S. Agnon - Shira

But Manfred didn’t get back to the subject, not because of all the asides, but because they were home.

Sarah already knew that she had acquired a brother, but she wasn’t impressed — not by the little brother who was going to be a present from her mother and not by all the pet names bestowed on the newborn baby. None of what Ursula told her in broken Hebrew, none of what Firadeus told her had entered her ears. And if it entered her ears, it didn’t enter her heart. If it entered her heart, she showed no joy or excitement. Actually, the news did make an impression, but not the one the Herbst family had in mind. Attached as she was to her mother, she never asked where she was or even mentioned her. When they brought a message from her mother and told her that she had sent kisses, she didn’t offer her cheek, as she usually did when anyone asked to kiss her. On the other hand, she began to be affectionate to her father, clasping his knees, giving him presents — an eggshell, a bird’s feather, and the like. His heart was stirred to love her anew.

Again, I’ll do something similar to what I have done before. I’ll find words for Father Manfred’s thoughts about Sarah and her brother. They were roughly this: Until now, Sarah was the child of our old age, enjoying years of privilege. Now that she has a brother, Sarah is losing out. Her privileges will be passed on to her brother and multiplied because he is male. I don’t know if Henrietta will be able to restrain herself and keep from depriving the little girl out of fondness for the boy. In any case, as for me, I will do whatever I can to keep Sarah from feeling deprived by her brother. I have heard that, in such cases, people buy entertaining toys and say, “Your little brother sent you these things,” as a way to erase the rivalry. I don’t think that material objects buy love. When love is strong, there is no need for devices, such as presents. Herbst was suddenly in a panic. Though his mind had been totally occupied with his son and daughter, it began to grapple with an issue he should not have been considering now.

Again, I will do what I did before. I will find words for the thoughts he was grappling with, but I won’t dwell on them, for I find that the birth of a son is more important than anything, certainly another woman. This is roughly what was running through his mind about her, about that other woman, about Shira. All that time, when we loved each other, it never occurred to me to woo her with gifts. All the gifts in the world don’t draw hearts any closer. They don’t have the power to change anything. As for The Night Watch , I bought it to give her pleasure. The skull that hangs on her wall is there because she couldn’t find a good Rembrandt reproduction. In any case, she never received The Night Watch , because her door was locked. Once again, the visions and scenes I already mentioned were repeated, in which she drowned or was murdered. But this is no time to elaborate, for he must concern himself with the son his wife has borne for him.

I am now confronted with two separate matters, and I don’t know which to deal with first: his visit to Henrietta or his conversations with Tamara, also his friends and acquaintances, and how they responded to news of his son’s birth. I would like to add to this some reflections on education. It would have been better if these matters had come up separately, so I could take the time to give each one its due. But it is in the nature of events to occur in a disorderly fashion, and it would require considerable effort to isolate them and establish the importance of each one. I don’t presume that I could do this, but I count on them to find their rightful positions themselves; even if one of them is displaced in the process, it can surface elsewhere, nonchalant and essentially intact. First, I will recount his actions in general; then I will break them down, recounting each and every detail.

While Henrietta was in the hospital, Herbst never left home except to visit her, regarding himself as the center of a household that couldn’t be left without someone in charge. During this period, he put aside his central work and took on tasks he either hadn’t considered before or had considered and rejected. Having put aside his central work because of his son’s birth, his conscience no longer plagued him with guilt about wasted time, and he worked out of love and joy. Among other things, he was busy with his books, checking for duplications, discards, alternate possibilities; setting some aside to be read soon. Because he did all this voluntarily, and because he had put aside his work consciously, he was not plagued by guilt over wasted time, and he was utterly happy.

Now I will begin with his daily routine. He used to wake up an hour before the girls got out of bed, move to the kitchen, light the kerosene stove, put on the kettle, make himself coffee, turn off the fire, and go out to the garden to rake the soil and dig hollows around the seedlings, tending the plants until he heard Tamara calling him to the table. Breakfast, which was seemingly no different than ever, amused him now, because Tamara assumed her mother’s tone, urging him to eat an egg. And her responses to Sarah — when she rejected her cereal and left milk in her glass, only to be grabbed by Tamara and prevented from clasping Manfred’s knees with hands, still dirty from breakfast — were so like Henrietta’s. Ursula’s conversations with Sarah were most entertaining, one of them speaking Hebrew that isn’t quite Hebrew and the other answering in German that isn’t quite German — spicing it with Arabic, on the theory that since it, too, is a gentile language, Arabic must be like German.

After breakfast, sometimes during breakfast, Ursula rushes off to work. Tamara turns to her work, correcting the notebooks of her Mekor Hayim students, which serve as camouflage for writing proclamations and sending them out. Because of the proclamations, she didn’t go to Mekor Hayim. She said, “I’m taking time off to look after my little sister.” I don’t know what is involved in looking after her. As for dressing, Sarah dresses herself; as for bathing, Firadeus bathes her; as for looking after her, in the sense of protection, the good Lord protects her, and no other protection is needed. This little Jewish girl spends most of her time outside, surrounded by enemies, yet no harm comes to her. All this time, Herbst is busy in his room, taking books out, putting books in, cutting snips of paper to use as markers in the books he means to read. This would seem to be a simple task; actually, it is quite difficult. Having decided on a book he would like to read and placed a snip of paper in it as a sign, when he comes back to it, he no longer recalls why he had decided it was worth reading. He is about to put the book back on the shelf when he finds himself deliberating: So why do you need it at all? Just to gather dust or to add to your book count. While he is engaged with his books, a voice is heard. Firadeus appears, stands in the doorway, and says softly, “The table is set, and lunch is ready.” If Tamara fails to notice, Sarah jumps up, runs to clasp her father’s knees, and presents her cheek for him to kiss. Again, I should mention that, in this situation, offering a cheek to be kissed is equivalent to granting a kiss. And what about this? Herbst, who is fussy about cleanliness, doesn’t look to see if Sarah’s hands are clean. Even if her mouth is sticky from the colorful candies Firadeus brings her, it doesn’t prevent him from kissing her on the mouth. She asks, “Is it sweet?” and he answers, “Very sweet.” She runs to Firadeus and reports that her mouth is sweet. Then she comes back to her father, not for a hug and a kiss, for her love has been elevated. It is now spiritual love, and she is content to have her father near her. Father asks, “What would you like me to tell your mother? What should I say to your little brother?” She instantly becomes silent and doesn’t answer.