‘Ladies and Gentleman,’ announces a tight-lipped man standing at the lighting console, ‘put your hands together for Dovaleh G!’ĭovaleh G - the stage name of Dov Greenstein - is sharp and quick-witted, lively and energetic, cantankerous, acerbic, and caustic, especially in his barbed interactions with the audience. People are still filing in to the club, chatting loudly. Scattered laughter and applause from the audience. He takes a few faltering steps, trips, brakes himself on the wooden floor with both hands, then sharply juts his rear-end straight up. Yet here we are, at the tale’s beginning, inside a comedy club in south Netanya on Israel’s coastal plain as a ‘short, slight, bespectacled man’ is thrust onto the stage ‘from a side door as if he’d been kicked through it’: A Horse Walks Into a Bar, an opening line to many a haggard joke, is not necessarily what one would expect as the title of a new David Grossman novel.
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