S. Agnon - Shira

With a wave of her hand, Shira dismissed the subject. She had already replaced her disdainful expression with the relaxed look of a hard-working woman who has cast off workaday burdens for a while and is enjoying a leisurely stroll, relishing each step and every sight. Herbst trailed along beside her, deep in thought, reexamining ideas he had always accepted without question. Shira, who had brought this on, was also subjected to his scrutiny. Those who know their friends well and are attuned to their thinking are fortunate; their conversation is always pleasant and reassuring. But friends who suddenly express opinions we never expected to hear from them are bewildering to us as well as to themselves, as if they have been transformed, reborn in a new guise. I already mentioned that, in those dark days when Herbst stayed away from Shira, when he was in such an agitated state, he used to think uncharacteristic thoughts — thoughts to which he was unaccustomed — including thoughts about the women with whom he had studied at various universities. I mentioned that some of them had become prominent and that he was alarmed when he ran into them at scholarly meetings, talked to them again, and realized they were different from him, that they were actually female. He was upset by their existence and by the fact that they had reverted to their essential nature. The opposite was true of Shira. Shira, who had always been woman to him and nothing more, had all of a sudden assumed a spiritual aspect; she possessed thoughts and opinions. What sort of opinions? Opinions that were totally new to him. But he was uneasy, not because they were expressed in vulgar terms, not because, as I observed, those who know their friends well and are attuned to their thinking are fortunate, et cetera, but because he was in public with a strange woman and anyone who saw them together would think the worst. In any case, it was good that Tamara was traveling in Greece. If she were here, he might run into her when he was with Shira. As he walked on, pondering, he turned to Shira and said, “I have something to tell you, Shira.” Shira said, “Only one thing?” Herbst said, “For the moment, only one thing.” “And later?” Herbst suddenly had a change of heart and, feeling some sort of pang, answered, “It depends on you and your affection.” Shira said, “What is it that my lord requests?” Herbst said, “Remember the café that belonged to that fellow who sent his waitress a wedding cake? Let’s stop in and refresh ourselves with some coffee.” Shira said, “You’re such an optimist. In Jerusalem, if a man does something well, he will certainly not survive. That café is no longer his. It has changed hands several times. After losing everything, he asked his relatives in America for a certificate, which they sent. He left, and, for all we know, he is doing there what he didn’t succeed in doing here. Also, it’s Shabbat, and all the cafés are closed.” Herbst said, “What now?” Shira said, “So what now? What should we do? You’ll go to your house, and I’ll go to mine.” Seeing the gloom on Herbst’s face, Shira shifted her tone and said, “Believe me, Manfred, I would invite you to my room, but I’m tired. I was up all night, and, when I got home in the afternoon and flopped on my bed, someone rang my bell and woke me up, and after that you came. Besides, I’m not well. I’m not sick, but I’m not well either. Please don’t ask questions.” Herbst said, “Then do we have to part?” Shira said, “If you insist, I could walk with you for a while.” Herbst said, “If you’re not feeling well, how can you walk?” Shira said, “Leave that to me.” Herbst said, “I see that I’m irritating you.” Shira said, “Perhaps.” Herbst asked, “To such an extent?” Shira said, “If you really want to know, think about your words before you say them.” Herbst lowered his head and was silent.

Shira noticed and said, “I don’t mean to upset you, but you twist things just to irritate me and force me to defend myself.” Herbst said, “From here on, whenever I want to say something, I’ll ask permission first.” Shira laughed and said, “It’s not necessary to go that far.” Herbst asked sadly, “Then what do I have to do to please you?” Shira said, “What do you have to do? Don’t do anything. We’ve been walking so long that Shabbat is just about over. Unless you’ve changed your mind, let’s stop for coffee.” Herbst said, “I was hoping to take you to that café I mentioned.” Shira said, “We could go to that café.” Herbst said, “What’s the point of a café that’s been abandoned by its owner?” Shira said, “Then we’ll sit there without any point.” Herbst looked at his watch and said, “It looks to me as if we’ll have to wait God knows how long before they open the cafés. Won’t your legs begin to hurt?” Shira said, “If my legs hurt, I’ll rest later.” Herbst said, “You’re right, Shira. You’re right. But it would be good to sit somewhere in the meanwhile. Aren’t we close to your place? Wouldn’t it be a good idea to wait there?” Shira said, “That’s possible. If that’s what you would like to do, here’s the key. You can wait there.” “And you?” “Me? I’ll wait for you here or in front of the café.” Herbst said, “What will you do if I spend the night there, if I stay until tomorrow?” Shira said, “If that’s what you want, you can do just that. I doubt that you’ll be bored. There are plenty of books, not to mention that magazine. You know the one, Manfred?” Herbst said, “Look, the sun is setting. Let’s see which café opens first.” Shira said, “Whoever wants to be first will discover that half a dozen others are already open. Who are those two young people waving at you?” Herbst looked around and said, “I didn’t see anyone waving. In any case, if there was any waving, it wasn’t directed at me.” Shira said, “If you didn’t see it, how can you say it wasn’t directed at you? I suppose we could head for that café now. By the time we get there, it will be open.” As she spoke, she stopped walking. Herbst noticed and asked, “Did you want to tell me something?” Shira didn’t answer but stood watching the sun set. After a while she said, “When I see the sun setting, I’m afraid I might never see it again. Not that I’m afraid I’ll be dead tomorrow, but I’m frightened by the ugly houses being built, shutting out the view. I don’t know whose fault it is — whether it’s the architects whose sensibilities are bizarre or their clients who want ugly houses.” A little later, she added, “Manfred, you were the one who said that every person here defaces the view. I would like to add that the houses are like the people, and all the houses built in recent years are a blight. Not only are they a blight, but they conceal God’s works.” Herbst said, “Bravo, Shira. Bravo. Finally, you believe in God.” Shira said, “Can I invent a special language for myself? I was using the accepted terms.” Herbst said, “No need to apologize. On the contrary, your slip of the tongue is evidence that the devil in you is not so formidable.” Shira said, “Good, good. Now let me look.”

The sun was still setting, and it looked as if this might go on forever. Even before the eye had a chance to take in the scene, as it was now, it altered totally, and once again it seemed as if it always had been and always would be as it was now. A minute later, it altered again and became rounded, like a magic ball colored by the artist in various hues of gold, untouched by any hand, rolling and tossing itself and altering everything wherever it landed. Not only was the sky altered, but the hilltops between earth and sky — even the earth itself — took on a new look. The hilltops and the earth; each did its best. After a while, the sun made a golden puddle, into which it was then tossed. It continued to glitter, to cast its red and yellow glow through the film of sky that covered it. A little later, it disappeared, leaving no trace. The hilltops and the earth responded similarly. If not for the light of stores, theaters, and cafés, which were now open, they would have been unable to make out the earth under their feet.