in my fathers court venice

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books by ISAAC BASHEVIS SINGER

NOVELS

The Family Moslcat

The Magician of Lublin

The Manor {-work in progressSatanin Goray

The Slave

STORIES

GimpeldieFoolShortFriday

The Spinoza of Market Street

MEMOIRS

InMy Father's Court

ISAAC BASHEVIS SINGER

Inm yFATHER 'S

COURT/

FARRAR, STRAUS AND GIROUX



AUTHOR S NOTE

notonly feasible butnecessary was proved by thecontinuedexistence of theBethDinovermanygenerations.

It ismy firmest conviction thatthe courtof the future wOl

bebased ontheBethDin,provided theworldgoes morally forward instead of backward. Though die BethDin is rapidlydisappearing, I believe it will be reinstated andevolveintoauniversal institution. The conceptbehind it isthat there canbeno justice without godliness, and thatthebestjudgment isone accepted by allthe litigants with goodwfll and trust in

divine power. The opposite of theBethDinareall institutionsthatemployforce, whether of dierightortheleft

TheBeth Dincould exist only among apeople with a deepfaith and humility, andit reached its apex among the Jewswhen they werecompletely bereft of worldly power and influence. The weapon of die judge was the handkerchief thelitigants touched to signify their acceptance of the judgmentI have notattempted to idealize the BethDinor to endow itwith conditions andmoods thatwerenota part ofmy directexperience. The Bern Dinnot only differed in every genera

tion,buteveryRabbi who participated init colored it withhischaracter andpersonality. Onlythatwhichisindividual canbejustandtrue.

At times I thinkthattheBeth Din isan infinitesimal example

of the celestial council of justice, God's judgment, which theJewsregard asabsolute mercy.

The pieces inthisbookweretranslated by Channah Kleiner-

man-Goldstein, Elaine Gottlieb, andmy nephew Joseph Singer.

I am grateful for the editorial help of Robert Girouxand

HenryRobbing. I amalso grateful tothe editors of the follow

ing magazines, in which parts of the book previously appeared: American Judaism, Commentary, TheCritic, Harper's

Magazine, Jewish Heritage, and The Saturday Evening Post.

LB5.

V l l l

CONTENTS

Th e Sacrifice

Why theGeeseShrieked

A Broken EngagementA Gruesome Question

The Washwoman

A MajorDinTorah

The Family Tree

After theWedding

To Warsaw

The Oath

The Purim Gif t

The Suicide

To t he Land of IsraelThe Dispensation

The Secret

T h eWm

A Day of Pleasures

The Salesman

RebChayim Gorshkover

Re b Moishe Ba-ba-ba

Trait l

I Become a Collector

IX

3

17

23

29

35

43

49

54

60

67

73

80

8795

102

109

116

123

130

138

146



THE

SACRIFICE

Thebb abbin thisworldsome very strange individuals whose

thoughts are even stranger thantheyare.

In our house in Warsaw-No. 10 Krochmama Street-and

sharing ourhallway, there lived an elderly couple. Theywere

simple people. Hewas an artisan, orperhaps apeddler, and thdr

children were all married. Yet the neighbors said that, despitetheir advanced years, these twowere still inlove. Every Sabbathafternoon, after the cbolent, theywould go for awalk arm inarm. Inthegrocery, atthebutcher's—wherever she shopped—

she spoke only of hhn: He likes beans . . . be likes a goodpiece of beef . . . be likes veal. . . There are women like

thatwhonever stop talking about their husbands. He,in turn,

also would sayateveryopportunity, Mywife.Mymother, daughter of generations ofRabbis, frowned upon

the couple. To hersuch behavior was a sign of commonness.



TH E SACRIFICE

But,afteraD, love—especially between an elderlycouple-can-not be dismissed so easily.

Suddenly therewasa rumor that shocked everyone: theoldpeople weregoing tobe divorced

Krochmalna Streetwasin an uproar. What did this mean?

How couldit be? Youngwomenwrungtheirhands: Mamma,Fmgoing tobeill I feel faint Olderwomen proclaimed: Itisthe end of the world. The angryones cursed allmen: Wellnow, aren't men worse than beasts? Soon the s treet was

aroused by anevenmoreoutrageous report: they weregetting

die divorce sothatthe oldsinner couldmarryayounggirL Youmaywell imagine the curses that were heaped upondie oldman-a burning in hisbelly,a pain in bis black heart, a fire inhis bowels, a broken arm and leg,a plague, the judgment ofheaven uponhim The womenfolk spared no curse and prophesied thathewouldnot liveto seehiswedding day, theoldbillygoat—instead of awedding canopy hewould find ablack coffin.

In our home, in die meantime, the truth, the realtruth, came

to lightThe oldwoman herself came tomy mother andspoke to her

in such a manner that my mother's pale face flushed withembarrassment Although shetriedto chase me away sothatIwould not be able to hear, I did listen, for I was afire with

curiosity. The woman swore tomy mother that she loved herhusband morethan anything intheworld.

Dear lady, sheargued, I would gladly givemy lifeto savea fingernail of his. I am, woe isme, anoldwoman—a brokenshard-but he,he is stillaman.He needsawife.Why should hebe burdened with me? As long as the children were still at

home, one had to be careful People would gossip. But now

whattheysaymatters nomoreto methanthe cat's meow. I nolonger need a husband, buthe-mayhe bewell-islikea young

man. He canstillhave children. And now hehas found a girl

who wants him.Sheis past thirty;die timehas come forher,too,to hear the wedding music play. Besides, sheisan orphan

TH E SACRIFICE

and works for others as amaid; she wil l be good to him. Withher he will enjoy life. As for me, I am provided for. He willgive me enough tolive on, and I do alitde peddling on the side.What do I need atmyage? I only want to see Aim happy. Andhe promised me that-after ahundred and twenty years, whenthe time comes—I will lienext to him in thecemetery. In theother world I willagain be his wife. I will be his footstool inParadise. It hasallbeensettled.

The woman had come, quite simply, to ask my father toarrange thedivorce and then perform thewedding.

MyniQther tried to dissuade her. Like theother women, mymothersawin thisaffair anaffront to allwomankind. If alloldmen were tb start divorcing their wives and marrying younggirls, die world would beina fine state. Mother said that thewhole idea was clearly the work of the Evil One, and that suchlove isan impure thing. She even quoted_qne of thebooks onethics. But this shm) e_ woman, 300, could cite Scripture. She

reminded inymother ofhowRachel and Leah had given theirmaidservants,Bilhah andZilpah, toJacob asconcubines.

Though I was amere boy, I was not atall indifferent to thisaffair.I wantedit to come off. First of aD, I loved to be present

atadivorce. Second,atweddings I always gota piece of sponge

cake and a sip of brandy or wine. And third, when Fatherearned some money, I would be given a fewgroschen to buysweets.And then, after all,I wasa mm. . . .

When my mother saw that she could do nothing with thewoman, she sentherinto my father, who immediately began todiscuss the law. He warned her that after the divorce her

former husband would beasa touljtrangerto her. Shewould

not be allowed to remainunder the sameroof with him. She

would notbe permitted tosp^wmSbm Was she aware ofthis, or had she imagined that she could continue to be withhim? The woman replied thatshe knewthe laws, butthatshe

was dunking of bint, notof herself. For him she was ready to



TH E SACRIFICE

make anysacrifice, evengiveherlife.Father said hewould giveherananswer. Let hercomebackdienextday.

