Shira

by Agnon, S. Y.

  Herbst was moved to tears by the modesty of true scholars who work a lifetime to uncover deeply hidden material that becomes general knowledge, so general that those who discovered and revealed it are forgotten. Taking no notice of this, they work on tirelessly, unstintingly, incessantly, with no thought of reward. Herbst went back to the page he had stopped at, bent its corner, and reread the preceding pages. He was astonished. He had read the book and knew what was in it; still, he found things there that he hadn’t noticed earlier. Again Herbst asked himself: How does one arrive at this? How can such great and sublime ideas be expressed in such simple, graceful language? Herbst listed some of the ideas that were basic to Neu’s theory. The actual life and thought of early man, whose existence we were barely aware of, were outlined in the book. Future generations will surely come up with new and more precise facts, but it is clear that they will follow the path laid out in Neu’s books. They will have insights about things Neu never dreamed of, they will challenge some of Neu’s assumptions, but his basic theories will remain intact. Like a mountain, his research will not totter. Neu didn’t rely on anyone else’s work, having arrived at his discoveries on his own. Nevertheless, he gave others credit, beyond what they deserved. Only someone with great scope could have written with such vigor and so lucidly. Not many scholars were able to express their teaching in such terms, concentrating on the essentials without overemphasizing them and playing down the trivial without minimizing whatever quality it had.

  Another notable aspect of Neu’s book: it exemplified the ideal old man who has acquired wisdom without proclaiming himself a paragon and declaring, “See how great I am.” Once again Herbst’s eyes filled with tears, because of Neu, because of his wisdom, because of his discoveries, and because of what others could discover as a result of his discoveries. How did Neu merit this? Through his own talent and the relentless pursuit of essential truth, not to mention the influence of the quarry whence he was hewed. This scholar, descended from merchants and bankers, knows how to calculate the past, like a trustworthy treasurer who can account for every cent he takes in and pays out. He has no patience with faulty estimates, invalid hunches, hollow verbiage, or certainties that shift in response to convenience. The entire book is considered, accurate, balanced. Like a large coin that can be exchanged for several smaller ones, his conclusions can be expressed in lower terms, and, like small coins with which small things are acquired, Neu’s remarks help scholars to acquire basic knowledge. The nations of the world characterize Jews as merchants whose entire existence depends on coins. What Israel’s enemies consider corrupt, we regard as virtue. Since Jews deal in currency, they become experts, buying and selling with the finest coinage. I will depart from the role of narrator and inject a word of my own. How is it that all of Professor Neu’s research is accurate and true? It’s because he is descended from proper God-fearing Jews, as meticulous in minor observances as in more stringent ones, knowing their Creator tolerates no deceit. Having learned to be meticulous with His commandments, they learned to be meticulous, whatever they do. Professor Neu follows his ancestors’ ways, and their merit sustains him.

  As thoughts sometimes do, Herbst’s thoughts wandered, touching on Neu’s visit to this country. The days were especially beautiful, typical of the weeks between Purim and Passover in the Land of Israel. The earth put forth grass. All the mountains, hills, valleys, and hollows were filled with soft vegetation and the scents of green freshness. Even the aged rocks had buds in their crevices. The sky arched high and blue over everything, with good smells emanating from the earth and the heavens, from above and below. Look down, and a fine smell wafts upward; look up, and a fine scent drifts down from the sky. Between the earth and the sky, new birds dart from tree to tree, from branch to branch, testing their voices in a new song. Not to mention the dove from the Song of Songs by King Solomon, peace be with him, as in the verse: “The voice of the turtle dove was heard in our land.”

