Yiddish Tales/Hirsh David Naumberg/The Rav and the Rav's Son

 

THE RAV AND THE RAV'S SON

The Sabbath midday meal is over, and the Saken Rav passes his hands across his serene and pious countenance, pulls out both earlocks, straightens his skullcap, and prepares to expound a passage of the Torah as God shall enlighten him. There sit with him at table, to one side of him, a passing guest, a Libavitch Chossid, like the Rav himself, a man with yellow beard and earlocks, and a grubby shirt collar appearing above the grubby yellow kerchief that envelopes his throat; to the other side of him, his son Sholem, an eighteen-year-old youth, with a long pale face, deep, rather dreamy eyes, a velvet hat, but no earlocks, a secret Maskil, who writes Hebrew verses, and contemplates growing into a great Jewish author. The Rebbetzin has been suffering two or three months with rheumatism, and lies in another room.

The Rav is naturally humble-minded, and it is no trifle to him to expound the Torah. To take a passage of the Bible and say, The meaning is this and that, is a thing he hasn't the cheek to do. It makes him feel as uncomfortable as if he were telling lies. Up to twenty-five years of age he was a Misnaggid, but under the influence of the Saken Rebbetzin, he became a Chossid, bit by bit. Now he is over fifty, he drives to the Rebbe, and comes home every time with increased faith in the latter's supernatural powers, and, moreover, with a strong desire to expound a little of the Torah himself; only, whenever a good idea comes into his head, it 436 NAUMBERG

oppresses him, because he has not sufficient self-con- fidence to express it.

The difficulty for him lies in making a start. He would like to do as the Rebbe does (long life to him !) give a push to his chair, a look, stern and somewhat angry, at those sitting at table, then a groaning sigh. But the Rav is ashamed to imitate him, or is partly afraid, lest people should catch him doing it. He drops his eyes, holds one hand to his forehead, while the other plays with the knife on the table, and one hardly hears :

"When thou goest forth to war with thine enemy thine enemy that is, the inclination to evil, oi, oi, a " he nods his head, gathers a little confidence, con- tinues his explanation of the passage, and gradually warms to the part. He already looks the stranger boldly in the face. The stranger twists himself into a correct attitude, nods assent, but cannot for the life of him tear his gaze from the brandy-bottle on the table, and cannot wonder sufficiently at so much being allowed to remain in it at the end of a meal. And when the Rav comes to the fact that to be in "prison" means to have bad habits, and "well-favored woman" means that every bad habit has its good side, the guest can no longer restrain himself, seizes the bottle rather awkwardly, as though in haste, fills up his glass, spills a little onto the cloth, and drinks with his head thrown back, gulping it like a regular tippler, after a hoarse and sleepy "to your health." This has a bad effect on the Rav's enthus- iasm, it "mixes his brains," and he turns to his son for help. To tell the truth, he has not much confidence in his son where the Law is concerned, although he 437

loves him dearly, the boy being the only one of his chil- dren in whom he may hope, with God's help, to have comfort, and who, a hundred years hence, shall take over from him the office of Eav in Saken. The elder son is rich, but he is a usurer, and his riches give the Kav no satisfaction whatever. He had had one daughter, but she died, leaving some little orphans. Sholem is, there- fore, the only one left him. He has a good head, and is quick at his studies, a quiet, well-behaved boy, a little obstinate, a bit opinionated, but that is no harm in a boy, thinks the old man. True, too, that last week people told him tales. Sholem, they said, read heret- ical books, and had been seen carrying "burdens" on Sabbath. But this the father does not believe, he will not and cannot believe it. Besides, Sholem is certain to have made amends. If a Talmid-Chochom commit a sin by day, it should be forgotten by nightfall, because a Talmid-Chochom makes amends, it says so in the Gemoreh.

However, the Eav is ashamed to give his own exe- gesis of the Law before his son, and he knows perfectly well that nothing will induce Sholem to drive with him to the Eebbe.

But the stranger and his brandy-drinking have so upset him that he now looks at his son in a piteous sort of way. "Hear me out, Sholem, what harm can it do you?" says his look.

Sholem draws himself up, and pulls in his chair, supports his head with both his hands, and gazes into his father's eyes out of filial duty. He loves his father, but in his heart he wonders at him; it seems to him 438 NAUMBERG

his father ought to learn more about his heretical lean- ings it is quite time he should and he continues to gaze in silence and in wonder, not unmixed with com- passion, and never ceases thinking, "Upon my word, Tate, what a simpleton you are !"

But when the Kav came in the course of his expo- sition to speak of "death by kissing" (by the Lord), and told how the righteous, the holy Tzaddikim, die from the very sweetness of the Blessed One's kiss, a spark kindled in Sholem's eyes, and he moved in his chair. One of those wonders had taken place which do frequently occur, only they are seldom remarked: the Chassidic exposition of the Torah had suggested to Sholem a splendid idea for a romantic poem !

It is an old commonplace that men take in, of what they hear and see, that which pleases them. Sholem is fascinated. He wishes to die anyhow, so what could be more appropriate and to the purpose than that his love should kiss him on his death-bed, while, in that very instant, his soul departs?

The idea pleased him so immensely that immediately after grace, the stranger having gone on his way, and the Eav laid himself down to sleep in the other room, Sholem began to write. His heart beat violently while he made ready, but the very act of writing out a poem after dinner on Sabbath, in the room where his father settled the cases laid before him by the townsfolk, was a bit of heroism well worth the risk. He took the writing-materials out of his locked box, and, the pen and ink-pot in one hand and a collection of manuscript verse in the other, he went on tiptoe to the table. THE BAV AND THE EAV'S SON 439

He folded back the table-cover, laid down his writing apparatus, and took another look around to make sure no one was in the room. He counted on the fact that when the Bav awoke from his nap, he always coughed, and that when he walked he shuffled so with his feet, and made so much noise with his long slippers, that one could hear him two rooms off. In short, there was no need to be anxious.

He grows calmer, reads the manuscript poems, and his face tells that he is pleased. Now he wants to collect his thoughts for the new one, but something or other hinders him. He unfastens the girdle round his waist, rolls it up, and throws it into the Eav's soft stuffed chair.

And now that there is nothing to disturb from with- out, a second and third wonder must take place within : the Eav's Torah, which was transformed by Sholem's brain into a theme for romance, must now descend into his heart, thence to pour itself onto the paper, and pass, by this means, into the heads of Sholem's friends, who read his poems with enthusiasm, and have sinful dreams afterwards at night.

And he begins to imagine himself on his death-bed, sick and weak, unable to speak, and with staring eyes. He sees nothing more, but he feels a light, ethereal kiss on his cheek, and his soul is aware of a sweet voice speaking. He tries to take out his hands from under the coverlet, but he cannot he is dying it grows dark.

A still brighter and more unusual gleam comes into Sholem's eyes, his heart swells with emotion seeking an outlet, his brain works like running machinery, a 440 NAUMBERG

whole dictionary of words, his whole treasure of con- ceptions and ideas, is turned over and over so rapidly that the mind is unconscious of its own efforts. His poetic instinct is searching for what it needs. His hand works quietly, forming letter on letter, word on word. Now and again Sholem lifts his eyes from the paper and looks round, he has a feeling as though the four walls and the silence were thinking to themselves: "Hush, hush! Disturb not the poet at his work of creation! Disturb not the priest about to offer sacri- fice to God."

To the Rav, meanwhile, lying in the other room, there had come a fresh idea for the exposition of the Torah, and he required to look up something in a book. The door of the reception-room opened, the Rav entered, and Sholem had not heard him.

It was a pity to see the Rav's face, it was so con- tracted with dismay, and a pity to see Sholem's when he caught sight of his father, who, utterly taken aback, dropt into a seat exactly opposite Sholem, and gave a groan was it ? or a cry ?

But he did not sit long, he did not know what one should do or say to one's son on such an occasion; his heart and his eyes inclined to weeping, and he retired into his own room. Sholem remained alone with a very sore heart and a soul opprest. He put the writing- materials back into their box, and went out with the manuscript verses tucked away under his Tallis-koton.