Afterthewoman left,Mother wentintothe studyand began

to argue with my father that she did not want him to earn

moneyby suchmeans. The old man, she said, was a woman-chaser, agoat, avulgar person, a lecher. Shesaid thatif hewereto grant this divorce and perform the marriage, the entire

communitywould be aroused againsthim.Father left to go tohisHasidic study house, to talkthematter overwith sensible

men. There, too,a heated argument took place, but the final.conclusion was that since both parties were in agreement, noone had the rightto interfere. One scholar even quoted theverse: In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening

withhold not thy hand. . . . According to the Gemara, thismeans thateven anelderly man is still obligated to be fruitfulandmultiply.''

The nextmorning, whentheold woman returned, this timewith herhusband, my father began to cross-examine her.I wassentout of the study.Father spoke gruffly, sometimes slowlyandsometimes faster, sometimes gentlyandsometimes in anger.I stood behind the door, but could hearlitde. I was afraidthat'

any minute now Father would burst out with: Scoundrels,

remember thatHe has notyet abandoned Hisworldto therole

of chaos and chase them out, as was his custom with thosewhodefied the law. Butanhour passed and thetwowere stillinside. The old man spoke slowly, in a broken voice. Thewoman pleaded. Her voice became softer and ever softer. Isensed thatshewas convincing my father. Shewhispered intimatesecrets to him, suchasamanseldom hears fromthe lipsof

a woman, suchasare only rarely discussed in the heavy tomes

of theResponsa. Whenhusband and wife left thestudy, theylooked happy. The old man wiped thesweat off his face withhiskerchief. The woman's eyesglowed as on the night after

6

TH E SACRIFICE

Yean Kippor, when one feds assured that the prayers for ahavebeen answered.appy year

paring the weeks that passed between that day and the•wedding, Krochmalna Street gaped and wondered. The com-nnrnitywas djvidedjntp.two parties. .TjLtjfeirjwas .discussed

egsqarftere: inthegrocery and atthebutcher's, atthe fish tubsin Yanash's bazaar andinthe fruit shops behind the markets; inthesynagogues oftheunlearned and intheHasidic study houses

wheredisciples gathered to tellof themiracles wrought by their

WonderRabbi andto disparage theclaims ofallrivals.Most excited, however, were th e women. The old wife

herself seemed to have lostallshame, Shewent .around praisingher husband's bride to the sides, brought presents for the

coupIe7r busied herself with die wedding preparations asriwwiph hi Mtnm rii* gfrl's imft»rThe otherwomenscorned or

pitied her. Heaven helpus—it just goes to show how anoldwoman canlosehermind All clungto the sameidea: the old

woman was crazy, and the husband, the old sinner, wantedto

get rid of her. All mocked her, allwere outraged, all werepuzzled. All asked die same question: How cansuch thingsbe? And theonlyanswer was: Well, yousee . . .

Hadtherebeenany younghooligans in the neighborhood,theymighthavemolested dieoldcouple orthe bride, butourneighbors werequietpeople. The husband himself wasa good-natured manwith awhitebeard andthemildeyesof thevery

old. He continued to come to the synagogue regularly. Hewoundthe leather straps of hisphylacteries around hisarmwitha trembling hand. The youngsters madefun of him, but henevershowed anger. He touched the ritual fringes of hisprayer

shawl to hiseyes. He kissed die phylactery thatis wornondieforehead, and then that which is placed on die arm. A Jewremains aJew,evenwhenextraordinary events befall him.Thetruth was that i t was not he who had talked hjs wife into this.

On die contrary, it had all been her_idea, he confidedto my

father. Shehadsimply overwhelmed him.The girl wasa poor



TH E SACRIFICE

orphan. The old woman herself went about happy, hopeful,smiling. Hereyes shone withaweird joy.At the same timethat husband andwifewerepreparing for

thedivorce and thesubsequent wedding, they also purchased acemetery plot They invited friends there, to the place ofeternal rest, and served cake and brandy. AD was mixed uptogether: fife, death, lust, boundless loyalty, and love. The oldwoman announced that when biswifewould give birth she, theex-wife, would care for the child because the young woman

would have to help earn a living. Women whoheard such talkspat out: God help us Heaven preserve us May aD evildreams come upon mem Others openly declared that thesewere thedoings of thedevil, of Satan himself. Andyet therewas something else. Although aD were wholeheartedly againstthe marriage, they were eager for itto take place as quickly aspossible. The entire street had been infected by a fever. Herelife was presenting a drama more exciting than those one readaboutinthepapers orsaw ina theater.

The divorce took place inour home. Two old people whohad loved each other withagreat love were nowdivorced. Thescribe wrote out the document with his goose qufll and wipedtheinkonhisskullcap. Every once inawhile hewould mumblesomething. His green eyes threw out sparks. Who knows?

Perhaps hewas thinking of his own better half ? . . . Thewitnesses signed. The old man sat there, bewildered, his eyesveiled by his brushlike white brows. His beard lay flat againsthis chest It was clear that he, the chief protagonist; wai.asperplexed aseveryone else. This idea hadnot been bornin bishead.Fromtime to time he took asnuff of tobaccoto relievehis

dejection. Occasionally hewould glance athis wife, who sat onthebench. UsuaDy the participants in a divorce wear modest, ,

even shabby, clothes, but the old womanhadadorned herself (with her holiday bonnet and aTurkish shawl. She replied to his j

8 i

TH E SACRIFICE

gaze with aradiant look. Her eyes were simply sparkling withfire. Mazel too See, I do everything for you, for you Isacrifice myself for you, I sacrifice myself. Accept this offeringgraciously, my lord and master. . . . If only I could, I wouldbaremythroat totheReaper's scythe for you. . . .

My mother paced impatiently up and downdie kitchen. Hermatron's wig was awry. Anangry flame burned inher eyes. Ientered the kitchen and asked for something to eat, but she

exclaimed in vexation: Get out Get outi Don't grab thingsfrom the pot

Even though IwasonlyasmaD boyand her own son, I was atthatmoment for heramember ofthedespicablemale sex.

I stood by whilethe oldwoman heldoutherwrinkled handsand die old man placed the writ of divorcement in them. My >

father then gave the customary instructions: that the woman /maynot remarry immediately butmustwait for three months.

The old one with her toothlessgums began tolaugh. What anidea She, thinkingofremarrying?

I donotremember how much later it was, butI know thateventuaOy the wedding also took place in my father s study.Under the canopy stood an old man and astout young woman.Four men held the rods ofdie canopy. Father gave the groomand bride a sip of wine. Everyone said, Mazel tovr anddrank brandy with sponge cake. Then, in another room, ameal was served. The cooking and all the preparations had

;V been done by the first wife. People said that the old womanig had had underclothes, slips, and skirts sewn for the bride,i^ for the girl had no proper clothes to wear. So many guests

came for the meal that aD our rooms were filled and peoplewere standing outinthehaDway.

For some time longer Krochmalna Street continued to bubbleand bofl. People would run after theold man and his new wifeand stare at them as though they were performing magicians or



Ill

7T '• —^^«

TH E SACRIFICE ***

Chinese with pigtails, such as occasionally came to our street

11to sell paper flowers. Butafter a while they found other thingsto talk about. After all, what i sso unusual about an old woman

Blosing her senses? Or an old man marrying a cook? Peoplebegan to say thatthe first wife already regretted whatshehaddone.The newwife didnotgivebirth. The oldmanfell ill.

