The Glatstein Chronicles (42 page)

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Authors: Jacob Glatstein

Tags: #Fiction, #Literary, #Jewish

BOOK: The Glatstein Chronicles
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“The part of the guest is very well done,” Saba said, huddling up to me. “Who is the amateur playing him?”

“Some amateur! Just listen to that violin voice—that’s Alexander Moissi!”

(
Enter Yankel Satan.
)

YANKEL
: Good shabes, good shabes, kiss the old
babbes.

GUEST
: What an extraordinary creature!

NAHMAN
: He is my apprentice—a merry Andrew, an agnostic, but a good worker and an honest fellow.

YANKEL
: I just ran into Goddam Devilsfilth. He’s coming here tonight. He sighs for Gnendl, he flies to Gnendl, ay chiri-bach chach-chach, ay chiri-bach chach chach.

GNENDL
: You’ve got a big mouth, Yankel. You should swallow a dose of silence.

YANKEL
: Good idea—why not?

NAHMAN
(
laughing heartily
): Do you hear, Mr. Guest, how they have a share in my wife? It’s bad to have a pretty wife. The whole town covets her.

YANKEL
: Why not? So now it’s forbidden even to look at her? And yet she’s faithful to her Nahman, so faithful it’s a pain in the neck.

GNENDL
: Have you been getting drunk? Tell me the truth!

YANKEL
: Gnendele, I love you more than life. As soon as Nahman has given up the ghost …

GNENDL
: Shame on you! Yankel Satan with his tricks!

GUEST
: Some card! He’s a real boor!

NAHMAN
: Oh he’s a good boy, a real treasure. He just doesn’t believe in anything—no more than a dog. But it’s none of my business, I won’t burn in hell because of him.

GUEST
: Oh certainly not. I’m not afraid of atheists. Why, I even like to have discussions with them.

(
The church bells ring, first thin Catholic bells, then the heavy Orthodox ones.
)

GUEST
: Just listen to them quarreling among themselves. The Catholic church says bim-bim and the Orthodox church says bom-bom. A real debate.

YANKEL
(
with pretended seriousness
): Quite a debate. It’s almost like a theological disputation between two great rabbis.

GUEST
: Still, there’s a distinction between these spheres—they’re worlds apart.

NAHMAN
: Don’t expect Yankel Satan to recognize any distinctions! Kasha and beets are all the same to him.

YANKEL
: Which is the kasha and which are the beets? I’m taking you up on this. Maybe you used your measuring tape to find out which is the kasha and which are the beets? Go ahead, prove it to me.

GNENDL
: If you sang instead of talking, Yankel, no one would find out what a fool you are. You really believe that the world is a clock and that it’s your job to break it.

YANKEL
: It’s out of order as it is. Just listen to this, if you please. My grandmother left brooches to everyone else in the family, but all she gave me was a Jewish face. So I walk around proudly with my Jewish looks, and any no-good Gentile can spit straight in my face. I wipe off the spit, and—what a lucky break!—I still have my pride. I’m a Jew,
ein Jüde,
an
Israélite,
a believer in the Old Testament, a Hebrew. O joy, O rapture.

GUEST
: It’s a great thing to be a Jew. After all, there must be something to it. Just think—the nations of the world really hate one another, but they all get together to hate the Jew. There must be something to it. (
chants a Sabbath prayer, extolling the Lord of the Universe
)

YANKEL
: Can you really explain what that something is, that something we’re supposed to be so proud of—that has given us such a fine reputation with all nations that they hate us?

(
Nahman takes a seat close to Gnendl and strokes her head. She lowers her eyes modestly.
)

GUEST
: Because they all are afraid of us. (
He picks crumbs from the table and throws them into his mouth.
) They’re afraid of our—(
taps his head with his hand
)

YANKEL
(
sarcastic
): Some proof. Something to write home about, what we’ve accomplished with our brains. Well, listen to what I have to say to that: if we had really been smart, it’s like the Lithuanian skeptic puts it, “If my grandfather had any brains, he’d have become a Christian and today I’d be a carefree goy.”

