A. Yehoshua - The Liberated Bride

Could not tell us apart.

My soul is his, his is mine.

Who has heard of the body

In which two souls combine?

The poet’s esteem for the woman mounted. With an approving glance at her, he recited from memory:

Muzijat ruhuka fi ruhi kama,

Tumzaju al-hamratu b’al-ma’ al-zulal.

Fa’izza masaka shai’un masani,

Fa’izza anta ana fi kuk hal.

Back with a smile came the Hebrew:

Your soul stirred into mine:

Into clear water — wine.

Who touches you, touches me.

I am you in one we.

The poet bowed his head. The Hebrew he had learned in Israel as a boy, before he chose exile, was enough to tell him how perfect the translation was. Yet unable to resist putting the now eager translatoress to one last test, he declaimed:

Jubilat ruhaka fi ruhi kama

Yujbalu al-inbaru b’il-miski ’l-fatik.

Fa’izza masaka shai’un masani

Fa’izza anta anna la naftarik.

Hannah Tedeschi replied at once:

Thy soul merges with mine

As with fragrant musk, amber.

Touch mine and it’s thine.

Thou art me forever.

Rivlin, one of the few in the auditorium to appreciate what the translatoress had accomplished, lifted his curly head to regard with satisfaction the Arabs around him — among whom he was astonished to see, in the dark corner occupied by the musicians, a pale-faced, black-hatted yeshiva student, with earlocks and a beard, whose burning eyes were none other than Samaher’s.

13.

ONLY NOW WAS it apparent what an effort had been made by the festival’s organizers to reach out to their Jewish guests. They wanted the Israelis, whether peaceniks or poetry lovers, to feel at home in their hilly city — which, freed of the cruel yoke of occupation, extended to them a strictly cultural welcome on this chilly but brightly lit winter night.

And so when Samaher had suggested producing for the half-liberated Palestinians a scene from The Dybbuk, “the Jewish Hamlet, ” as she called it (although she might just as well have said “the Jewish Faust ” or “the Jewish Tartuffe ”), the idea met with the approval of Nazim Ibn-Zaidoun, the baby-faced director with eyes of steel. These now glittered as he directed the ushers to remove the table from the stage, hang a white lace curtain in its place, and dim the lights completely.

First upon the dark stage, lit only by a few beams of wet moonlight shining through the window opened by Fu’ad, were two timid, dark-haired boys carrying candles that made their shadows flicker on the curtain. Rivlin could have sworn they were Ra’uda’s sons. Soon they were joined by a serious-looking young man. This was the brilliant Rabbi Azriel, who stood between the candles staring silently at the audience with Samaher’s bright eyes. Rivlin held his breath as the rabbi summoned the possessed bride:

“Leah, the daughter of Sender, you may enter the room.”

But the bride refused to enter. The voice of the dybbuk possessing her, Rashid’s, called from the wings:

“I won’t! I don’t want to!”

And a woman echoed the words in Arabic:

“ La urid ad’hul, la urid !”

Rabbi Azriel, played by Rivlin’s M.A. student with surprising aplomb, was unfazed. Turning to the wings, he said with quiet firmness:

“Maiden! I command you to enter this room!”

The figure of the bride grew slowly visible in the darkness. It was Ra’uda, still wearing the judge’s old clothes, over which a long bridal veil hung past her shoulders. She stood behind the white curtain, waiting for the haunt to speak from her throat. Rashid appeared, white-bearded and wrapped in shrouds, for he was a ghost. He walked with a cane, its handle the doll-like head of a woman, illustrating his obsession for the Palestinian audience. Rivlin was startled to see that this doll had the features of his cousin Samaher.

“Sit, maiden!” Samaher commanded sternly.

The doll did not want to. The dybbuk said:

“Leave me alone. I won’t.”

And Ra’uda, behind the white curtain, echoed in Arabic:

“ Utrekuni. La urid. ”

Samaher: Dybbuk! I command you to tell me who you are.

Rashid: Rabbi of Miropol, you know who I am. But no one else may know my name.

(Repeated by Ra’uda in Arabic.)

Samaher: I command you again. Tell me who you are.

The little doll squirmed in Rashid’s hand.

Rashid: I am a seeker of new paths.

“ Alathina yufatshuna an subul jedida, ” said the echo.

Samaher was displeased by this answer. She stroked her little beard and rebuked the dybbuk severely:

“Only those who stray seek new paths. The just walk the path of righteousness.”

Rashid: It is too narrow.

Samaher: Why have you possessed the body of this maiden?

Rashid: I am her mate.

Ra’uda: Ana zowjuha.

Samaher: Our Torah forbids the dead to haunt the living.

Rashid: I am not dead.

Ra’uda: Ana lastu maitan.

Samaher would have none of it. “You have departed to another world — and there you must remain till the great ram’s horn is sounded. I command you to leave the body of this maiden and return to your resting place!”

Rashid: [Softly] O Tzaddik of Miropol! I know how great you and your power are. I know that angels and seraphs do your bidding. But I will not. [Bitterly] I have nowhere to go, nowhere to rest in this world, apart from where I am now. Everywhere the jaws of Hell await me, and legions of devils and demons would devour me. I will not leave this woman! I cannot!

And Ra’uda repeated, trembling bitterly in her bridal veil:

“ La astati’u ’l-huruj. ”

Samaher turned to face the audience, sprightly in her black jacket and pants with her glued-on beard and earlocks. “O holy congregation!” she addressed it. “Do you grant me the authority to drive out the dybbuk in your name?”

“Drive out the dybbuk in our name!” the two candle-holding brothers cried, the bigger one in Hebrew and the little one in Arabic:

“ Utrud al-jinni! ”

Solemnly, Samaher stepped up to the doll held by Rashid and admonished it:

“In the name of this congregation and all the saints, I, Azriel the son of Hadassah, command you, O dybbuk, to leave at once the body of the maiden Leah, the daughter of Hannah, and to injure neither her nor anyone in departing. If you do not obey me, I will war against you with bans and excommunications. But if you do, I will find you a penance and drive away the devils surrounding you.”

Rashid: I do not fear your curses, nor do I believe your promises. No power on earth can give me peace. I have no place in this world. The paths are all blocked, the gates are all locked. There is heaven and there is earth and there are worlds upon worlds, but nowhere have I found as pure and holy a refuge as I have found in the body of this maiden. Here I am at peace like an infant in its mother’s lap and fear nothing. No! Do not make me leave! No oath will compel me!

Ra’uda’s echo: La, la tutruduni! La tahlefuni!

Samaher: Leave the body of the maiden Leah the daughter of Hannah at once!

Rashid: [Defiantly] I will not!

Ra’uda: La atruk!

Samaher: [Taking a small whip from her belt and lashing the doll while the audience gasps] In the name of the Lord of the universe, I adjure you for the last time. Depart from the maiden Leah, the daughter of Hannah! If you do not listen to me now, I will excommunicate you and deliver you to the angels of destruction.

(A terrifying pause)

Rashid: In the name of the Lord of the universe, I am joined and conjoined with my mate and will not leave her.