WHY

THE

GEESE1 I regret, dearreader, thatI cannot reporta dramatic climax.

Hi' Likeeveryone else, I too eventually lostinterest. I onlyremem

ber that the old man diednot longafter the wedding, andbothwomen cried at th e funeral. Then th e ol d wife also breathed he r

last in some garret room. Even the fireof the Evil Inclination

SHRIEKED

111 1 does n ot b ur n forever.

II Whetherhusband andwifefinally werereunited inEden, and

11' whethershebecame his footstool there, I cannotsay.Whenyou

III yourself arrive there—after a hundred and twenty years—ask

f or t he mansion wherein dwell the former inhabitants of Kroch

malna Street.

In our hometherewasalways talkabout spirits ofthe dead that • possess the bodiesof the living, souls reincarnated as animals,

i\ houses inhabited by hobgoblins, cellars hauntedby demons. My

.'.. fatherspoke of these things, firstof allbecause hewas interested'.';;.. in them, andsecond because ina bigcity children so easily gog*> astray. They go everywhere, sec everything, read profanem books. It is necessary to remindthem from time to time thatm. therearcstillmysterious forcesatworkin theworld.SRI One day he told us a story that isfound in one of the holym- books. If I am not mistaken, the author of that book is Rabbi

ng Eliyahu Graidiker, or one of the other Graidiker sages. TheBpj; story was about agirl possessed by four demons. Itwas said that'fij they could actually be seen crawling around in her intestines,

1 0m



W HY TH E GEESE SHR IEKED

blowing upherbelly, wandering from onepartofherbody toanother, slithering into her legs. The Rabbi of Graidik hadexorcised the evilspiritswith the blowing of the ram's horn,with incantations, and the incenseof magicherbs.

When someone questioned these things, my father becameveryexcited. Heargued: Wasthenthegreat Rabbi ofGraidik,God forbid,a liar? Arc allthe rabbis, saints, and sages deceivers,while onlyatheists speak thetruth? Woeisus Howcanonebeso blind?

Suddenly the door opened, and a woman entered. She wascarrying a basket inwhich there were two geese. Thewomanlooked frightened. Her matron's wigwas tilted to one side. Shesmilednervously.

Fathernever looked at strange women, because itis forbiddenby Jewish law, but Mother and we children saw immediatelythat something hadgreatly upset our unexpected visitor.

What is it? Fatherasked, at thesametimeturninghis backsoas not to look upon her.

Rabbi,Ihaveaveryunusual problem.What isit?A woman's problem?

Had the woman said yes, I wouldhave been sentout of theroom immediately. But she answered: No, it's about these

geese.What is themat terwi th them?

DearRabbi, thegeese wereslaughtered properly. ThenI cut

off their heads. I took ou t th e intestines, the livers, all the otherorgans, but the geese keep shrieking in such a sorrowfulvoice. . . .

Upon hearing these words, myfather turned pale. A dreadfulfear befell me, too. But my mother camefrom a family of

rationalists andwasbynaturea skeptic.

' Slaughtered geesedon't shriek, shesaid.

You willhearforyourself, replied thewoman.

I She took oneofthe geese and placed itonthe table. Then shej took out the second goose. The geese were headless, disem-

1 2

WHY TH E GEESE SHRIEKED

boweled-in short, ordinary dead geese. A smile appeared onmy mother's lips.

And these geese shriek?Yon will soon hear.

The womantook one goose and hurled it against the other.Atonce a shriek was heard. It isnoteasy to describe thatsound.It was like the cackling of a goose, but in sucha high, eeriepitch, with such groaning and quaking, that my limbs grewcold. I could actually feel the hairs ofmy earlocks pricking me.I wanted to run from the room. But where would I run? My

throat constricted with fear. Then I, too, screamedand clung tomymother's skirt, like a child of three.

Father forgot that one must avert one's eyesfrom a woman.He ran to the table.He was nolessfrightened than I. His redbeard trembled. In hisblue eyescould beseena mixtureof fear

and vindication. For my fatherthiswasa signthat not only tothe Rabbi of Gra id ik , but to him, too, omens were sent from

heaven. But perhapsthis was a sign from the Evil One, from

Satan himself?

Whatdoyou saynow? asked the woman.

Mymother was no longer smiling. In her eyes there wassomething likesadness, and alsoanger.

I cannot understand whatisgoing on here, shesaid, withacer tain resentment .

Do you wantto hearit again?

Again the woman threw one goose against the other. Andagain the dead geese gave forth an uncanny shriek—the shriekof dumb creatures slain by the slaughterer's knife, who yetretaina living force, who still have a reckoning to make withthe living, an injustice to avenge. A chillcreptoverme.I feltasthough someone hadstruckmewithall hismight.

My father's voice became hoarse. It was broken as though by ?sobs. Well, can anyonestill doubt that there is a Creator? he /asked. '

Rabbi,what shallI do and where shallI go? The woman

13



WHY TH E GEESE SHR IEKED

Nor have I, said my mother. But there is always anexplanation. Deadgeesedon't shriek.

CanI go homenow andcookthem? askedthe woman. Go home and cook them for the Sabbath. Mother pro

nounced the decision. Don't be afraid. They won't make asound in yonr pot.

What doyou say, Rabbi?

Hmm . . . they are kosher, murmured Father. They canbe eaten. He was not really convinced, but he could not now

pronounce the geese unclean.Motherwent backto the kitchen. I remained with my father.

Suddenly he beganto speakto me asthough I were an adult.

Yourmother takes after your grandfather, the Rabbi of Bil-goray. He is a great scholar, but a cold-blooded rationalistPeoplewarnedmebeforeourbetrothal . . .

mAndthenFatherthrewuphishands, asif tosay:It istoo latenow to calloff the wedding.

16

A

BROKEN

ENGAGEMENT

I ojten- served as my father's messenger and would frequentlybesent to summon theparties to a Din Torah, or rabbinic trial.One such errand has remained particularly v iv id in my m ind.A young man dressed in Western fashion came to see myfather and demanded that his fiancee, who lived at No. 13

Krochmalna Street, be called to a trial. Father immediately toldme to go for her and her father.

Inorder toget there from our house, No. 10, one had only tocross the street However, No. 13 bordered on the ill-famed

Krochmalna Square, where pickpockets and hoodlums loiteredand dealers in stolen goods carried on their trade. The housesfacing the Square also harbored a number of brothels. Evenregular commerce was carried on in an underhand manner: if

one wanted to buy a tchaste—z kind of chocolate-coveredcracker—one pulled numbers from a hat or spun a wooden

J7



A BROKEN ENGAGEMENT

wheel. Yet in these same houses dwelt decent men, piouswomen, chaste girls. There were even a few Hasidic studyhouses.

It was summer. TheSquare was crowded. Inthecourtyard ofNo. 13, children were at play. Boys played at being soldiers, orcops-and-robbers; girls jumped hopscotch, played jacks. Top-spinning contests, with nuts asprizes, were going on.I foundmany temptations to linger andenter intoone of thegames. But

a messenger isamessenger . . . I ran up the stairs. Onthefirstfloor the building still looked quite presentable. As I climbedhigher, however, thepaint onthewalls was more cracked, therailing shakier, the stairs dirtier. Doors stood wide open. From

the kitchens issuedsteam, the soundsof hammers, the hum of

sewing machines, the songs of seamstresses and apprentices-even of gramophones. Thepeople to whom I was sent lived ina garret. I opened the door and saw a man with a full, darkbeard, and a girl who was quite decently dressed, in modern

style. Theman was sitting atthetable, eating his dinner. Thegirlwas serving him a broth, or perhaps a bowl of borscht Helookedup at meangrily.