He went into the house-of-study, but it looked dread- fully dismal ; the benches were pushed about anyhow, THE EAV AND THE EAV'S SON 441

a sign that the last worshippers had been in a great hurry to go home to dinner. The beadle was snoring on a seat somewhere in a corner, as loud and as fast as if he were trying to inhale all the air in the building, so that the next congregation might be suffocated. The cloth on the platform reading-desk was crooked and tumbled, the floor was dirty, and the whole place looked as dead as though its Sabbath sleep were to last till the resurrection.

He left the house-of-study, walked home and back again; up and down, there and back, many times over. The situation became steadily clearer to him ; he wanted to justify himself, if only with a word, in his father's eyes; then, again, he felt he must make an end, free himself once and for all from the paternal restraint, and become a Jewish author. Only he felt sorry for his father ; he would have liked to do something to comfort him. Only what? Kiss him? Put his arms round his neck? Have his cry out before him and say, "Tatishe, you and I, we are neither of us to blame!" Only how to say it so that the old man shall understand ? That is the question.

And the Eav sat in his room, bent over a book in which he would fain have lost himself. He rubbed his brow with both hands, but a stone lay on his heart, a heavy stone; there were tears in his eyes, and he was all but crying. He needed some living soul before whom he could pour out the bitterness of his heart, and he had already turned to the Eebbetzin:

"Zelde !" he called quietly.

"A-h," sighed the Eebbetzin from her bed. "I feel bad ; my foot aches, Lord of the World ! What is it ?" 443 NAUMBEEG

"Nothing, Zelde. How are you getting on, eh?" He got no further with her; he even mentally repented having so nearly added to her burden of life.

It was an hour or two before the Eav collected him- self, and was able to think over what had happened. And still he could not, would not, believe that his son, Sholem, had broken the Sabbath, that he was worthy of being stoned to death. He sought for some excuse for him, and found none, and came at last to the con- clusion that it was a work of Satan, a special onset of the Tempter. And he kept on thinking of the Chassidic legend of a Eabbi who was seen by a Chossid to smoke a pipe on Sabbath. Only it was an illusion, a deception of the Evil One. But when, after he had waited some time, no Sholem appeared, his heart began to beat more steadily, the reality of the situation made itself felt, he got angry, and hastily left the house in search of the Sabbath-breaker, intending to make an example of him.

Hardly, however, had he perceived his son walking to and fro in front of the house-of-study, with a look of absorption and worry, than he stopped short. He was afraid to go up to his son. Just then Sholem turned, they saw each other, and the Eav had willy- nilly to approach him.

"Will you come for a little walk?" asked the Eav gently, with downcast eyes. Sholem made no reply, and followed him.

They came to the Eruv, the Eav looked in all his pockets, found his handkerchief, tied it round his neck, and glanced at his son with a kind of prayer in his eye. Sholem tied his handkerchief round his neck. THE BAY AND THE EAV'S SON 443

When they were outside the town, the old man coughed once and again and said:

"What is all this?"

But Sholem was determined not to answer a word, and his father had to summon all his courage to con- tinue :

"What is all this? Eh? Sabbath-breaking! It is"

He coughed and was silent.

They were walking over a great, broad meadow, and Sholem had his gaze fixed on a horse that was moving about with hobbled legs, while the Eav shaded his eyes with one hand from the beams of the setting sun.

"How can anyone break the Sabbath? Come now, is it right? Is it a thing to do? Just to go and break the Sabbath ! I knew Hebrew grammar, and could write Hebrew, too, once upon a time, but break the Sabbath ! Tell me yourself, Sholem, what you think ! When you have bad thoughts, how is it you don't come to your father? I suppose I am your father, ha?" the old man suddenly fired up. "Am I your father ? Tell me no ? Am I perhaps not your father ?"

"For I am his father," he reflected proudly. "That I certainly am, there isn't the smallest doubt about it! The greatest heretic could not deny it!"

