I didn’t realise this was going to be a kid’s book but it was only short—always the attraction—and, besides, it caught my attention. I have to say I took a shine to the protagonist (protagonist? far too grand a title for our eleven-year-old narrator) who we only ever know as ‘Soumchi’, a nickname given to him by his classmates. I remember being eleven. I got my first nickname then. It only stuck for a year and then we went to the big school and as there was another boy there with a similar-sounding nickname mine got dropped and it was another couple of years before I acquired my second which did stick.I was about the same age as ‘Soumchi’ when I fell in love for the first time too and I have to say I related completely with his pubescent angst. Not quite sure I was quite as gullible as he seems—for starters I would’ve known if my uncle had tried to foist off a girl’s bike on me—but then again as this book is set just after the end of World War II he can, I suppose, be forgiven for being a bit innocent. And he is. Why else would be let his supposed best friend con him so easily?As it’s a kid’s story events unfold a little too conveniently: he loses the bike but acquires a train, he’s forced to give up the train but acquires a dog, the dog runs off and he finds a pencil sharpener, he gives the pencil sharpener away and discovers love. That aside I found the characterisations good and everyone is believable, even the minor characters. And I liked too that the ending—the first ending (there’s a second one he says we don’t need to read)—isn’t too neat; that made it slightly more believable.A charming wee book and a book I would’ve appreciated at about that age but I’d’ve never have lent it to any of my mates.
Amos Oz is probably one of my two or three favorite living writers, and Soumchi is a beautiful book, a gentle, poignant and thoughtful novella about a young boy living in British-occupied Jerusalem, a gullible dreamer who fantasizes about travels to the Himalayas and darkest Africa and who dreams about Esthie, the love of his life."In a single sentence I can tell you all of it. How once I was given a bicycle and swapped it for a railway; got a dog instead; found a pencil sharpener in place of the dog and gave the pencil sharpener away for love. And even this is not quite the truth, because the love was there all the time , before I gave the sharpener away, before these exchangings began."
What do You think about Soumchi (1980)?
Seré igual de breve que este relato, de apenas noventa páginas. Todas las sinopsis que he leído se centran en la odisea por Jerusalén de un niño de once años llamado Sumchi después de que su tío estraperlista le regale una curiosa bicicleta. Les llama la atención la cantidad de cosas que le pueden ocurrir a un niño en veinticuatro horas. Al propio Sumchi también.A mí, en esta ocasión, no. Lo que hace que este relato sea un poco diferente de otros miles es el acertado retrato social de la ciudad, el amor confuso que Sumchi siente hacia Esthie y el origen de la palabra Sumchi: nombre en la literatura talmúdica del lago Hula, situado al noreste de Israel. Los egipcios lo llamaron Samchuna, Flavio Josefo, Semechonitis y en arameo se decía Hulata. Actualmente en árabe se llama Buheirat el Huleh y Agam Hula en hebreo. Y como siempre, me pierdo en los nombres…
—Yoake
This book just went on and on for me. There wasn't much to keep me into this book, and I was left confused in many sections of this book. The boy inherits his first bike, but through some misfortunes he ends up with only a simple pencil sharpener. There were some positive elements though, the reader captured the boys imagination, creating elaborate schemes to get out of trouble, that involve running away and living in the mountains, among other things.I wouldn't recommend this one to anyone. Even for the short length of this book, I lost my attention very quickly.
—Brennan Wieland