What doyou want?Youarc called to come to th e Rabbi fo r a Din Torah.

Who called me?

Yourdaughter's betrothed.

The man muttered something. The girl, too, lookedangrilya t m e .

Well, what dowedo now? sheaskedher father.

When oneiscalled, onegoes heanswered sullenly.

He finished eating andhurriedly said the grace. The girl puton a coat andstraightened her hair before a mirror. Then all

three of us startedout. Usually undersuch circumstances those

who had been summoned would begin to argue with me. But

this time father and daughter maintained silence—an ominous

18

\

A BROKEN ENGAGEMENT

slence. Thus I brought them tothehouse. Father asked the mantobeseated. Thegirlremained standing: there were noseats for•women inmyfather's study.

Fathernowbeganthe customary ritualof questions.

Who is the plaintiff?

I amthe plaintiff, answered the youngman.

And what isit you want?I wanttobreakoffthe engagement \

Why?Because I donotloveher, answered theyoungman.

My fatherwas visibly upset. I blushed. Just asher fatherwasdark,sullen, bearded, heavy, sothe girlwas fair, smooth, light.Shesmclled of chocolateandperfume.Her shoes hadhigh,thin

heels. I could not understand howanyonecouldsay that he didnot lovesuch a princess. But the young man was himself a

dandy. Whatdidhecareaboutaprettygirl?

\ Fatherpulledat hisbeard. Andwhatelse?

': That is all,Rabbi.And you,what do you say to this? My fatherasked the

question insucha way thatit was hardto tellwhether he was

addressing thefatheror thegirL

Ilovehim, saidthegirL drylyandalmost angrily.

In most cases myfathercame to a quick decision. Usually hearranged some compromise solution. Butwhatsortof compromise was possible here? He looked atmeasif to ask: what doyou say to this? But I was as puzzled as he. Then he said•something that I had never heard himsay. In recent years the

customhad been established by the official state-appointed

Rabbis to callasideone or the other of the partiesto a dispute

for a sub rosa conference. Father had frequently declared hisdisapproval of this practice—a Rabbi sitting in judgment must

J9



A BROKEN ENGAGEMENT

not speak secretly witheitherof the litigants. YetnowI heardhim say, Please come withme.

He stood upandbeckoned to theolderman. Both wentintoan adjacent alcove. And I—what did I do? Naturally, I wentalong. If there was a secret,I wantedto hearit too.The door

to the study remained ajar.My ears were directedtoward myfather andthe olderman, but my eyes toward the elegantyoungcouple.

And nowI saw something most extraordinary. The prettygirl walked overto herfiance, they talked a while, they arguedin an undertone, and suddenly I heard a resounding slap. Aminute later, another. I cannotrecall who slapped whom first,but I do know that they both did,and yet i t was all donequietly—not at all in the manner of Krochmalna Street Theyslapped eachother andmovedapart Father hadheardandseen

nothing. I hadthe impression that the girl's father hadsensed

something of what was happening, but he acted as though hehad not noticed anything. Tears rose tomyeyes. Forthe firsttime I inhaled the poignant aroma of love, of adulthood, andofthemysteriesthat hover betweenman andwoman.

I heard myfathersay: Since he does notwantto many her,what's to be done?

Rabbi, wedon'twanthim, cither, answered theman grum-

blingly. He is a hoodlum, a spendthrift—everything that'srotten. He runs around with other girls.There's nosin hehasn't

committed. We wantedto berid of hima longtimeago,but he

\j gave her presents—and the presents we don't want to return.That'stheonlyreason she says shestillloves him. Actually she'

- can 't bear him—that is th e real truth of the matter. But we will

not return the gifts.What kind of gifts?A ring,a necklace, a brooch.

2

Maybe you can make some compromise?Nocompromise We'll return nothing NothingHm, I see. Goback now andsend theyoung man in,please.

Then Fatherreturnedto thestudy andmutteredat the fiance,

-Get in thereThe youngmancamein quickly.

You really don't want tomarry her? asked my father. No, Rabbi.

Perhaps one can still endeavor to make peace between youtwo?

No,Rabbi.It is impossible.

• Peace isthefoundation upon which theworld stands.. Therecanbenopeace withher. SheisagoodJewish girl.

V Rabbi, we are not yet married and already she has begun to 1a >ag me for money. I have an old mother to support, and she l.V-*,'won't let me. I had torender her an account ofevery kopeck I•Reamed. I f it is like that now, what will it be like later? During a1^ ;the busy season Iearn forty rublesaweek. Her father isamiser. I£: ftey have money put away. They just want to suck the last&V >penny out ofeveryone else. Whenever I took her toa restau-'tyrant, she ordered the most expensive things on the menu—not

igbecausc she was hungry but just to take advantage ofme. If I¥,ever came to the house without bringing her a present, herI'father got excited. She even told me exactly what to get her as ajjPurim gift. And it was like that with everything. They wereKonly afraid that somehow I would fool them. I never

'[knew there are people like that And what was it all for? I'mnotIstingy. Everything would have been hers anyway. But when IIgave herthe necklace, she ran from one jeweler to another tohave it appraised. Rabbi, such alifeisnotforme

So, then, youreally want toendit?Yes, Rabbi.

Andthe presents?

2 1



A GRUESOME QUESTION

the face of the moon, and with the shapesof the clouds.Themysteries of the Torah were one with the mysteries of theworld,and I somehow never sensed this quite as acutelyas onSaturday after sundown, just before the candles were lit Inanother room my mother would sit murmuring softly theprayer GodofAbraham. Our home at this time was permeated bythespirit ofGod, ofangels, ofsecrets, and filled with aspecial longing andyearning thatdefydescription.

And finally the beloved Sabbath was over and a new week

began. Thehurricane lamps were lit, the evening prayers said,and the braided valedictory candle lit After my father saidgrace over the wine, the men dipped their fingers in it anddaubed their eyes as a charm to insure a prosperous week.During thewinter months Mother would go into thekitchen toprepare hotgrits. Father recited the chapter, And God shallgive youof thefatoftheearth, andthestory ofthepoor saintwho sold the prophet Elijah into slavery for 800,000 guldens.And thena fire was kindled in our tilestoveto heatthe living

room

The mensatin theirSabbath clothes, sipped teawith lemon,and discussed Hasidic matters and world affairs. Th e house was

filled withtheodorof burning wax, blessed spices, and with anatmosphere of wonder and miracles. My father was a smokerand hewould wait quietly butanxiously all through theSabbathforthemoment whenhecould lighta cigarette orhispipe.

.Onthis particular Sabbath evening, fresh snow had fallen andtheground outside seemed to take ona special look of brightness. Frost palms blossomed onthewindowpanes, reminding me

of th e Land of Israel

In die midst of thisspirit of hopeful anticipation, with itspromise ofblessings andfulfillment, thedoor opened and a poorJew entered. He was notlikeanordinary pauper but like anoldstorybook beggar. His caftan was full ofholes and patches, withthe quilted cotton and buckram showing through thelining. Hiscap was peeling. His beard was icyand I think there were icicles

24

\

A GRUESOME QUESTION

h tspng down from it- The man entered and br0USht with him~*Tharshness of the everyday world and the coldness of theoutdoors.

