S. Agnon - Two Scholars Who Were in our Town and other Novellas

At the end of the holiday my father left for Germany to conclude his business affairs and consult with doctors. And the doctors directed my father to the city of Wiesbaden. Kaila then came to our home to help me with the household chores.

We soon found a young maidservant and Kaila returned to my father’s home. The girl came for only two, three hours a day at the most. I then said, How will I manage all the housework by myself? But soon enough I realized it was far better to have the servant come for a few hours than for the entire day, for she would leave after completing her duties and then there was no one to keep me from talking to my husband as much as I pleased.

Winter came. Wood and potatoes were stored indoors. My husband labored over his book chronicling the history of the Jews in our town and I cooked fine and savory dishes. After the meal we would go out for a walk, or else we would stay at home and read. And Mrs. Gottlieb gave me an apron she had sewn for me. Akaviah caught sight of me in the large apron and called me mistress of the household. And I was happy being mistress of the house.

But times will change. I began to resent cooking. At night I would spread a thin layer of butter on a slice of bread and hand it to my husband. And if the maidservant did not cook lunch then we did not eat. Even preparing a light meal burdened me. One Sunday the servant did not come and I sat in my husband’s room, for that day we had only one stove going. I was motionless as a stone. I knew my husband could not work if I sat with him in the room, as he was accustomed to working without anyone else present. But I did not rise and leave, nor did I stir from my place. I could not rise. I undressed in his room and bid him to arrange my clothes. And I shuddered in fear lest he approach me, for I was deeply ashamed. And Mrs. Gottlieb said, “The first three months will pass and you will be yourself again.” My husband’s misfortune shocked me and gave me no rest. Was he not born to be a bachelor? Why then had I robbed him of his peace? I longed to die, for I was a snare unto Akaviah. Night and day I prayed to God that I should give birth to a girl who would tend to all his needs after my death.

My father returned from Wiesbaden. He retired from his business, though not wanting to remain idle he would spend two or three hours a day with the man who bought his shop. And he comes to visit us at night, not counting those nights when it rains, for on such nights the doctor has forbidden him to venture out of the house. He arrives bearing apples or a bottle of wine or a book from his bookshelf — a gift for my husband. Then, being fond of reading the papers, he relates to us the news of the day. Sometimes he asks my husband about his work and grows confused as he speaks to him. Other times my father talks of the great cities he has seen while traveling on business. Akaviah listens like a village boy. Is this the student who came from Vienna and spoke to my mother and her parents about the wonders of the capital? How happy I am that they have something to talk about. Whenever they speak together I recall the exchange between Job and his friends, for they speak in a similar manner. One speaks and the other answers. Such is their way every night. And I stand vigilant, lest my father and my husband quarrel. The child within me grows from day to day. All day I think of nothing but him. I knit my child a shirt and have bought him a cradle. And the midwife comes every so often to see how I am faring. I am almost a mother.

A night chill envelopes the countryside. We sit in our rooms and our rooms are suffused with warmth and light. Akaviah sets his notebooks aside and comes up to me and embraces me. And he sings a lullaby. Suddenly his face clouds over and he falls silent. I do not ask what causes this, but am glad when my father comes home. My father takes out a pair of slippers and a red cap — presents for the child. “Thank you, grandfather,” I say in a child’s piping voice. At supper even my father agrees to eat from the dishes I prepared today. We speak of the child about to be born. Now I glance at my father’s face and now at my husband’s. I behold the two men and long to cry, to cry in my mother’s bosom. Has my husband’s sullen mood brought this about, or does a spirit dwell in womankind? My father and my husband sit at the table, their faces shining upon me. By dint of their love and compassion, each resembles the other. Evil has seventy faces and love has but one face.

I then thought of the son of Gottlieb’s brother on the day Gottlieb came to his brother’s home and his brother’s wife sat with her son. Gottlieb lifted the boy up in the air and danced, but his brother entered and the boy glanced now at Gottlieb and now at his brother, and he turned his face away from them both and in a fit of tears he flung his arms out to his mother.

So end the chronicles of Tirtza.

In my room at night, as my husband bent over his work and I was afraid of disturbing him, I sat alone and wrote down all I had treasured up in memory. Sometimes I would ask myself, Why have I set my memories down, what new things have I seen and what do I wish to leave behind? Then I would say: It is to find solace in writing, and so I wrote all that is written in this book.

Translated by Gabriel Levin

Revised and Annotated by Jeffrey Saks

In the Prime of Her Life / Heb. Bidmi Yamehah , an adaptation of Isaiah 38:10, describing King Hezekiah’s nearly being stricken down by illness in the prime of his life. The reference is doubly resonant with our story when we consider the Talmud’s suggestion (Berakhot 10a) that the cause of his illness was an initial refusal to marry and father children; i.e., trampling upon a normal structure of family life.

Kaddish / Mourner’s prayer, recited during the year of morning following the death of a close relative.

Melamed / Heb. teacher; a tutor hired to teach Jewish studies.

Bedingungs-Buchstaben and Sprach-Werkzeuge / “conditional phrases and linguistic methods”; i.e. German grammatical terms.

Sash / According to custom to wrap a ritual belt around the waist prior to prayer.

Minhah / Afternoon prayer.

Mizrah / Decorative sign indicating East and the direction toward Jerusalem in which prayers are recited; often embroidered with Biblical verses and the like.

Blessed is he who shall not forsake… / From the Musaf prayer of Rosh HaShanah.

Malbim / Meir Leibush ben Yehiel Michel Wisser (1809-79), better known by the acronym Malbim, was a Russian rabbi, Hebrew grammar, and Bible commentator.

He shall shave his head… / Job 1:20.

Beit Midrash / House of Study.

Succah / Festival booth used during the holiday of Succot; cf. Lev. 23:42–43.

Haskalah / The Jewish Enlightenment, 18th–19th century movement that advocated adopting values of the European Enlightenment, pressing for better integration into general society, and increasing education in secular studies.

Gemara / Talmud; main body of the Oral Law comprising a commentary on the Mishnah.

Kol Nidre / Solemn opening prayer of Yom Kippur.

Shema / “Hear O Israel” (Deut. 6:4), central declaration of faith and a twice-daily Jewish prayer; also recited at bedtime.

Screwy / In Hebrew the dog’s name is Me’uvat , meaning broken, damaged, warped, bent (cf. Eccl. 1:15, “A twisted thing cannot be made straight…”) — the translation cannot contain all the meanings contained in the name, including a mild hint of sexual perversion.

Shabbat Nahamu / “The Sabbath of Consolation”, nickname for the Sabbath following the mournful three week Summer period commemorating the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple.