reading about these characters I think, why don't they just move somewhere else? They don't have to stay in Israel, do they? But Alex, the immigrant, even addresses this issue. He's essentially stateless, and anywhere he goes he'll be foreign, will struggle to speak the language, to understand and be understood. His best bet, it seems, is to stick with one thing and make the most out of that situation.
Which is really kind of depressing.
I like to think that we're all humans and as such, we're more alike than we are different, but do I really have strong evidence to back up this belief? show less
Sami Michael is one of Israel's most beloved authors. Winner of many prizes, Michael has won the hearts and souls of countless Israelis with books such as "A Trumpet in the Wadi" and "Victoria". His latest novel, "מעוף הברבורים" ("The Flight of the Swans"), doesn't rise to the same heights as his previous achievements, but is a welcome addition to his repertoire. Two brothers, William and Shraga Alkabir, are the central characters of this book. The first few pages are a show more masterpiece of story weaving, giving the reader just enough information to know who the brothers are, and giving away just enough hints to make the read curious about the hidden secrets of the family. There are two major secrets that unravel later in the book and even though the careful and alert reader can pick them out early enough, this does not diminish the pleasure of reading. show less
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Statistics
- Works
- 31
- Also by
- 1
- Members
- 207
- Popularity
- #106,919
- Rating
- 3.3
- Reviews
- 7
- ISBNs
- 31
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