;: A go°d week, Rabbi. •• A good week to you , and a good year. What have you to

- I opened my eyes wide. This ragged individual reminded meif'the stories of the thirty-six saints who dedicated themselves' . to a life of poverty as water carriers, wood choppers, and

•\- iolicitorsof alms..»S& Rabbi, Iwantto ask a question.

£v Well, ask it.:•, Rabbi, mayamansleep withhisdead wife?[ 5 Astrange silence ensued. I felt a chill go through my body.jjVlhe men turned pale. My father's face froze.

Idonotunderstand whatyouaretalking about, my father

^finally stammered. Rabbi,I am not insane, the man said. My wife died on

Friday. I live ina cellar where there are rats. The funeral will

JSake place onSunday. I cannot leave the corpse onthe floor be-l&cause the rats would, God forbid, gnaw it to bits. I have onlyKone bed.Shemustliein that bed.AndL Rabbi, cannot sleep on

P.the floor cither. Theratswould getme, too11 have already satmap one night, but my strength is gone. So I want to know,I'babbi,may I lie inbed with this corpse?• Asthe manuttered theselastwords,I sawmy father'sfaceas

I had never seen it before. I t was flooded with tears. There was

one gush and everything was wet—eyes, cheeks, red beard.There was a stirring among themen, followed byan outcry.There was a scraping of boots and thedrumming of fingers onthe table. My father took out his large handkerchief towipe his

eyes and blow his nose. In a broken voice, hesaid: Men, didyou hear? Woe,woe.

God spare us,God spare us, said oneofhis followers. Unheard of, unheard of, answered another.

25



A GRUESOME QUESTION

Well,whyarcyousilent? Letusdosomething.The men did not have money in their satin Sabbath gabar

dines. Butthey all lived nearby andranhome togetmoney. Myfather, whokepthis money ina tin box, tookout several notesright away. My mother heard thecommotion and came runningin from thekitchen to see whathad happened. She turned pale,reddened, and paled again. Always in crises like these mymother's wigwould become disheveled asthough it were alive;several strands (made of silk, not human hair) fell on her

forehead and cheeks; a hairpin sprang out; her bun loosened.My mother went back into the kitchen toget food for the poorman, and returned with tea, a biscuit, and some leftover prunestew. The poor man went over to the waterbarrel to washhishands. A young man returned to the house with the news thathe had obtained amakeshift cotforthe man. Women neighborscame into our house, wrung their hands, and milled aroundamong the menfolk.

Wemust goandsee, somebody said.My father was not allowed to enter a roomwhere there was a

v- corpse, because hewas descended from the priestly caste. Butthis was not forbidden other Jews. While the poor man waseating and reviving himself, contributions poured in from all

sides. Someone brought a padded jacket, a shirt, a pair ofsocks,a fur cap. They showered the poor fellow with a completewardrobe. After he had finished eating and said the appropriateblessing, he was taken home by a host of people, one carryingthe cotand others carrying the food. I was not permitted togo

-along because I, too, was descended from the priestly line.JBesides, I had adread ofthese things from my earliest childhood.Butmy curiosity apparently was stronger than my fears. Theman lived on Krochmalna Street, and as we went into the

courtyard, most of the men remainedoutside. Others started to

make their way down the dark and dingy stairs. I took a quicklook through the cellar window and saw an eerie sight This wasnot an ordinary cellar apartment, but a cave, a hole in the

26

A GRUESOME QUESTION

' »th. The walls were as black as the inside of a chimney,nr&m lights flickered in the darkness, and on the bed there

Uyhuman form covered bya shawL I could not see clearly

because the windowpancs were obscured by frost and ice, withclear spot only inthe center where the ice had been melted by

the warm breath of the curious onlookers. This man lived in theground. There, inthe gloom, inthe cold and filth, hepursued hiswretched existence with his wife, waging waron thehordes ofcrawling creatures who attacked his flesh and his scraps of

bread.And nowthesevicious beasts threatenedto mutilate thismartyred body.I was tom betweentwo conflicting emotions. My fear dic

tated that I turn my eyes the other way, but my curiosity. demanded just another glance. I knew that I would pay forM each look with nightmares and torment, but each time anewa | leaned forward to sec this living grave. The flames whichhi;' glimmered below only served to intensify the darkness. It

appeared to me that I could see all kinds of evil spirits and1''.sprites romping around this unspeakable place. Theyassumed allnptt> of fearful shapes. Cana person survive in suchan abyss?

|'Can a man confined to such a sordid place keep his sanity? I^suddenly felt a tightness inmy head and an icy shudder ranI'down my spine. Could it be that he who dwells here ishimselfVa ghost?

Men and women busied themselves in th e cel lar and someone

R moved thecandles. They seemed to belifting something. I wasL° ready to turn and run, but nowI was inno condition to go

home alone. I was afraid because the steps to our flat were

sometimes unlitand at other timesilluminated onlyby a smokykerosene lamp withouta chimney and without a cap.A managreed togo back withme. I was shaking all over andmyteethwere chattering. Something within me cried and asked, Howcan God permitthis?

When I was led into the house, my mother began to wringher hands. Woe is me Just look at this child

27



A GRUESOME QUESTION

Theywarmed meup and blew onme. Mymother recited anincantation. I was given tea and preserves and all of the goodieswhich were inthehouse. Myfather paced back and forth in hisstudy. He chewed his beard and rubbed his forehead. He was

by nature a believer, but this incident had awakeneddoubts inhim.

Dear Father in Heaven . . . Woe he cried out. Itishightime foroursalvation . . . time . . . high time.

Our Sabbath night was ruined and the week that followed

was a meager one because my father had given partof mymother's weekly allowance to the poorman. LaterI heard talkthatit was odd indeed fora Jew to have only one bed in his

house. This was known among peasants, but it was unheard ofeven among the most impoverished Jews. But who knows,perhaps he had a second bed that had been broken? Perhaps he

had to use it for kindling wood? The squalor that one some

times finds in large cities is rarely found insmall towns. Foralong, long time afterwards therewastalk in our house of thisgrim episode and for a long period thereafter I was afflictedwith nightmares. I often saw this man later, ashe went abouttrading and mingling with the people. But I was always afraid ofhim. I always remembered his visit that Sabbath evening, and hisgruesome question.

28

r

r

; , •

THE

WASHWOMAN

Ouxhomehad LITTLE contact withGentiles. TheonlyGentile

hithehouse was the janitor. Fridays hewould come foratip,his

Friday money. Heremained standing atthedoor, took offhis

hat, andmymother gave himsixgroschen.. Besides the janitor there were also the Gentile washwomen

who came to thehouse

to fetch our laundry. Mystoryisabouton e of these.

Shewasa small woman,old andwrinkled.When shestarted

.washing for us she was already past seventy. Most JewishWomen of her age were sickly, weak, broken in body. AH theold women in our street had bent backs and leaned on sticks

when they walked. But this washwoman, small and thin as shewas, possessed astrength that came from generations ofpeasantforebears. Motherwouldcount out to her a bundleof laundry

that had accumulated over several weeks. She would lift the

29



THE WASHWOMAN

unwieldy pack, load it onhernarrow shoulders, and carryit thelongway home. She also livedon Krochmalna Street,but at theother end,near Wola. I t must havebeena walk of an hour and a

half.

