The Clay Urn Synopsis

The Clay Urn follows the story of Ari and Ilana—two Israelis in the 1980s—as they meet, fall in love, and grapple with their ideologies on the war against the Intifada. Ari grew up trying to fill the void his father had left behind after being killed in combat. Ari was given the option to serve within the comfort of a desk job, but instead chose to fight on the front lines. Ilana, artistic and intuitive, is a counselor in the army who often dreams of what life could offer beyond a place where fighting is fueled by bloodlines.

During her service, Ilana is continuously troubled by the mental toll the war takes on both the agitated men she sees returning from combat zones, and the families and civilians caught in the middle. For Ari, serving in the army acts as a trigger, causing him to relive moments with his father—both good and bad. As his duties heighten, he turns to Ilana for counsel.

When Ilana’s service ends, she leaves for New York City, needing to put space between her and the conflict, even if that means leaving her relationship with Ari behind. For Ari, the separation causes him to retreat emotionally, and leaves him without a support system when a mission he’s leading goes awry and ends in bloodshed. He is haunted by the images of the wounded and dead—carnage that happened under his watch—and he closes off the world and any help that might be offered to him.

When Ilana eventually returns home to Israel, she and Ari find each other in different states. As the two of them struggle to reconnect, they are thrust into the mercy of the war, leaving their lives completely shattered in the wake of the violence.

The Clay Urn explores themes of war, loss and resilience.

Book Reviews

“The Clay Urn exists too in a world filled with violence, oppression, and death — it never leaves the ambiguity that is the human condition — and in so doing it offers space to move a little closer to that great mystery of what it really means to love.”
Read the full review in Atticus Review

“One of the most intriguing aspects of the book is how deeply steeped the characters’ memory and love are in the tradition of war, which their country is born of. The Clay Urn addresses the difficult question of identity shaped by tragedy – even home is not a given here. Even home is a word layered at once with trauma and love.”
Read the full review in Parhelion

Using The Clay Urn for University Courses

Integrated Literacy: A General Education course with the focus on research writing. The overall theme for this section is cultural competency and exploring the world. Students in this class are working toward writing a research paper about a global issue of their own choosing. We will read and discuss The Clay Urn together, and students will write an essay putting the novella in conversation with other course readings and their own research on the details of this war-torn place and time.

Critical Reading: Students will be applying various literary critical theories to the novella. They will consider the text through the lens of Feminist, Reader-response, New Historical and Cultural, and New Criticism.

Literature in a Cultural Context: This class will focus on relationships in literature in the broadest sense of the word. They will explore the relationship between Ari and Ilana, along with their relationships to family, to the people they are serving with, to the landscape, and to a country at war.

To order The Clay Urn at discounted rates and have the author discuss the book with your students, email Paul at info@paulrabinowitz.com

What’s Inside

llana kicks off the blanket and walks over to the patio door. Ari does not wake. She lifts a frame from the shelf and stares at the black and white photo. She is caught in lively expression. Her head rests on Ari’s shoulder, her eyes wide and bright. She returns the photo to the shelf, placing it next to a clay urn.
She closes her nightgown, slides the door open and steps outside. Somewhere in the night, the dog continues to bark. There is a crack and then silence. On the other side of the stone fence, a bitch crosses the deserted street. The dog sees Ilana and moves towards her. The dog’s hot breath mixes with the cool desert air. Ilana opens the gate.
“Come here, sweet girl,” she says.
The first ray of morning light enters the small garden, casting a shadow towards the west. The bitch lays near Ilana, licking a wound on her back leg. Her right ear is torn. At a makeshift wooden table, Ilana spreads out colored pencils and a sketchpad. She draws a black dog. Blood trickles from the dog’s teeth, splashing onto the barren earth. Ilana lights a cigarette. In the distance, the sun peaks over the high wall of the distant Jordanian mountains. A blanket of orange and red tumbles across the early morning sky. A curl of smoke wraps around her forehead. In the background of the picture, she draws a sea. The water is still. With a thick, black pencil she outlines Ari’s body, floating high above the water, his face looking up towards a cloudless sky. At the edge of the water, Ilana lies naked. Her back is curved against a large boulder. She draws a rope around Ari’s waist. The end dangles near her hand. With her eyes fixed on the still water, she is casually raising her right hand towards the rope. She does not rise from the boulder and does not reach the rope. The bitch whimpers. Ilana stamps out her cigarette and runs her hand over the dog’s head.
“Sweet girl.”
Ilana leaves the gate open and climbs back into bed. Ari’s body is warm and familiar. She bends her back and stretches her arm up towards the window. Ari exhales and pushes his face deeper into the pillow. 
________

Ari put the photo of Abdul Naser into his breast pocket and signaled to his platoon to get ready.
     “You are sure that is him?” Itamar whispered.
Ari pushed the lens of his night vision goggles closer to his eyes and let the green static of electronic clutter settle. He identified the face of the young man at the table as Abdul Naser. He signaled to his squad to remain in place. Outside the house wild dogs sensed an unfamiliar presence and snapped viciously at the night air. He inched closer to the wall and lowered his body below the open window. He heard a chair scrape against the floor. He sunk lower and listened to approaching footsteps. He filled his lungs with air and remained dead still. Naser poked his head out of the window and slammed it shut. Ari exhaled and signaled to Itamar.
“I have positive identity,” Ari whispered. “We’re going in.”
Itamar motioned to the others. They checked their magazines were firmly in place and opened their safety latches. They moved in single file and crouched behind Itamar. The barking stopped. An eerie silence settled in. Ari signaled to one of the soldiers who was fluent in Arabic. The other soldiers took a knee and waited.
“The soldiers set up an ambush,” said the man in a low voice. “They wanted my keys. The captain pointed his gun at my foot and said he’d blow it off if I refused. I knew you had bomb equipment in the trunk. I made up some story that I needed it to get to work or I’d lose my job. The stupid captain believed me. He returned my keys but slammed me in the gut with his rifle. Broke two ribs. That’s how I got these scars.”
“You should’ve grabbed his gun and killed him,” Naser said.
Ari shut his eyes and reviewed the layout of the house and contingency plans in case they had weapons. A sharp pain ran through his stomach. A chair scratched over the floor again. He opened his eyes and signaled to the others to move closer to him.
“Ready,” he whispered.
     They nodded once to confirm.
     Ari moved towards the door with Itamar and, with a heavy iron, they busted the door wide open. Naser flipped over the table and bolted down the narrow hallway. Sounds of shattered glass and ceramics cut through the mother’s wail. “Get out, get out. This is my home,” she screamed.
The soldiers moved with precision. Each pointed their gun in different directions as they moved quickly into position. Three soldiers ran around the back to prevent Naser’s escape, another two restrained the father. They quickly wrapped a blindfold around his eyes and forced his hands behind his back. Lights flickered and the house went dark. Ari looked through the goggles to make sure everyone was in place.
“All good, Captain,” Itamar said.
A shadow moved under the door jamb of the room at the end of the hall. Ari signaled for the soldier with the heavy mag machine gun.

Praise From Readers