György Spiró - Captivity

The riddling and sifting women — for by then they had done the sifting, which was the final phase of the winnowing process, begun after the grain had been brought back from the mill, and they were riddling the newly threshed grain as it came in — nonetheless enjoyed the tale more the second time around, and when Uri reached the end again, they begged him to read it a third time. By then the supervisor himself was in the habit of hanging around; at first he had merely turned up more often on the pretext of checking the work, but in the end he would perch among them and, enthralled, listen to the adventures of Enoch. Uri had a shrewd suspicion that the plowmen were quite pleased that things had turned out that way, and would repay him for his service when the occasion arose, because during those days, thanks to him, they were spared the rigors of the supervisor’s stick.

Another thing also happened.

One day a frail young girl was riddling with her sieve next to Uri. Uri noticed she was radiant in some manner but did not pay it any attention; that evening, however, the girl took off her headscarf, and Uri suddenly felt a deep-seated, tingling pang in his chest. Never before had he seen such loveliness. She had an oval little face, close-knit black eyebrows, long, jet-black hair, dark-brown eyes, a snub nose, nicely arched lips, slim arms, slender wrists, and long, thin fingers. Uri propped his head on his elbows and just gazed, spellbound. The girl sensed it, took one triumphant glance at him from under those black brows, and burst out laughing.

Uri averted his gaze in shame. The spectacle had consumed his entire inner being. He began to fume, because in casting his mind back he distinctly recalled that he had been entranced by the young girl the whole day long. Why was it only now that she was acting as if she had just noticed him?

That night Uri tossed restlessly, unable to sleep, his body no longer drained by work. He would have preferred to sleep but couldn’t; in a half-sleeping state he relived the Book of Enoch.

It’s not such a bad idea at all, he mused, if every time women were expecting offspring they could see the rotten end that awaited their children and mourn them in advance with their sighs, and their pleas for mercy would be in vain.

It was all very well that Enoch took pity upon the guardian angels mixing with the children of men, and he went off, sat down at the waters of Dan and wrote out their petition. That’s practically Homeric, Uri thought, to read this petition in the presence of the Lord of Heaven till he fell asleep — not the Lord but Enoch himself, the author of the petition! Someone finds himself in the presence of the Lord, reads his petition to the Lord and meanwhile falls asleep!

In his dream, visions fell down upon Enoch, apocalyptic visions. That’s pretty good as well, Uri thought, and he could see before his eyes the letters, which he had already gone through twice, but even more so the scene that lay behind them, colorful and sharp, and which the writer also saw, it would seem, being able, like Uri, to think pictorially.

In Enoch’s vision, clouds invited him and a mist summoned him, lightning hastened him, and the winds lifted him upward; that is how he was borne into Heaven. He reached a wall built of crystals and surrounded by tongues of fire. Enoch went into the tongues of fire and reached a large house with walls or crystal, tessellated floor of crystal, and groundwork all of crystal. Its ceiling was like the paths of the stars, illuminated by lightning flashes, and between them were fiery cherubim, and a flaming fire surrounded the walls, and its portals blazed with fire. And Enoch entered that house, and it was hot as fire and cold as ice. (The author of the scroll must also have been in lands that were farther north than Palestine, Uri supposed in his more prosaic earthly fashion.) And in that house there was a second house, an even greater one built of flames of fire, and in it stood a lofty throne with wheels looking like the shining sun and cherubim. On the throne was seated the Great Glory, and His raiment shone more brightly than the sun and was whiter than any snow. None of the angels could enter that house or behold Him. Ten thousand times ten thousand stood waiting for His orders before Him, who could do anything.

Enoch was also standing there, and the Lord railed against the degenerate angels who had lain with women, saying:

As for the spirits of Heaven, in Heaven shall be their dwelling, but as for the spirits of the earth which were born upon the earth, on the earth shall be their dwelling. And the spirits of the giants afflict, oppress, destroy, attack, do battle, and work destruction on the earth until the day of the great judgment in which the age shall be consummated.

And the Lord bade Enoch to say to them, “You have no peace.”

So much for Heaven as far as the scroll was concerned.

Uri contemplated what more might be added but there wasn’t anything. Heaven, it seemed, was not too interesting.

All the more so the earth and the Underworld.

And they brought me to a place in which those who were there were like flaming fire, and, when they wished, they appeared as men.

Uri recollected that sentence precisely; he had translated it at first sight, and only then had he thought about it.

Man as a fire — not bad. Man as a thing — not bad. Things that could assume human form if they wished. That sort of thing could be read about neither in Greek nor Roman poetry. The person who wrote down the Book of Enoch must have known a thing or two about men. Plato would have been delighted to listen, might have even given its philosophy a once-over.

I too am a flaming fire, Uri reflected. What is so different about being human?

I saw the great rivers and came to the great river and to the great darkness, and went to the place where every flesh walks.

What sort of river was that? What kind of place was that, where every flesh walks? Human flesh?

And I saw a deep abyss, with columns of heavenly fire, and among them I saw columns of fire fall, which were beyond measure alike toward the height and toward the depth. And beyond that abyss I saw a place which had no firmament of the heaven above, and no firmly founded earth beneath it. There was no water upon it, and no birds, but it was a waste and horrible place. I saw there seven stars like great burning mountains, and to me, when I inquired regarding them. The angel said, “This place is the end of Heaven and Earth; this has become a prison for the stars and the host of Heaven. And the stars which roll over the fire are they which have transgressed the commandment of the Lord in the beginning of their rising, because they did not come forth at their appointed times. And He was wroth with them, and bound them till the time when their guilt should be consummated — even for ten thousand years.”

Uri liked the idea of the Lord punishing the reluctant stars.

And there was in it four hollow places, deep and wide and very smooth. How smooth are the hollow places and deep and dark to look at. Then Raphael answered, one of the holy angels who was with me, and said unto me, “These hollow places have been created for this very purpose, that the spirits of the souls of the dead should assemble therein, yet that all the souls of the children of men should assemble here. And these places have been made to receive them till the day of their judgment and till the great judgment.” I saw a dead man crying, and his voice went forth to Heaven and he cried. And Raphael said: “This is the spirit which went forth from Abel, whom his brother Cain slew, and he cries against him till his seed is destroyed from the face of the earth…”

He can cry for ages, thought Uri.

Enoch then came to the Garden of Righteousness and he saw from afar many very great, beautiful, glorious, and magnificent trees, and the Tree of Knowledge, whose holy fruit they eat and know great wisdom.