Shewouldbringthe laundry backabout twoweeks later. Mymother hadnever beenso pleased with anyotherwashwoman.Every piece of linen sparkled like polished silver. Every piecewasironed.Yetshechargedno more than the others.Shewasareal find. Mother always had her money ready, because it wasto o fa r fo r the ol d woman to come a second t ime.

Laundering was noteasyin those days. The old woman had' no faucet where she lived but had to bringin the waterfrom a1/ pump. For the linens to come out so clean, they had to be

scrubbed thoroughly in a washtub, rinsed with washing soda,soaked, boiled inanenormous pot, starched, ironed. F.vcry piecewashandled ten times or more. And the drying It could notbedone outside because thieves would steal the laundry. The

wrung-out wash hadto be carried up to theattic andhungonclotheslines. In the winter it would becomeasbrittle asglass and

almost break when touched. Then there was always a to-dowith other housewives and washwomen who wanted t he a tt ic

1 for their own use. Only God knew all she had to endure eacht ime s he d id a wash

The old woman could have beggedat the church door orentered a home for the indigent aged. But therewas in her a

certainpride and a loveof labor with which the Gentiles havebeen blessed. Th e old woman did not want to become a burden,

an d thus sh e bore he r burden.

My mother spoke a littlePolish, and the old womanwouldtalkwithher aboutmany things. She was especially fond ofmeandused tosaythatI looked likeJesus. Sherepeated thisevery

time shecame, andMother would frownand whisper to herself,her lips barely moving, May her words be scattered in the

wilderness.

The woman hada sonwhowas rich. I no longer remember

30

THE WASHWOMAN

.. . ^rt 0f business he had. He was ashamed of his mother, theZThwoinan, and never came to see her. Nor did he ever give*^ eroschen. The old woman told this without rancor. One>v t],e son was married. It seemed that he had made a good

The wedding took place in a church. The son had not

1

1:

Urited the old mother to his wedding, but she went to thechurch and waited atthesteps to sec her son lead the youngUdy to the altar. I do not want to seem a chauvinist, but I )

believe that no Jewish son would have acted in this manner. But {I have nodoubt that, had hedone this, themother would havejhrieked andwailed andsent thesexton to callhimto account.In short,Jewsarc Jews and Gentilesare Gentiles.

Thestoryofthe faithless sonlefta deep impression upon my :mother. She talked about it for weeks and months. It was an , 'affront notonlyto theoldwoman but to the entire institutionof motherhood. Motherwould argue. Nu, docsit pay to makesacrifices for children? The mother uses up her last strength,

andhedoesnot evenknowthemeaning of loyalty.'•And shewoulddropdark hints to the effect thatshewas notcertain of her own children: Who knows what they would

someday do? This, however, didnot prevent her from dedicatingher life to us.If there was any delicacy in the house, shewould putit aside forthechildren andinvent all sorts ofexcusesandreasons whysheherself didnotwantto taste it She knewcharmsthat went back to ancient times, and she used expres

sions she had inherited from generations of devoted mothers andgrandmothers. If oneof the children complained of a pain, shewould say, May I be your ransom andmay you outlive mybones Or shewould say, May I be the atonement for theleast ofyourfingernails. Whenweatesheused to say, Healthandmarrow inyourbones Thedaybefore thenew moon shegaveus a land of candy that was said to prevent parasitic

worms. If oneof us had something in his eye.Mother wouldlick the eyeclean withher tongue. Shealso fedus rock candyagainst coughs, andfromtimeto timeshewould takeusto be

31

I



THE WASHWOMAN

blessed against the evil eye. This did not prevent her fromstudying The Duties of the Heart The Book of the Covenantandotherserious philosophic works.But to r et urn to the washwoman: that winter was a harsh

one. The streets were in the grip of a bitter cold. No matterhow much we heated our stove, the windows were covered

with frostwork and decorated with icicles. The newspapers

reported thatpeople were dying of thecold. Coal became dear.

The winterhadbecome so severe that parents stopped sendingchildren to the hcder, and even the Polishschoolswere closed.On one suchday the washwoman, now nearly eighty years

old, came to our house. A good deal of laundry had accumulated during the past weeks. Mother gave hera pot of tea towarm herself,as well assome bread. The old woman sat on akitchen chair trembling and shaking, and warmed her handsagainst the teapot. Her fingers were gnarled from work, andperhaps from arthritis too. Her fingernails were strangely white.These hands spoke ofthestubbornness of mankind, ofthewilltoworknotonly asone's strength permits butbeyond thelimitsofone's power. Mother counted and wrote down the list: men'sundershirts, women's vests, long-legged drawers, bloomers, petticoats, shifts, featherbed covers, pillowcases, sheets, and the

men's fringed garments. Yes, the Gentile woman washed theseholy garments as well.

The bundle was big, bigger than usual. When the woman

placed it onhershoulders, it covered her completely. At firstsheswayed, asthough she wereabout to fall under theload. Butaninnerobstinacy seemed to callout: No, you maynot fall. Adonkey may permit himself to fall under his burden, butnot ahuman being, thecrownof creation.

It was fearful to watch the old woman staggeringout with

the enormous pack, out into the frost, where the snow was dryassaltandthe air was filled with dusty white whirlwinds, like

goblins dancing inthecold. Would theoldwoman ever reachWola?

32

TH E WASHWOMAN

- She disappeared, and Mother sighed and prayed for her. -TTsually thewoman brought back thewash after twoor, at

most, three weeks. But three weeks passed, then four and>tnd nothing was heard of theold woman. We remained

'.•KjSagxjut linens. The cold had become even more intense. The•^liffihone wires were now as thick as hawsers. The branches of:':: Ao trees looked like glass. So much snow had fallen that the•.'inteta had become uneven, and onmany streets sleds were able *agijde down as on the slopes ofa hill. Kindhcartcd people lit

;..'jflres in the streets for vagrants to warm themselves and roast.?.' potatoes over, if they had any toroast' ,• For us the washwoman's absence was a catastrophe. Wey4.Jjeedcd thelaundry. Wedidnoteven know thewoman's housegj iddrcss. It seemed certain that she had collapsed, died. Mother |^|* declared that she had had a premonition, as the old woman left jf$ jxar house die last time, that we would never see our things I

.She found some torn old shirts and washed them, mended

We mourned, both for the laundry and for the old,comwoman who hadgrown close to us through the years

»hadservedus so faithfully.B^More than two months passed. The frost had subsided, and

a new frost had come, a new waveof cold. One evening,Mother was sitting near the kerosene lamp mending athe dooropened anda small puffof steam, followed by atic bundle, entered. Under the bundle tottered the old

her faceaswhiteasa linensheet.A few wisps of white

straggled out from beneath her shawl. Mother uttered af-choked cry. It was as though a corpse had entered the

I ran toward the oldwoman and helped her unload herJpack. She was even thinner now, more bent. Her face hadp become more gaunt, and her head shook from side to side as

E though shewere saying no. She could notuttera clear word,Kbutmumbled something with hersunken mouth andpale lips.