  Like the two-legged creatures above, a host of four-legged creatures – land animals, intimate with the earth – respond with mounting exhilaration. Their voices are renewed when they see the bountiful nourishment provided by the One who provides for all His creatures. They are no longer dependent on their human masters. As they roam about, sniffing the ground, the food seems to reach their mouth with hardly any effort, for the land is generous to all creatures and favors them in every way. This is really how it is. Even thorns and thistles, created because of a snake, are adorned with buds and flowers, and are soft and pleasant in the days between Purim and Passover. This is not surprising, for Israel was redeemed in the month of Nisan, and, every year at that time, it’s as if Israel’s redemption were being considered again and again, and as if, knowing this, all creatures were on their best behavior, so that, should Israel be deemed worthy, they too would be redeemed. Already goats and sheep – ewes and kids – dot the landscape with their wool. Though we resent them for destroying gardens and flowers we have labored over, we cherish them in this season and enjoy watching them frolic. Even more so the cows, who are led out of the barns to graze. The meadow gives off the smell of milk, and a small boy leads the cows. If I’m not mistaken, he is the son of a Hasid from Galicia who abandoned his father and mother, his rebbe, and his entire community to go to the Land of Israel, acquired a small plot of land in one of Jerusalem’s neighborhoods, and bought one cow, then another and still another, all of whom give milk. At first, when there was peace in the land, Henrietta Herbst used to get milk from those cows, praising its quality and exclaiming over its cream content. Now that the roads are dangerous and Jews no longer show themselves in Arab neighborhoods, Henrietta gets her milk from some other source and no longer exclaims over the cream. At first, when that Hasid abandoned his rich family, his rebbe, and the entire community, his parents were in mourning, the rabbi spoke of him harshly, and everyone mocked him. Now that Hitler is in power, claiming their wealth and then their lives, they all want to come to the Land of Israel. What deters them? The law deters them. Not only in the lands of exile is that law wielded against them, but in the Land of Israel as well. That land, created for Israel’s sake, is governed by strangers who will not allow Jews in.

  Back to Neu when he was in the Land of Israel.

  The city is full of tourists. They come from every country.

  They walk from place to place, astonished by Jerusalem’s splendor, the good Lord having filled it, from earth to high heaven, with astounding beauty. Despite the ugly houses, Jerusalem is lovely. At regular intervals the Lord cuts a hole in the sky, as it were, extracts some clouds – blue, purple, and all the other fine colors mentioned in the Bible – and decorates His city with them. Just as heaven and earth, cattle, animals, birds, trees, and rocks are a delight, so are human beings, especially our people Israel, when they see the Lord’s works and wonders – how He arranges time, shifts seasons, dispels chill, and provides warmth. Just as He dispelled the chill of winter, its winds and storms, bringing light and joy in their place, so will He soon dispel our exile and bring on true redemption.

  I have been somewhat distracted by love of Jerusalem and the prospect of redemption. Now I’ll get back to Neu when he was a guest in this country. What a sight that old man was, at his age, skipping up mountains and leaping over hills to see the sun rise or the moon set. He made a point of going to different synagogues for morning and evening prayers, to get to know the customs of every community; wherever he prayed, it was clear that their God and his were one. I don’t know Neu’s views about race. In any case, seeing this wise man from the west among brothers from the east, north, and south, one would have to acknowledge that all of Israel is descended from a single father. Once, Herbst accompanied Neu to the Western Wall. On the way, Herbst told Neu that the stones meant nothing to him. When they reached the wall and he watched Neu studying those stones, Herbst’s eyes filled with tears. To this day, when he remembers that scene, he comes close to tears. Herbst, as you know, is not observant and rema
ins remote from most things that arouse the hearts of the devout. But Herbst admires his teacher, and, whatever Neu does, he accepts. Often, when he watched him pray, he felt like joining in; had he known the prayers, he would have prayed too.

  Neu’s visit was wonderful. Herbst was with Neu all the time, in Jerusalem and everywhere else. Finally, when it was time for Neu to leave, he came to Herbst’s house to say goodbye and didn’t find him in. Herbst missed the opportunity to welcome his teacher to his home before his departure. When he came, he came with his young relative, Lisbet Neu. Lisbet had accompanied him to help him find the place. Neu may have brought her along with some other intention. Perhaps he hoped to give her entry to his pupil’s home, in order to expand her horizons beyond those of the new immigrants, Orthodox Jews from Germany, whose world is circumscribed, who don’t see past their own four cubits. Some days later, Herbst called on Ernst Weltfremdt, who had just become a professor, and found two ladies there, one young, one old. One of them was Lisbet Neu; the other was her mother. Now he himself is in line for a promotion, and unless there is significant opposition, he may well be appointed professor, as he had been appointed lecturer when the university trustees asked Neu to recommend faculty and Neu directed them to Herbst. Just now, Herbst was concerned with Neu’s book rather than the professorship. It occurred to him that Neu might have sent the book to his relatives, who would rejoice over it – not because of its quality, which he doubted they would recognize, but because it was a gift from an uncle. How delighted they would be to have the book analyzed for them. Herbst had not as yet translated this thought into action, and he hadn’t as yet designated himself for the job. But he thought: How happy those two ladies would be if someone were to come and say, “I’ll explain the book to you, if you like.”

