Amos Oz was so many things. A globally famous novelist. A graceful and sensitive and sometimes fierce essayist. An Israeli patriot. A committed peace activist.
He was also a great friend to the Posen Foundation and the Posen Library of Jewish Culture and Civilization, the co-author, with his daughter Fania, of Jews and Words, a charming and erudite exploration of the connection between Jews and language.
That unique book, part of the Posen Library series, offered a guided a tour through a capacious and nimble mind that processed language and ideas—especially moral ideas—like few minds anywhere. That brilliant mind was on colorful display in November 2012, when the Posen Library anthology was launched at the 92nd Street Y in New York City. It was a cool November evening, and Oz had spent a busy day shuttling around New York, doing interviews, greeting fans—including one shocked Barnes & Noble sales clerk—and preparing for the evening’s event. He reminisced about how, growing up, he loved Sherwood Anderson, and later admired Cynthia Ozick, his alphabetical shelf-mate.
When the curtain went up, Oz was in fine form, reciting his favorite lines from public appearances.
“The Jews have no pope,” he reminded the audience by way of illuminating the iconoclastic spirit of the Jewish people. Oz, who consumed literature in great, gluttonous gulps, captured the anarchic spirit of readers and Jews—and perhaps himself—in that comment.
We shall miss him terribly, and we join millions of readers worldwide in sorrow but also appreciation for the gifts he left us.