After the old woman had recovered somewhat, she told us

thatshehad been ill,veryill.Justwhather illness was, I cannot

33



T HE WA SHWOMAN

remember. She had been so sick that someone had called adoctor, and the doctor had sentfor a priest. Someone hadinformed the son, and he had contributed money for a coffinand for the funeral. Butthe Almighty had notyetwanted totake this pain-racked soul to Himself. She began to feel better,she becamewell,and assoonas shewas ableto stand on her feet

once more she resumed her washing. Not just ours, but the

wash of several other families too.

I could not rest easy inmybed because ofthewash, theoldwoman explained. The wash would notletme die.With the help of God you will live to be a hundred and

twenty, said mymother, asa benediction. God forbid What good would such a long life be? The

work becomes harder and harder—my strength is leaving me—I

donotwantto bea burdenonanyone

The old woman muttered and crossed herself,and raisedher

eyes toward heaven. Fortunately there was some money urthehouse and Mother counted out what she owed. I had a strange

feeling: the coins in the old woman's washed-out hands seemedto become as weary and clean and pious asshe herself was. Sheblew on the coinsand tied them in a kerchief. Then she left,

promising toreturn inafew weeks for anew load ofwash.But she never came back The wash she had returned was her

lasteffort on thisearth. Shehadbeendriven byan indomitable

will to return theproperty to its rightful owners, to fulfill thetaskshe had under taken.

Andnowat last thebody,which had long beenno more than

a broken shard supported onlyby the force of honesty andduty, had fallen. The soul passed into those spheres where all

holy souls meet, regardless of the roles they played on thisearth,in whatevertongue,of whatevercreed. I cannot imagine

Eden wi thout th is washwoman. I c anno t e ven conceive of a

i worldwhere thereisno recompense for such effort.

34

II

A

MAJOR

D IN

TORAH

The disputes that were brought to my father for arbitration iwere usuallypetty ones. The sums involved would be about

twenty, or at the most fifty, rubles. I had heard that there

were Rabbis to whom big cases, involving thousands ofrubles, were brought, and each side would be represented byitsown arbitrator. But this happened only to the richRabbis _who lived in the north of Warsaw, not inour part of town.

But one winter a major lawsuitwasbrought to our house.To ithis day I do not know why these wealthy people chose myfathertobe theirjudge, forhewasknown asa naive, unworldlyman.My mothersat in die kitchenandworried.Shefearedthathewouldnot understand these complicated matters. Earlythat

35



A MAJOR DIN TORAH

morning, Father had taken down the Hoshen Mishpat andimmersed himself init: if hewasnot an expert on questions ofbusiness and commerce, he would at least be sure of the law.

Soon the litigants came and brought their arbitrators—themselves Rabbis. Oneof the litigants was tall,witha sparse, black

beard and angry, coal-black eyes. He wore a long fur coat,shiny galoshes, and a fur hat. His lipshelda cigarin an amber

cigar holder. An auraof importance, learning, and shrewdnessemanated from him.When he removed hisovershoes, I sawgilt

letters on the red lining and was told that these were monograms. He had brought an arbitrator—a Rabbi with a milky-

whitebeardandyoung, laughing eyes. The Rabbi hada roundpotbelly, anda silver chaindangled across hissilkvest

The second litigant was a small, graymanikin, dressed inafoxpelt,athickcigarbetween his lips; he had brought a spokesman

whohada broad, yellow beard, a nose likethe beak of-abird,

and round, birdlike eyesto match. When he removed his hathe remained for a few moments bareheaded. Then he put on a

silken skullcap of thestylewornbyLitvaks.In our house, the study of Torah was the only subject of

importance, but these men brought with them an element ofworldliness. I gaped and wondered. The Rabbis—the arbitrators

—exchanged jokes. They smiled well-practiced smiles. My

mother s erved tea with l emon and cookies le ft from th e Sab

bath, and the Rabbi with the laughing eyes addressed herjestingly.

Rebbetzin, perhaps you can do something about bringingthe summer? He did not avert his eyes, like my father, butlookedstraight at her.

My mother reddened like a schoolgirl and seemed for a

momentat a loss. Then she regained her composure and an

swered, Ifwehave winter, itisprobably because the winter isneeded. Soon the actual hearing began; the case involved thou-

36

t

AMAJOR DIN TORAH

. . pj^es. With all my might I tried to understand whatJLJL. discussed, but I soon lost the thread. It was about

filing, ordering wagonloads of merchandise. TheyIof credit, net value, gross income, account books, ledgers,c notes. The negotiating Rabbis were well versed in theujloRy of business affairs, but my father was constandy

-u/for explanations. As his son, I suffered pangs of shame

mm embarrassment on his behalf. From time to time the discus-TJgjSp of the case would be interrupted by women from theS'Sghborhood who came to ask whether their freshly slaugh-^vMSd chickens were kosher.

i-.l .The Din Torah lasted not one but several days. During this |^v'titnc I learned that not all Rabbis resembled my father. These :• { two took out fountain pens and scribbled on sheets of paper— I'imWfa drclcs- sciuarcs- Evcryfew hours l was scnt out t0 buy?i .Refreshments: apples, cakes, even sausages and cold cuts. Mygjfither never touched meat bought in asausage shop, even onefcthat was stricdy kosher. But the other Rabbis ate the smokedfjneats and discussed them like connoisseurs. At other times theargument would be halted while one of the Rabbis told astory.;,Then the other would notwant tolag behind, and he too wouldrtell ananecdote. Then they gotto talking about foreign coun-

,ftries and different resorts, and I learned that these Rabbis hadwteeo in Germany, in Vienna, and in other distant places. My

&; father, to be sure, presided at the head of the table, but he^teemed to shrivel in the presence of these worldly divines and

j theirsmooth conversation.•M ? Afterawhile I began to understand the issues and realized, toM try amazement, that the arbitrators were not really concerned i.fe about who was right and who wrong , wha t was true and whatWP false, but that each was looking for twists and turns to justify r:M bis party and tocontradict the arguments of his opponent.||f Iresented these clever Rabbis, yet at the same time I enviedW' their children. From the way they spoke, I realized that intheir

r 37



A MAJOR DIN TORAH

homes therewere rugs,sofas, lovely things of all kinds. Occasionally oneof the Rabbis would even mention his wife, andthis was the greatest wonder of all. Never had I heard myfather refer to my mother when he was speaking with othermen

The longer the Din Torah lasted, the more complicated itbecame. The table was covered with a thick layer of papers,

calculations. Theycalled in a bookkeeper, who brought a stackof account books. Th e moods of the tall man with the black

beard were constandy changing. One minute he spoke calmly,

deliberately, as though each word cost a gold piece, thensuddenly hewould begin toshout, banging his f is t onthe tableand threatening to file suit in a governmental court. The graylitde man answered sharply, angrily, maintaining that he wasnot afraid of any court. For his part, the lawsuit could bebrought before the highest tribunal. And the two spokesmen,although they were literally waging war against each other, stillcharted amiably, lit matches for each other's cigarettes, andcontinued to repeat to each otherthesayings ofRabbis, scholars,

andfamous lawyers. My father had almost stopped speaking, orasking for explanations. From time to time he would glance

longingly at his bookcase. Forthe sake of the business quarrelsof these rich men he had had to give up time he would

otherwise havedevoted to the Torah, and he yearned for hisbooksand commentaries. Once againthe world,with itscalcu

lationsand falsehoods, had intruded into our life.