NAHMAN
(
laughs
): You think that would have helped you to get a wife? Why, even a shikse wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.

GUEST
: Still unmarried, this noble specimen? (
points at Yankel
)

GNENDL
: No, no, Yankel will find a wife. A Jewish girl will live with this scoundrel.

YANKEL
: As I am a Jew, Gnendele, you love me, but you’re ashamed to admit it.

Oy it’s me you miss
Oy it’s me you’d like to kiss
Oy it’s me you’re yearning for
Ay, chiri-bach-chiri, ay chiri-chiri
Bach chiri-chiri- (
dances a few steps
).

GNENDL
: Sure, it’s you I miss, I’m being driven crazy missing you.

NAHMAN
: Ah Yankel, you devil, if you’re after my wife, you’re playing with fire. Gnendl will let you have it, and she has a sturdy little hand.

GNENDL
(
laughing
): What am I, a bully, God forbid?

YANKEL
: You see, Nahman, she has a Jewish heart.

GUEST
: A real comedian. Now you leave that Jewish daughter alone—such a jewel!

(
Door opens, enter Goddam Devilsfilth. He is tall and thin, with sinister green eyes, set in a hawklike face. He moves jerkily; his gestures are mockingly courteous.
)

GODDAM
: Good evening. Begging your pardon, good shabes.

YANKEL
: Kiss the old babbes, and when you’re kissing, don’t pull your punches, make the most of it.

GODDAM
: Ah, Yankel (
He pronounces the name with the accent on the last syllable, like a Gentile.
), you and your cracks.

NAHMAN
: We got rid of the dogs.

GODDAM
: Got rid of my dogs! They keep me enslaved, I’ve barely managed to escape. It’s always iti-miti, in and out!

YANKEL
: Listen to that line! Iti-miti, in and out!

GUEST
: What’s that about? Maybe you’re a dog catcher?

GODDAM
: No, my dear gentleman, God forbid.

(
Nahman and Gnendl laugh.
)

YANKEL
: No, he is a beaten dog himself. That is, he has about thirty dogs, and he is happy and so are we.

GUEST
: Is that so? And he is a Jew?

YANKEL
: Of course. Isn’t it obvious? A rabbinic authority! You’ll hear his version of the Midnight Lamentations—you can hear the barking and howling when he runs back and forth with the dogs, inside his house and all over the village.

GODDAM
: Ay, what a joker. And how is Gnendele, my little chickadee, my little Gnendl-chick? Ha? (
with a strange flash in his eyes and impudent gestures
)

GNENDL
(
a bit uneasy
): I’m fine, thank God.

GODDAM
(
falls at her feet
): I’m at your feet, Gnendele, my dear, have pity on me! Just one friendly look, one smile, something, alms for a beggar. (
gets up
) Iti-miti, in and out.

YANKEL
: Where did you get that phrase of yours? Some witticism, that. He winds up everything with “iti-miti, in and out.”

(
Guest, somewhat embarrassed, groans, wriggles on his chair, takes up his prayer chant again.
)

NAHMAN
: Don’t be scared of this joker. He’s a strange sort of Jew, but he does a lot for the Jews. He’s on good terms with the priest and the landowners; they treat him as one of their pack.

GUEST
: Scared? Who’s scared? I’ve seen worse—I once fell into the hands of thieves, may no one have to undergo that.

(
Knocks are heard at the door, gradually growing stronger. The door opens. Enter two Gentile youths. They are drunk.
)

FIRST YOUTH
: Don’t be afraid, gentlemen, we’ve just dropped in for a moment. (
general surprise, expressions of fear
) I’ve come to show him (
gives the other youth a push in the back
) a Jewish princess. Here she is, the Jewish princess. (
points silently to Gnendl and moves closer to her
)

YANKEL
: What are we waiting for? Give him a punch in the jaw that’ll knock him out or sober him up!