  It was Shabbat, a day when no business is transacted in the Land of Israel. Since the university and the National Library were both closed, Herbst spent Shabbat writing letters or scholarly articles. But he didn’t get deeply involved in the articles, as he was determined to complete his book on burial customs of the poor in Byzantium, a project he had been working on for a long time and was eager to be done with, not only for the book itself but because it was such a bother to him. Now, since his review was published and his name was being mentioned again, all of the country’s journals seemed to be after him for articles. As you know, Herbst’s energies were depleted. Reading his teacher’s book revived him, so much so that he was confident that, if only he would pick up a pen, the letters would fly onto the paper.

  Herbst took a cigarette, stuck it in his mouth, lit it, stood up, and leaned on the arm of the chair, looking out the window as he blew a wreath of smoke rings. He suddenly heard a bird and became upset, remembering that he had been in the garden with his baby daughter the day before; they had heard a chirping sound, and the little girl had looked up and said, “There’s no bird in the sky.” Too bad; too bad he didn’t tell Henrietta. Henrietta is so pleased when she hears something clever from Sarah, especially when he reports it to her. He put the cigarette in the ashtray and took another. He meant to pick up a pen, but, since the cigarette had found its way into his hand, he stuck it in his mouth, lit it, sat down, and fixed his mind on writing. He produced an article that later became known by its full title: “To What Extent Did the Emperor Justinian Believe in Those Ministers Who Maintained that He Would Rise to Heaven Like Elijah in His Time?”

  Herbst found some relevant notes, clipped them together, took one of the thousands of bulletins showered on us by national institutions, and wrote an outline on the blank part of the paper, beginning with quotations from Justinian’s ministers – evidence that often, when they sat together dealing with affairs of state, these ministers were worried that he would suddenly be swept up to heaven in a storm. Since the facts are known, I won’t repeat them, but I should note that Herbst tried to establish whether Justinian actually believed in his own holiness and considered himself in a class with Elijah, or whether he was persuaded to believe in his power by ministers who repeatedly said, “When we were in his presence, we were afraid he would be swept up to heaven in a storm.”

  So much for Justinian’s holiness and Herbst’s calculations. It is time to get back to Herbst and to my subject, which is Neu’s book. Herbst’s idea – to explain Neu’s book to those two ladies, Neu’s relatives, contrived to assign him the role of messenger. Since it is my way to relate outcomes at the beginning, let me say that Herbst didn’t get to do it. Why do I tell you this? So no heart will grieve over a good deed that should have been accomplished but never was.

  Chapter eleven

  After lunch, when Henrietta lay down for a rest, Manfred put on his good clothes, tucked Neu’s little book in his pocket, and went to call on Lisbet Neu. Herbst had never been at Lisbet Neu’s, nor had he ever wished to go there. Now that he had her uncle’s book, his mind was set on going to her.