"You come to your father," he went on with more decision, and falling into a Gemoreh chant, "and you tell him all about it. What harm can it do to tell him ? No harm whatever. I also used to be tempted by bad thoughts. Therefore I began driving to the Eebbe of Libavitch. One mustn't let oneself go! Do you hear me, Sholem? One mustn't let oneself go!" 444 NAUMBEEG

The last words were long drawn out, the Eav em- phasizing them with his hands and wrinkling his fore- head. Carried away by what he was saying, he now felt all but sure that Sholem had not begun to be a heretic.

"You see," he continued very gently, "every now and then we come to a stumbling-block, but all the same, we should not "

Meantime, however, the manuscript folio of verses had been slipping out from under Sholem's Four-Cor- ners, and here it fell to the ground. The Rav stood staring, as though startled out of a sweet dream by the cry of "fire." He quivered from top to toe, and seized his earlocks with both hands. For there could be no doubt of the fact that Sholem had now broken the Sab- bath a second time by carrying the folio outside the town limit. And worse still, he had practiced deception, by searching his pockets when they had come to the Eruv, as though to make sure not to transgress by having anything inside them.

Sholem, too, was taken by surprise. He hung his head, and his eyes filled with tears. The old man was about to say something, probably to begin again with "What is all this ?" Then he hastily stopt and snatched up the folio, as though he were afraid Sholem might get hold of it first.

"Ha ha azoi !" he began panting. "Azoi ! A heretic! A Goi."

But it was hard for him to speak. He might not move from where he stood, so long as he held the papers, THE KAV AND THE EAV'S SON 445

it being outside the Eruv. His ankles were giving way, and he sat down to have a look at the manuscript.

"Aha! Writing!" he exclaimed as he turned the leaves. "Come here to me," he called to Sholem, who had moved a few steps aside. Sholem came and stood obediently before him. "What is this ?" asked the Eav, sternly.

"Poems !"

"What do you mean by poems? What is the good of them?" He felt that he was growing weak again, and tried to stiffen himself morally. "What is the good of them, heretic, tell me!"

"They're just meant to read, Tatishe !"

"What do you mean by 'read'? A Jeroboam son of Nebat, that's what you want to be, is it? A Jeroboam son of Nebat, to lead others into heresy! No! I won't have it ! On no account will I have it !"

The sun had begun to disappear; it was full time to go home; but the Eav did not know what to do with the folio. He was afraid to leave it in the field, lest Sholem or another should pick it up later, so he got up and began to recite the Afternoon Prayer. Sholem remained standing in his place, and tried to think of nothing and to do nothing.

The old man finished "Sacrifices," tucked the folio into his girdle, and, without moving a step, looked at Sholem, who did not move either.

"Say the Afternoon Prayer, Shegetz!" commanded the old man.

Sholem began to move his lips. And the Eav felt, as he went on with the prayer, that this anger was cool- 29 446 NAUMBERG

ing down. Before he came to the Eighteen Benedictions, he gave another look at his son, and it seemed madness to think of him as a heretic, to think that Sholem ought by rights to be thrown into a ditch and stoned to death.

Sholem, for his part, was conscious for the first time of his father's will: for the first time in his life, he not only loved his father, but was in very truth subject to him.

The flaming red sun dropt quietly down behind the horizon just before the old man broke down with emo- tion over "Thou art One," and took the sky and the earth to witness that God is One and His Name is One, and His people Israel one nation on the earth, to whom He gave the Sabbath for a rest and an inheritance. The Rav wept and swallowed his tears, and his eyes were closed. Sholem, on the other hand, could not take his eye off the manuscript that stuck out of his father's girdle, and it was all he could do not to snatch it and run away.

They said nothing on the way home in the dark, they might have been coming from a funeral. But Sholem's heart beat fast, for he knew his father would throw the manuscript into the fire, where it would be burnt, and when they came to the door of their house, he stopped his father, and said in a voice eloquent of tears :

"Give it me back, Tatishe, please give it me back !"

And the Rav gave it him back without looking him in the face, and said :

"Look here, only don't tell Mother! She is ill, she mustn't be upset. She is ill, not of you be it spoken !"