S. Agnon - A Book that Was Lost

They removed the menorah and brought it to the Great Synagogue, where they stood it on the reading table where the menorah had once stood. And so the menorah stood on the reading table as it had in earlier days, in the days when there was peace in the land. The metalworker said, “Now I will cut off that bird with two heads, for Austria has ceased to rule over Buczacz. And if there are young boys in town, I will make dreidels from the brass eagle for them to play with during Hanukkah, just as our grandfathers did for our fathers.” He added, “Let us also not make a one-headed eagle, like the eagle that is the national insignia of Poland. I have heard that the Ruthenians have revolted against Poland. If they see the eagle of Poland in our synagogue, they will say that we have prepared to go to war against the Ruthenian nation.”

The two men said to each other, “One kingdom comes and another kingdom passes away. But Israel remains forever.” And they said, “O Lord! Have pity on Your people. Let not Your possession become a mockery, to be taunted by nations! How long shall they direct us however they wish? You, our God, are our rock and refuge forever. You alone we have desired; let us never be ashamed.”

Prologue

Seeing that most people do not know the story of Fishl Karp, or they may know part of it but not all of it, or they may know the story in a general way — and indeed there is no greater enemy to wisdom than superficial knowledge — I have taken it upon myself to recount things exactly as they happened.

I know that I myself have not managed to verify all the details or to reconcile everything, and, needless to say, others would have told it better than I. But I say that full detail is not the main thing, nor is beauty nor the reconciling of inessential matters. The main thing is truth. In that wise every word spoken here is true.

1

A Solid Citizen

Fishl Karp was a householder. Householders like him are not found in every generation nor in every place. Tall was he, and as his height, so was his breadth. That is, his height equaled his circumference. Of similar amplitude were his limbs. His neck was fat and, as they say among us in Buczacz, it measured up to the forearm of Eglon, the king of Moab. This, apart from his belly, which was a creature by itself. Such a belly is not to be found in our generation, but even in Fishl’s generation it was numbered among the city’s novelties.

Two merchants once came from Lemberg to Buczacz to buy groats, and Fishl Karp happened upon them. They looked at him and said, “Even among the gizzard eaters and mead drinkers in Lemberg, a belly like that would command respect.” It was ample, like a cauldron for cooking prune jam. Not for nothing was it said that his double chins compared to his belly like a bird’s gullet to its body, and his double chins were fat like a goose before Hanukkah. Hence he honored his belly and cared for it and saw that it lacked for nothing. Be it meat and fish, let there be meat and fish; be it gravy and groats, let there be gravy and groats; and if you want a prune compote, let there be a prune compote, aside from carrot wrapped in tripe stuffed with flour and toasted with fat and raisins, not to mention the dishes that come before the meal.

Ordinarily people eat sauce before meat and meat before prunes and carrots. Fishl Karp would eat the meat before the sauce and the carrots and prunes before the sauce, so that if the Messiah should come he could give him what he was eating and not deprive his belly. Otherwise, while all the Jews were taking joy in the Messiah, his belly would be miserable and sad. If things were thus during the six days of the week, on Sabbaths and festivals it was even more so. What Reb Fishl ate at the optional fourth meal of Rabbi Hidka would be enough for ten Jews for an entire Sabbath, and what he used to eat on the eve of Yom Kippur would be enough for anyone for all the three festivals. Even those holidays that are not mentioned in the Torah but which were ordained by Ezra and his court he honored with food and drink, as well as all the other special days when it is one’s religious duty to eat a copious meal.

To make them noteworthy, he would prolong his meals until midnight, and in the same manner he would prolong the banquet to bid farewell to the Sabbath Queen. For a person has a bone called luz which enjoys no food except at the banquet for the departure of the Sabbath, and from that bone the Holy One, blessed be He, will make the entire body sprout in the world-to-come. Fishl intended to provide it with much pleasure so it would remember him in the afterlife when there will be Leviathan and Wild Ox.

The child is father to the man. Even as a lad it was evident that he would be a man of substance. It once happened that a man held a yahrzeit. After prayers he gave out cakes and brandy, for in those days some people had already taken up the hasidic custom of bringing cakes and brandy to the house of prayer on the occasion of a yahrzeit to drink to the living and to bless the dead for the ascent of his soul. Fishl saw an old man slice a piece and abandon the rest. He was astonished. The old man said to him, “What are you looking at me for?” He said to him, “I’m observing the little slice that’s wobbling between your gums and not getting any smaller.” He said to him, “And you would swallow a slice like that in the wink of an eye?” He said to him, “Even if they gave me all the cakes, I wouldn’t leave a single crumb.” The old man’s son heard this. He grabbed Fishl by the ear and said to him, “Here, the cakes are yours if you eat them in front of us, but if you leave even one of them, you must stretch yourself out upon the table and receive forty lashes plus one.” He listened and agreed.

Twenty-four cakes there were, each as thick as the nose of the official who collects excise taxes on taverns. They were in three layers and kneaded with eggs, and Fishl ate them all. Finally, for fear of even numbers, he ate yet another. The next day he bet a man who held a yahrzeit that he could drink a jug of brandy without a morsel of food. He downed it all and quaffed another cupful for good measure, and no change was noticeable in his face.

On Sabbaths and festivals Fishl used to pray with the first minyan, but on ordinary days he would pray with the second or third, and sometimes he prayed by himself. For on Sabbaths and festivals a man’s table is set and a feast is ready for him when he returns home. His plate and cup greet him, one with food and one with drink. But on ordinary days many things delay a man before he stands up to pray. For the market swarms with a multitude of fowl, and the butcher shop is full of meat. Sometimes on his way to synagogue a gentile man or woman would meet him bearing good things to eat. Such was Fishl Karp’s custom: he would take his stick in his right hand and his tallit and tefillin in his left, and he would cross the market and peer into the butcher shop, sending his eyes in front of him. He might see a fat hen, a fine piece of meat, a fruit worthy of a blessing, or a vegetable that would be good to add to his meal, and he would purchase them, before anyone else preempted him. If his tallit and tefillin bag was large enough, he would secrete them there and bring them home after his prayer, and if there were too many things for his tallit and tefillin bag to hold, he would send them off with someone else, such as a little orphan boy who had come to say kiddush or anyone else who was at hand to run his errand.

2

A Fish He Found

One day Fishl arose early, as was his wont on the six days of the week. He boiled a kettle and drank hot tea with honey. He filled his pipe with tobacco and saw to his bodily needs. Afterward he peeked into the cupboard where all sorts of victuals lay ready, and in his thoughts he tasted their flavors and in his mind he exchanged one food for another and one drink for another, since not all times and not all tastes are equal. You hunger for one thing and something else comes and appeals to your palate. The manna that fell from heaven for the Israelites had all the tastes in the world. If they wished, it tasted like bread or like honey or like oil. Our foods, alas, have merely the memory of taste.