(
Second youth smiles stupidly.
)

FIRST YOUTH
: She always sits by the window there and caresses every passerby with her eyes. No, she does more than caress them, she kisses, kisses them. Jewish princess, Don’t be scared. Give me a kiss, and I’ll shoot myself for joy. By the Holy Mother of God, I’ll shoot myself in the head.

(
Gnendl draws back in fear. Nahman moves between her and the youths. Goddam moves closer to the first youth.
)

GODDAM
: You snotnose, I’ll tell your father on you. (
Pushes him out of the house, the other youth runs after him, bangs the door shut. Noises of a scuffle and quarrel outside, then silence.
)

GODDAM
: That’s the innkeeper’s son, a rascal, a clown.

YANKEL
: You should have punched him in the nose.

GUEST
: Better not, with people like that it’s better to use the gentle approach.

GODDAM
: Sure, sure, the gentle way is the best. You just saw, didn’t you, iti-miti, in and out.

(
Gnendl is still upset and frightened. Nahman bends over her affectionately.
)

NAHMAN
: What’s the matter, Gnendl, are you scared?

YANKEL
: It’s time for her to go to bed. That was a dirty trick to play on her. I still think you should have punched him in the nose.

GODDAM
: Well, good night!

YANKEL
: Good—Gnendl, go to bed, you’ll feel better in the morning. (
exit with Goddam
)

(
Guest, still seated, drums with his fingers on the table. The candles are about to go out. He chants softly.
)

NAHMAN
(
leads Gnendl to the bedroom, then comes back, addresses the guest
): I hope you don’t mind—you can sleep here on the sofa. (
stands helplessly
)

GUEST
: I have no choice, have I? And as for you, go join your wife. (
smiles
) Don’t worry, I’ll manage to make my own bed. Go on in, to your treasure. (
hums the same melody as before
)

(
Nahman still stands helpless in the doorway to his wife’s bedroom.
)

GUEST
: You see I’m alone, all alone, I never sleep in the same place, I’m a poor neglected widower. Well, of course (
yawns
), I’ll make my bed on the sofa.

(
Exit Nahman. Guest remains seated in dimmed room, singing softly.
)

CURTAIN

Father and mother were gone now. Throughout the performance the audience had kept changing. All sat with their mouths open wide, staring at the lighted corner—at Nahman’s bedroom. Gnendl was lying in bed, one foot sticking out from under the featherbed. Suddenly I no longer could feel Saba’s hot little hands in mine. Astonishingly, she had left her seat and was now playing the part of Gnendl. I wanted to tell her that she was not suitable for the part, that she would spoil it with her temperament, but now something happened that really made me hold my breath. I got up from my seat and began to walk through the audience heading straight for the stage. I limped a bit, trying to distract attention from the fact that I had only one shoe, and then I felt like Nahman. A moment later I was playing the part of Nahman, standing beside Saba-Gnendl’s bed. A small lamp burned with a low flame throwing light on her tired features. Spectators were watching the scene with binoculars. Their heartbeats made an audible pounding, like a concrete mixer.

“Joseph,” she said, stretching both hands toward me.

I bent over her and whispered that in the drama my name is Nahman, but she seemed not to hear and kept calling me “Joseph, Joseph,” her arms still stretched out to me.

I played my part with passion. It was just as well my parents had left. Only the presence of the guest worried me a bit. I was sure he was spying on us through the keyhole. But since my parents were not watching, I began to play without restraint.

NAHMAN
: I love you so much, Gnendl, my dearest, I can think of nothing but you. We’ll run away from here together. I’ll have my beard cut, and I’ll look like a goy. I swear to you, Gnendl, I’ll be a goy with a clean-shaven face, and I’ll play you like a fiddle at the country fairs—let it rip!!—and when my beard is gone, all the Sabbath candles will go out and the night candle too, and there will be darkness without shame.

GNENDL
: Joseph, Joseph, be kind to me, be unkind to me, be cruel, beat me, beat me hard, Joseph, Joseph.

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