  Like someone who is about to do something he is not in the habit of doing, he pictured some of what he would see at Lisbet’s. Her mother would be sitting in Shabbat clothes, a Shabbat kerchief on her head, her hands on her heart, in the manner of Orthodox women when they are at rest. On the table nearby, he would find a prayerbook, the five books of Moses with Hirsch’s commentary, and her uncle’s book. She has already read the weekly portion, as well as the commentary, and translated its lofty language into simple terms. Some of her interpretations were the ones she learned as a child; others were her own; still others, imparted by teachers, were outdated and had to be revised. Having done what she was trained to do on Shabbat, what more does her heart desire? It is now her desire to know the contents of her uncle’s book. She realizes she won’t ever know its contents, for she wasn’t allowed to study academic subjects, although she did study some difficult material that not everyone would grasp, such as Hirsch’s commentary and ritual law. On many occasions here in Jerusalem, Herbst had spent time with young women – high school students and university students alike – who couldn’t deal with that material, not even with its vocabulary. As she sits there, lost in thought, she hears footsteps, followed by a knock on the door. She says, “Come in.” He comes in and sees Neu’s book on the table. He opens it and begins reading; explicating, interpreting, and analyzing the text; pointing out original insights and discoveries. For Neu has brought many things to light, some of which were totally unknown until he revealed them and others that were illuminated by his insight. The old woman is astonished. She knew her uncle was a great scholar with an international reputation, but this knowledge was not grounded in understanding, and knowledge without understanding is not gratifying. Now that this gentleman, Herbst the teacher, has come and said what he said, her heart expands and her eyes light up, not out of pride and conceit, but in praise and gratitude to the Lord, may He be blessed, for bestowing wisdom on her uncle. Herbst sits with her, reviewing the history of this widow, once rich and aristocratic, which he learned from her daughter Lisbet. Her hand used to be extended to the poor, and countless emissaries from Jerusalem would come to her home and enjoy her hospitality, as well as her gifts and charity. Then, suddenly, the world was shaken by a curse; the entire country and its inhabitants became adversaries, so that she and her daughters, like countless other Jews, had to leave their home, their land, their silver and gold – all the property acquired by her family in the course of four or five generations. She wandered through many lands and finally came up to Jerusalem. Lisbet never mentioned whether the emissaries from Jerusalem – those who used to sit at their table and enjoy their bounty – have chosen not to recognize them, or whether it is they themselves who keep their distance, preferring not to put anyone to the test and risk being humiliated. They struggle to live on the meager resources they managed to take with them, supplemented by Lisbet’s salary. Suddenly, someone comes to her; he comes of his own accord and reads to her from this book, written by her uncle, a Jewish scholar with an international reputation, even now when Israel’s enemies, dominated by this
curse, are denouncing Jews everywhere.

  These were some of Manfred Herbst’s thoughts, reveries, fantasies when his will contrived to make him the messenger who would explain her uncle’s book to Lisbet Neu’s mother. Herbst had seen Lisbet when he went to congratulate Weltfremdt on his promotion, but since that day he had never thought of her, and it had never occurred to him to visit her. Suddenly, he found that his mind was completely occupied with her. He thought: I’ll go to her, sit awhile, and read a bit. Then I’ll tell Henrietta where I was and what I did, and, even if I say outright that I called on that widow because of Neu, her uncle, Henrietta won’t be surprised. Herbst was not always in the habit of saying “I’ll tell Henrietta”; now he enjoyed saying it: “I’ll tell Henrietta.”

  Herbst went out, closed the door behind him, and checked the fence, the bushes, the vegetables, and the flowers, which were drooping because of the heat. He felt sorry for them and resolved to come back and water them before dark. He meant to go back in and tell Henrietta he would water the garden later. Meanwhile, he forgot what was in his mind and didn’t go back. It’s just as well he forgot. Had he gone in, he would have wakened her, and she needed her sleep, because she had been up all night with the baby, who had a stomachache from eating bad grapes and had cried all night. He turned back to the garden and glanced at the flowers, deciding which to take to Lisbet’s mother. He was distracted and didn’t take any. It’s just as well he forgot. Had he brought Lisbet’s mother flowers, she would not have accepted them, because he had picked them on Shabbat. He felt his pocket to be sure he had the book. He opened it and marked the passages he would read to Lisbet Neu and her mother. One could not assume the ladies would understand, but, if he explained, they would surely understand. Again, he pictured Lisbet Neu’s mother, sitting in her chair, hands folded over her heart, gazing at Lisbet, and saying to her, wordlessly: Listen, my child; listen, Lisbet. The scene conveyed a message: all the world’s goodness has not been totally consumed, and even in these troubled times there are ways to help others as well as yourself. Imagine yourself sitting with two respectable ladies, reading to them, and diverting your mind from that woman who was created to torment you.