I was constandy senton errands. Oneminute someone scntmefor cigarettes—and the next for cigars. For some reason aPolish newspaper was needed and I was sent for it.But mostfrequendy I was sent for different things to eat. I had notknown thatanyone could eat so much—so many kinds of sweetsand delicacies—and on ordinary weekdays, to boot.The Rabbiwith the laughing eyes wanted a tinof sardines. Apparendy thetwo Rabbis ate so much because it was all paid for by the

38

AMAJOR DIN TORAH

They said so openly, albeit as ajestand with awink o f

rW'J*. rhc hist day all was shouting and tumult. Every few'-SiSLs one or die other of the litigants would try to run out,

JJJtT Rabbi wouid hold him back. Perhaps they were only*2nc? Ihad learned that they often said one thing and meant

Z~£a.When they were angry, they spoke softly. When they-ere satisfied, diey pretended to be enraged. When one of the• uribis wa s away, the other would enumerate all his sins and

weaknesses. Once the Rabbi with the laughing eyes arrived half,„ hour earlier than the others and proceeded to revile hisopponent, the Rabbi with the yellow beard and birdlikc eyes.Hcsaid, That one is no more aRabbi than I am the king of

,Mother was stunned. How is that possible? Iknow that he-•V makes decisions on ritual questions.

M : His decisions, ha. . . .p£ But if that is so, he could-may such things not come toiO; pass-cause other Jews to eat forbidden foods.Ml. V Well, he may know how to look up areference in the Be'crf'-,Heitev. •He was in America already.'-;; What did hedoinAmerica?

'..'• He sewed pants.Father wiped the sweatfrom his brow. A re you serious?

% *<*• . • t ;.v < Nu, he probably needed the money. It is written that it is

I better to flay carcasses than to take alms . . . Work is no,;. disgrace. „^' 'True, but not every shoemaker is aRabbi Yochanan. . . .H My father had told my mother that he wou ld be almostH'. happy if this Din Torah were taken to another Rabbi fo r#'; judgment He had already diverted too much of his time fromW- his studies. He could not devote more energy to all these tangles

I 39



A MAJOR DIN TORAH

and fractions (a term my father used for any arithmeticalprocess more complex than addition, subtraction, and multiplication). He foresaw that in any case the litigants might notabide by his decree. He was also afraid that the suit wouldeventually be brought into the civil courts, and he might becalled as a witness. The very idea ofstanding before amagistrate, taking an oath on aBible, sitting among policemen, castterror upon him. He groaned in his sleep at night In the

morning he would rise even earlier than usual, to be able torecite his prayers in peace and to review at least one page of theGemara . He would pace up and down in his study and prayaloud,ina tremblingvoice:

O my God, the soul Thou gavest me is pure. Thou didstcreate it. Thou didst form it, Thou didst breathe it into me.Thou preservest itwithin me, and Thou wilt take it from me,butwilt restoreit untomehereafter. . . .

He was not simply reciting aprayer, but seemed almost to bepleading his case before the Master of the Universe. I thoughtthat he kissed his phylacteries and the fringes of his prayershawlwith a fervor more intensethan ever.

Yes, the final day was a stormy one. This time, not only thelitigants, but even the negotiators shouted. The erstwhile amitybetween the two spokesmen had evaporated, and they werenow quarreling and abusing one another. They argued andshouted and gave vent to

their pent-upemotions until their

strength was exhausted. At that moment Father took out hiskerchief and ordered the litigants to grasp it, a token of theirsubmission to his decision. I stood by, trembling. I was certainthat my father had understood nothing of all these entangledarguments and that he would pronounce adecree as ill-fitted asablow for aSabbath greeting. But now it became clear that inthe course of these past days my father had, after all, graspedthe significance of the issues at stake. He pronounced his oldand tried formula ofcompromise: an equal division. . . .

For some time after he had given his decision, there was

40

A MAJORDINTORAH

No one had the strength to speak. The man with the' b-ard stared at my father with savage eyes. The kttleJTa grimace as though he had accidentally swallowed

^JTyr SOur. The Rabbi with the yellow eyes smiled cyni-rXaying amouthful of yellow teeth. I noticed that one

was gold-covered, and this convinced me that he hadjtedbeen inAmerica.yVhcn all had had time to recover, they began to tear my

IP-father's decree apart Insulting innuendoes were made- Father

%-SS his argument simply. I asked you whether you wanted/•V ta absolute decision, or were willing to accept acompromise.W~' -:->TEven acompromise must be reasonable$/&:'That is my decision. I have no Cossacks at my command to

^'enforce it.| ; -V The arbitrators withdrew to confer with their clients. They^S'inuttercd, argued, complained. I remember that the loudestafctejO came from the side that had actually benefited the most

Ifrom the decision. After awhile they seemed to have decidedPbat the compromise was not, after all, so bad and that perhapsfenere really was no better way. The litigants, who were businessPptrtners, shook hands. The Rabbis demanded that Igo down toWbt ag refreshments, so that all could recuperate from the fight-feng and quarreling. Again the two were the best of friends, andpone even said that he would recommend the other to handle aIVcase he knew of. At last everyone had left. In the study there

1 remained only cigar smoke, atable full of papers, fruit skins, theI , remains of various delicacies. Father had received a generous ee-twenty rubles, I bclievc-but I could tell that he felt an

unpleasant aftertaste. He asked Mother to clear the table asquickly as possible. He opened the doors so that the odors ofwealth and worldlincss might escape. The litigants were, afteraD , men of business-but the overiy clever Rabbis had caused

him deep pain.As soon as my mother had cleared the table, Father sat down

to resume his studies. He reached for his books eagerly. There,

41



Mil

A MAJOR DIN TORAH

in the holy books, one did not nibble on sardines, one did notmake innuendoes, or flatter, or speak words of double meaning,or tell slippery jokes. There holiness, truth, dedication reigned.

In the Hasidic prayer house where my father prayed, the menhad heard of the sensational DinTorah. Businessmen discussedit with my father. They said that he was becoming known inWarsaw, was gaining a reputation, but my father waved thistalk aside with his hand.

No, it isnot good. . . .At that time, too, my father began to talk to me aboutthe Lamed-Vov—the thirty-six hidden saints—the simple Jews,the tailors, shoemakers, and water carriers upon whom depends the continued existence of the world. Father spoke of thcirpovcrty, their humility, their appearance of ignorance so thatnone would recognize their true greatness. He spoke of theseconcealed saints with a special love, and he said, One contriteheart is of greater worth before the Almighty than thirty silk

gabardines.

42

THE

FAMILY

TREE

' Father's family was more distinguished than Mother's, but heatldom spoke of them. My father's father was Reb Samuel an'.assistant Rabbi in Tomaszow; his father had been Reb IsaiahIKonsker, a Hasid and scholar without ecclesiastical office; Reb

^Isaiah's father had been Reb Moshe, known as the Sage of^Warsaw, and author of The Sacred Letter. Reb Moshc's father' had b een Reb Tobias, the Sztcktcin Rabbi, and his father had

been Reb Moshe, the Neufeld Rabbi. This Reb Moshe had beenadisciple of the celebrated Baal Shem. Reb Moshe's father hadbeen RebZviHirsch, theZhorker Rabbi.

My paternal grandmother Temerl's roots went even further

back

My father's father, Reb SamueL had refused for many yearsto become a Rabbi, and instead had given himself to the study

43

in my fathers court venice

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